Volume 50 Number 1– 2 Spring– Summer 2017 JA S ournal of ustrian tudies Editors Hillary Hope Herzog, University of Kentucky Todd Herzog, University of Cincinnati Book Review Editor Joseph W. Moser, West Chester University Published by he University of Nebraska Press Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Subscriptions Journal of Austrian Studies (ISSN 2165-669X) is published quarterly by the University of Nebraska Press. For current subscription rates please see our website: www .nebraskapress.unl.edu. If ordering by mail, please make checks payable to the University of Nebraska Press and send to he University of Nebraska Press 1111 Lincoln Mall Lincoln NE 68588-0630 Telephone: 402-472-8536 Submissions Send submissions to the editor at journalofaustrianstudies@gmail.com. Original manuscripts in English or German not submited or published elsewhere are welcome. Send manuscripts as a Microsot Word .doc ile or as a Rich Text File (.rtf). Manuscripts should not exceed 30 double-spaced pages including notes and must conform to the current MLA style and the Modern Austrian Literature stylesheet. For more on submissions visit www.journal-of-austrian-studies.org. Book and ilm reviews are assigned; unsolicited reviews are not accepted. Potential reviewers should write to the book review editor at josephwmoser@gmail.com. All inquiries on subscription, change of address, advertising, and other business communications should be sent to the University of Nebraska Press. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America If you would like to reprint material from Journal of Austrian Studies, please query for permission using our online form, located under the Journals menu heading on our website: www.nebraskapress.unl.edu. Journal of Austrian Studies is available online through Project Muse at htp://muse .jhu.edu. Articles appearing in this journal are abstracted and indexed in Academic Search Complete, Academic Search Elite, Academic Search Premier, Humanities International Complete, Humanities International Index, Humanities Source, Literary Reference Center, Literary Reference Center Plus, Literary Reference Center Main, Emerging Sources Citation Index, IBZ, and IBR. Cover design by Shirley hornton. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Editorial Board Katherine Arens, University of Texas–Austin homas Ballhausen, Film Archiv Austria Steven Beller, Independent Scholar–Washington D.C. Dieter Binder, Universität Graz Diana Cordileone, Point Loma Nazarene University Robert Dassanowsky, University of Colorado–Colorado Springs Daniel Gilillan, Arizona State University Christina Guenther, Bowling Green State University Susanne Hochreiter, Univesität Wien Vincent Kling, LaSalle University Martin Liebscher, University College London Dagmar Lorenz, University of Illinois–Chicago David Lut, Oregon State University Imke Meyer, University of Illinois–Chicago Oliver Speck, Virginia Commonwealth University Heidi Schlipphacke, University of Illinois–Chicago Janet Stewart, University of Aberdeen Gregor huswaldner, North Park University Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Executive Council of the Austrian Studies Association President Craig Decker, Bates College Vice President Gregor huswaldner, North Park University Past President Imke Meyer, University of Illinois–Chicago Members-at-Large Michael Burri, University of Pennsylvania Alyson Fiddler, Lancaster University Jennifer Good, Baylor University Anita McChesney, Texas Tech University Brigite Pruti, University of Washington–Seatle Oliver C. Speck, Virginia Commonwealth University Ex- Officio Member Christian J. Ebner, Austrian Cultural Forum New York Editors Hillary Hope Herzog, University of Kentucky Todd Herzog, University of Cincinnati Book Review Editor Joseph W. Moser, West Chester University Business Manager Katherine Arens, University of Texas–Austin Fundraising and Public Relations Robert Dassanowsky, University of Colorado–Colorado Springs Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Honorary Members of the Austrian Studies Association Established in 2013, Honorary Membership in the ASA is given to leading creative igures in Austrian culture and the arts in gratitude for their enduring and inluential work. Nominations are ongoing. Honorary Members Ruth Beckermann VALIE EXPORT Lilian Faschinger Paul Harather Josef Haslinger Peter Henisch Elfriede Jelinek Barbara Neuwirth Hans Raimund Peter Rosei Goetz Spielmann Peter Tscherkassky Honorary Museum Director Members Mati Bunzl, Wien Museum, Vienna Agnes Husslein-Arco, Leopold Museum, Vienna (formerly Belvedere Museum) Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Edited by Andreea Deciu Ritivoi and David R. Shumway Featuring cutting-edge research on storytelling practices across a variety of PHGLDLQFOXGLQJIDFHWRIDFHLQWHUDFWLRQOLWHUDU\ZULWLQJ¿OPDQGWHOHYLVLRQ virtual environments, historiography, journalism, and graphic narratives, Storyworlds foregrounds research questions that cut across established disciplines--and hence promotes new, integrative frameworks for inquiry. Storyworlds is available online through Project MUSE and JSTOR Current Scholarship. Both offer free access via library subscriptions and pay-per-view options for those without library connections. Read it at http://bit.ly/STW_MUSE or http://bit.ly/STW_JSTOR For subscriptions or back issues, visit nebraskapress.unl.edu or call 402-472-8536 Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Contents xiii From the Editors Articles 1 “Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr. Sie ist mir abhandengekommen.” Zur Krankheit des Vergessens und ihrer Darstellung in der deutschen und österreichischen Literatur Gerd K. Schneider he percentage of the elderly in Germany and Austria is increasing; people are having fewer children and some immigrants return home again. It has been estimated that by 2030 the population of people 65 and older in both countries will be about 17 percent. As seniors live longer‚ the number of age-related illnesses increases‚ esp. Alzheimer’s disease. his places an enormous burden on the health care systems and on the family members who are acting as care givers. he literatures of Germany and Austria have taken up this topic, producing works that describe the various stages of this illness and ofer hints for taking care of these seniors. 33 he Anschluss as Film Noir: Reading Leo Perutz’s Novel Fragment Mainacht in Wien as Cinematic Text Robert Dassanowsky Leo Perutz’s Mainacht in Wien is a novel fragment of three chapters writen in 1938; it was abandoned when the author and his family managed to secure exile in Palestine. he uninished novel is perhaps the most intriguing atempt at ictionalizing the immediate atmosphere of Nazi Vienna. Despite the time of its origin, Mainacht in Wien avoids direct political commentary and instead conveys a disaster in its strikingly visual literary style that approximates cinematic language. Tracing Perutz’s atempted transformation from author of historical novels into writer of ilm scenarios allows for a glimpse into the politics and logistics of ilm production on the eve of Europe’s Nazi cataclysm. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 55 Blick as the Border of Authenticity in Christoph Ransmayr’s Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes William M. Mahan his article investigates a problematics of authenticity as the source of Angst in Christoph Ransmayr’s 2012 travelogue Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes, allocating existing discourse concerning borders within the text as a springboard from which to dive into the divide created between the tourist’s gaze and its object. It considers Ransmayr’s larger (postmodernist) engagement with (Holocaust) memory relected in narration and his relationship to the conventional, globalized, digitally and medially engaged tourist. Ransmayr’s tenuous relationship toward visually oriented technologies relects a larger ambivalence concerning ocular means of recording experience as well as the eye as a metaphor for retrospective apprehension of history and memory. Ransmayr’s refusal to engage more extensively with such technologies, despite signaling their presence, can be seen as his refusal to engage with conventional literary genre forms as well as forms of cataloguing and mapping. Atlas reveals Ransmayr’s apprehension toward touristiication and, through the tourist-as-metaphor, the decline of humanity. 89 he Demonic Comedy of homas Bernhard Mikkel Frantzen Relating the works of Austrian author homas Bernhard to Søren Kierkegaard’s concept of despair as presented in he Sickness Unto Death, this article claims that Bernhard’s body of work is to be understood as a demonic comedy. For Kierkegaard, demonic despair emerges when a person in despair clings to his or her own despair. he despairer loves to stay close to things he hates and would rather be right than be redeemed. his is the paradoxical and comical logic of demonic despair and also the essence of the literature of homas Bernhard. he article atempts to discuss the issue of comedy as it relates to demonic despair, in the Kierkegaardian sense just indicated—the central argument being that the structure of that form of despair is precisely a comic structure. In this way I hope to correct the prevalent conception, also among Bernhard scholars, of Bernhard as merely a misanthropic singer of darkness and death. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Tribute to Egon Schwarz Egon Schwarz, the great literary scholar who was forced to lee his native Austria ater the assumption of power by the National Socialists, died in 2017, leaving behind a legacy of essential scholarship and devoted and successful students. he Journal of Austrian Studies pays tribute to Dr. Schwarz with a memorium by Helga Schreckenberger and an interview with him conducted shortly before his death. 109 In Memoriam: Egon Schwarz (August 8, 1922–February 11, 2017) Helga Schreckenberger 113 “Für mich war Literatur alles Mögliche, auch Eskapismus.” Interview mit Egon Schwarz Michael Omasta and Ursula Seeber Reviews 123 Wolfgang Matz, Adalbert Stiter oder Diese fürchterliche Wendung der Dinge: Biographie. Götingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2016. 391 pp. Pamela S. Saur 125 Pamela S. Saur, he Spiritual Meaning of Material hings in the Novels of Adalbert Stiter (1805–1868): A Study in Poetic Realism. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2015. 212 pp. Matthew J. Sherman 127 John Deak, Forging a Multinational State: State Making in Imperial Austria rom the Enlightenment to the First World War. Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 2015. 355 pp. Peter Höyng 129 Elie Poulain, Einführung in die Literaturpragmatik mit einer Beispielanalyse von Kakas Roman Der Prozess. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2015. 110 pp. Pamela S. Saur 132 Joachim Kersten and Friedrich Pfälin, Detlev von Liliencron endeckt, gefeiert und gelesen von Karl Kraus. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 464 pp. Vincent Kling Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 134 Stijn de Cauwer, A Diagnosis of Modern Life: Robert Musil’s “Der Mann ohne Eigenschaten” as a CriticalUtopian Project. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2014. 278 pp. Malcolm Spencer 137 Agata Zoia Mirecka, Max Brods Frauenbilder im Kontext der Feminitätsdiskurse einiger anderer Prager deutscher Schritsteller. Warschauer Studien zur Germanistik und zur Angewandten Linguistik. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang, 2014. 148 pp. Traci S. O’Brien 139 Primus-Heinz Kucher, ed., Verdrängte Moderne— vergessene Avantgarde: Diskurskonstellationen zwischen Literatur, heater, Kunst und Musik in Ősterreich 1918– 1938. Götingen: V & R unipress, 2016. 296 pp. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz 142 Hannah Markus, Ilse Aichingers Lyrik: Das gedruckte Werk und die Handschriten. Edited by Beate Kellner and Claudia Stockinger. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015. 336 pp. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz 144 Barbara Siller, Identitäten—Imaginationen—Erzählungen: Literaturraum Südtirol seit 1965. Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Kulturwissenschat—Germanistische Reihe 82. Innsbruck: Innsbruck UP, 2015. 268 S. Maria-Regina Kecht 147 Esther K. Bauer, Bodily Desire, Desired Bodies: Gender and Desire in Early Twentieth-Century German and Austrian Novels and Paintings. Evanston, IL: Northwestern UP, 2014. 161 pp. Beret L. Norman 149 Mark Cornwall and John Paul Newman, Sacriice and Rebirth: he Legacy of the Last Habsburg War. Austrian and Habsburg Studies 18. New York: Berghahn, 2016. 295 pp. John E. Fahey Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 152 Martin Pollack, Topograie der Erinnerung. Salzburg: Residenz Verlag, 2016. 172 pp. Joseph W. Moser 154 Friedrich Stadler, ed., 650 Jahre Universität Wien—Aubruch ins neue Jahrhundert. 4 vols. Vienna: V&R unipress, 2015. 2131 pp. Janek Wasserman 156 Rainer Maria Rilke, New Poems. Translation by Len Krisak. Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2015. 392 pp. Della J. Dumbaugh 160 Wolfgang Göderle, Zensus und Ethnizität: Zur Herstellung von Wissen über soziale Wirklichkeiten im Habsburgerreich zwischen 1848 und 1910. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 331 pp. John Deak 162 Klara Gross-Elixmann, Poetologie und Epistemologie: Schreibstragien und Autorschatskonzepte in Arthur Schnitzlers medizinischen Texten. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2016. 350 pp. Monica Strauss 165 Sabine Straub, Zusammengehaltener Zerfall: Hugo von Hofmannsthals Poetik der Multiplen Persönlichkeit. Würzburger Beiträge zur deutschen Philologie XLIV. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2015. 424 + XLIV pp. Vincent Kling 167 Eva Demmerle, Kaiser Karl, Mythos und Wirklichkeit. Vienna: Amalthea Verlag, 2016. 228 pp. Laura A. Detre 169 Michael Kessler und Paul Michael Lützeler, Hrsg., Hermann-Broch-Handbuch. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. 670 S. Martin Klebes 172 Sarah McGaughey, Ornament as Crisis: Architecture, Design, and Modernity in Hermann Broch’s he Sleepwalkers. Evanston, IL: Northwestern UP, 2016. 219 pp. Richard M. Lambert III Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 175 Jacques Lajarrige, ed., Soma Morgenstern—Von Galizien ins amerikanische Exil | Soma Morgenstern—De la Galicie à l’éxil américain. Forum: Österreich 1. Berlin: Frank & Timme, 2015. 498 pp. Kaleigh Bangor 177 Peter Sarkany, Meaning-Centered Existential Analysis: Philosophy as Psychotherapy in the Work of Viktor E. Frankl. Translated by Emese Czintos. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2016. 121 pp. Margarete Landwehr 180 Wolf A. Greinert, Hans Weigel: “Ich war einmal . . .” Eine Biographie. Vienna: Styria, 2015. 415 pp. Joseph McVeigh 182 Joseph McVeigh, Ingeborg Bachmanns Wien. Berlin: Insel Verlag, 2016. 316 pp. Katya Krylova 185 Martina Wörgöter, Poetik und Linguistik: Die literarische Sprache Marie-hérèse Kerschbaumer. Freiburg: Rombach, 2016. 445 pp. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz 188 Johannes Feichtinger and Heidemarie Uhl, eds., Habsburg Neu Denken: Vielfalt und Ambivalenz in Zentraleuropa—30 Kulturwissenschatliche Stichworte. Vienna: Böhlau, 2016. 261 pp. Tim Corbett 190 Matej Santi, Zwischen drei Kulturen: Musik und Nationalitätsbildung in Triest. Studien zur Kultur, Geschichte und heorie der Musik. Veröfentlichungen des Instituts für Analyse, heorie und Geschichte der Musik an der Universität für Musik und darstellende Kunst Wien 9. Vienna: Hollitzer, 2015. 230 pp. Steven R. Cerf 193 Christine Lavant, Aufzeichnungen aus dem Irrenhaus. A new edition with an Aterword by Klaus Amann. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 140 pp. Francis Michael Sharp 195 Hermine Witgenstein, Familienerinnerung. Edited by Ilse Somavilla. Innsbruck: Haymon, 2015. 552 pp. Vincent Kling Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association From the Editors Happy 50th Anniversary! When we assumed editorship of the lagship journal of the Austrian Studies Association ive years ago, the association voted to give the publication a new name: Journal of Austrian Studies. his new name was chosen to relect a broader scope for both the journal and the ASA. It would still deal with Austrian literature in the modern period, but also with material that extended beyond literature and beyond any given historical period. he journal had a new name, a new publisher, new editors, and a new look. But the ASA also consciously chose not to begin this “new” journal with volume 1, issue 1. Instead, we continued the numbering that had begun in 1968, when the irst issue of Modern Austrian Literature appeared.1 Modern Austrian Literature had, in fact, long dealt with a wide variety of texts and methodologies that extended beyond the implicit boundaries set by its title. We wanted to signal that the JAS was simply the obvious next step in a trajectory that dates back to the journal’s origins in the 1960s. With this issue, we begin volume 50 of this publication. Over the halfcentury that has elapsed between volume 1 and volume 50, this journal has published 148 issues under eight diferent editors. On the occasion of this golden anniversary, we thought that it would be interesting and instructive to look back over the history of the journal and see how it has developed over its irst ity years. As one might expect, the journal’s evolution over the years has relected the evolution of scholarship in the ield. Every single issue of the 1960s contained at least one article focusing on the literary works of Arthur Schnitzler. his concentration on one of the most highly regarded and celebrated modern Austrian authors not only relected MAL’s origins in the Journal of the Arthur Schnitzler Research Association but also expressed the implicit notion that the subject of the journal was to focus on established literary masters. As the longtime editor of MAL, Donald Daviau, later recalled, in its early years Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association xiv | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 MAL “placed greater emphasis on the age in which Schnitzler lived, while still keeping the man as the center of focus” (Daviau 1986, iv). he 1970s saw further expansion in the notion of what constituted a suitable topic for inclusion in the journal. MAL closed out the decade with a special issue on “Austrian Women Writers,” amid controversy as to “whether it was justiiable and appropriate to devote an issue” to the topic (Daviau 1979, np). Daviau argued that indeed it was, going so far as to apologize in his preface that several important Austrian women writers had to be omited from the discussion “simply because it was impossible to locate critics who are currently working on them” and to express the hope that “[i]f the issue truly fulills the purpose for which it was intended, it will ultimately serve as an impetus and stimulus for further research” (Daviau 1979, np). It appears to have worked, because every one of the eleven authors cited by Daviau as conspicuously absent has since been the subject of articles and reviews in the journal. Indeed, one of these eleven (Elfriede Jelinek) ranks among the most prevalent subjects of scholarly discussion in the journal over the past two decades. Twenty years ater the special issue on Austrian women writers, MAL 32:4 (Daviau’s last as editor) featured a special issue devoted to the topic of “Austria in Film” in recognition of the fact that visual culture had “now become a popular area of study” and that “movies, whether good or bad, usually reach and inluence a much larger audience than is the case for books” (Daviau, 1999, i). Looking back on the years that have passed since then, it is dificult to imagine an issue of the journal in the twenty-irst century that does not deal with ilm and visual culture in some way. As Modern Austrian Literature entered the new century, the new editorial team, Geofrey Howes and Jacqueline Vansant, announced that they would explicitly welcome “articles not only on the growing canon of literary texts, but also on ilm, popular culture, and texts that challenge deinitions of high and low culture, genres, and methodologies” (Howes and Vansant, iii). he following year, the journal’s subtitle was changed to relect the new name of the organization that it represented: It would henceforth be known as “he Journal of the Modern Austrian Literature and Culture Association.” Subsequent editors continued to expand the journal’s size and scope, just as previous editors had. Over the past ive years we have worked to continue this longstanding tradition of opening the journal to new areas of scholarship and to feature new scholars with innovative methodologies. We are especially proud of the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association From the Editors | xv newly emerging scholars whose work has appeared in these pages and who have carried the journal forward to new areas of exploration and new methods of exploring those areas. In the coming years, we hope to see the journal continue to atract and feature new scholars and new areas of scholarship. In particular, we hope to see the journal open up to an increasingly broad deinition of “Austria” that moves beyond the borders of the current republic and takes in the many nationalities, languages, and cultures of the former Habsburg empire. Now, as we celebrate our golden anniversary year, we want to remember and thank all of those who have devoted themselves to the fostering of this journal over the past half-century. It has been a good run. We look forward to seeing what the journal looks like when it celebrates its seventy-ith anniversary twenty-ive years from now. It may have a new title, it will almost certainly be published in (and publish articles on) new and diferent media, and it will (we hope!) have new editors. But whatever it is called, whatever form it takes, and whoever is at the helm, we are conident that at its heart it will be the ever-youthful, ever-adaptable, ever more expansive venue for the best and most innovative scholarship in Austrian Studies that it has been throughout its irst half century. Hillary & Todd Note 1. Modern Austrian Literature already had a predecessor in the form of the Journal of the International Arthur Schnitzler Research Association. Although MAL did begin with volume 1, the editor who oversaw the transition, Vincent LoCicero, wrote that “[i]n a sense, Modern Austrian Literature represents a heart-transplant operation. he body of this publication is new, but its spirit and essence remains that of the Journal of the International Arthur Schnitzler Research Association” (LoCicero). We agree with LoCiero, which means that we missed the journal’s actual 50th anniversary a few years ago. Works Cited Daviau, Donald G. “Preface.” Modern Austrian Literature 12:3–4 (1979). Print. — “Editor’s Note.” Modern Austrian Literature 19:3–4 (1986), iii–vii. Print. — “Preface.” Modern Austrian Literature 32:4 (1999), i–v. Print. Howes, Geofrey and Jacqueline Vansant, “From the Editors.” Modern Austrian Literature 33:1 (March 2000), i–iii. Print. LoCicero, Vincent. “Editor’s Note.” Modern Austrian Literature 1:1 (Spring 1968), 55. htp:// www.malca.org/hist/ed68.html. Web. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association “Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr. Sie ist mir abhandengekommen.” Zur Krankheit des Vergessens und ihrer Darstellung in der deutschen und österreichischen Literatur Gerd K. Schneider Die Bevölkerung der Bundesrepublik Deutschland schrumpt‚ die Geburtenrate fällt‚ die Langlebigkeit steigt an und damit auch das Demenzrisiko der Seniorinnen und Senioren. Die Republik Österreich ist ebenfalls davon betrofen‚ denn “[i]m Jahr 2050 werden mehr als drei Millionen Österreicher älter als 60 Jahre alt sein‚ davon dürte fast jeder Zehnte von Demenz betrofen sein” (ORF). Die Belletristik in Deutschland und in Österreich hat das hema der Demenzkranken aufgegrifen und aus unterschiedlichen Perspektiven betrachtet. Zunächst einige demograische Daten. Langfristige demograische Berechnungen beinden sich immer im Bereich des Möglichen. Ausschlaggebend sind vier Faktoren: Fertilität‚ Mortalität‚ Migration und politische Maßnahmen‚ die ein Bevölkerungswachstum fördern. Trotz der Unbestimmbarkeit dieser Elemente gibt es viele Untersuchungen‚ die der Überalterung in Europa‚ besonders in Deutschland und auch in Österreich‚ gewidmet sind. Uns interessieren hier hauptsächlich zwei Ursachen: Die Langlebigkeit der Seniorinnen und Senioren und die sinkende Fertilitätsrate (2015:1‚4). Die sinkende Kinderzahl hat verschiedene Gründe: Den Pillenknick der 1970er Jahre; Ehepaare wollen ihren freien Lebensstil beibehalten; Veränderung der Geschlechterrollen; die schwierige Verbindung von Beruf und Elternschat; die Mehrfachbelastung durch Haushalt‚ Job und Plege; die fehlende gesellschatliche Anerkennung von berufstätigen Mütern; die hohen Kosten für Kindererziehung; die geringe Anzahl von Betreuungsplätzen; und JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 2 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 die unsichere Zukunt für die eigenen Kinder. Die geringe Kinderzahl ist‚ mit Ausnahme von Frankreich (Fruchtbarkeitsrate pro Frau 2‚02)‚ das eine familienfreundliche Politik betreibt‚ auch ein europäisches Problem: “2008 betrug der Anteil unter 20-Jährigen in den 27 EU-Mitgliedstaaten 21‚7 Prozent‚ während die Altersgruppe 60 Jahre und älter auf 22‚4 Prozent kam.”1 Das hat dazu geführt‚ “dass in Europa mitlerweise mehr ältere Menschen als Teenager leben”(ibid). Die Bundesrepublik Deutschland weist den größten Geburtenrückgang in der Europäischen Union auf. Dies hat gesellschatliche und wirtschatliche Konsequenzen‚ und besonders die Sozialsysteme könnten kollabieren. Eine kleinere Anzahl von Erwerbstätigen muss eine größere Anzahl von Senioren betreuen‚ so dass der Generationenvertrag möglicherweise gefährdet sein könnte. Die Studie Arbeitsmarkt 2030 stellt fest: Die vom Statistischen Bundesamtvorausgeschätzte Bevölkerungsentwicklung weist für einzelne Bundesländer auf geradezu dramatische Verläufe und zwar sowohl im Hinblick auf die Bevölkerungszahl als auch auf ihre Altersstruktur.2 Die Altersstruktur verschlechtere sich in allen Bundesländern: “2030 wird die Relation der Älteren zu den Jüngeren im Bundesdurchschnit bei 1‚45 liegen‚ während sie 2010 bei 1‚03 lag” (KV-L 8). Der Zuwachs von Zuwanderungen ist nicht ausreichend‚ den Fachkräftebedarf zu sichern. Ein zusätzliches Problem ist‚ dass viele Zuwanderer die Bundesrepublik wieder verlassen: Deutschland lockt immer mehr Zuwanderer an. Im ersten Halbjahr 2014 zogen fast 670.000 Menschen in die Bundesrepublik‚ 20 Prozent mehr als im Vorjahreszeitraum‚ wie das Statistische Bundesamt vermeldet. Allerdings bleiben die wenigsten für immer. Auch die Zahl der Fortzüge aus Deutschland steuert auf einen neuen Rekord zu: 427.000 Personen verließen in den sechs Monaten das Land. Fast ein Füntel der Auswanderer sind Deutsche. (Siems) Eine dauerhate Zuwanderung ist deshalb unwahrscheinlich: In seinen Schätzungen zur Bevölkerungsentwicklung geht das Statistische Bundesamt in Deutschland von einem Wanderungssaldo zwischen 100.000 und 200.000 Menschen pro Jahr aus. Selbst damit Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr |3 wäre bis 2050 mit einem deutlichen Schrumpfen der Gesamtbevölkerung zu rechnen.3 Das bedeutet ebenfalls eine Reduzierung der Arbeitskräte‚ denn eine Integration der Zuwanderer in den Arbeitsmarkt ist ot wegen der Sprachund Bildungsniveaus mit Schwierigkeiten verbunden. Der Bericht Arbeitsmarkt 2030 lässt verlauten‚ nur durch die Kombination von steigenden Geburtenzifern [1.9 Kinder pro Frau]‚ höherer Erwerbsbeteiligung und kontinuierlicher Zuwanderung wird sich der Rückgang des Arbeitskräteangebots wenn auch nicht auhalten‚ so doch nennenswert verlangsamen lassen. (Vogeler-Ludwig Zuwanderung 19) Das Problem ist auch‚ wie der Demenz-Report (2011) verlauten lässt‚ eine Zunahme der Alten: “Im Jahre 2050 dürte jeder siebte Bürger in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 80 Jahre oder mehr zählen” (D-R 4). Dass es erheblich mehr Menschen ab 65 Jahren als unter 20 Jahren in Deutschland geben soll‚ wird auch in der Publikation Demograischer Wandel in Deutschland bestätigt: Auch die Altersgruppe der unter 20-Jährigen wird zahlen- und anteilmäßig abnehmen: Im Jahr 2030 wird sie nach der Vorausberechnung 12‚9 Millionen Personen umfassen‚ was 17 % der Gesamtbevölkerung entspricht. Lediglich die 65-Jährigen und Älteren werden immer zahlreicher. Bis zum Jahr 2030 dürte ihre Zahl um ein Dritel (33 %) steigen und 22‚3 Millionen Menschen oder 29 % der Gesamtbevölkerung betragen.4 Auch in Österreich nimmt die Zahl der Senioren zu. Die Gesamtbevölkerung Österreichs betrug am 1. Januar 2014 8‚5 Millionen; davon waren 2013 18‚2 % älter als 65. Der Altenanteil wird bis 2030 auf 23‚6 % steigen. Die Gesamtbevölkerung könnte allerdings bei einer Fertilitätsrate von nur 1‚4 Kindern pro Frau infolge der Netoeinwanderung trotzdem konstant bleiben‚ denn Österreich hat eine Netozuwanderung von im Schnit 32.000 Personen pro Jahr.5 Altersstruktur und Demenz Mit der Langlebigkeit der Seniorinnen und Senioren steigen die Alterskrankheiten‚ besonders die Demenz‚ ein Wort‚ das vom Lateinischen abgeleitet ist und “ohne Verstand‚” Unvernunt oder Torheit bedeutet. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 4 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Eine speziische Form ist die Alzheimer-Krankheit‚ so benannt nach ihrem Entdecker‚ dem Würzburger Nervenarzt Alois Alzheimer (1869–1915)‚ der sie zum ersten Mal 1906 dokumentierte. Die Zahl der Alzheimerkranken hat sich seit dieser Zeit bedeutend erhöht. Christian Behl bemerkt dazu: “Zu der Zeit‚ als Alois Alzheimer entdeckte‚ was ihn unsterblich machen sollte‚ wurden nur 5 Prozent der Bevölkerung überhaupt 65 Jahre alt” (Behl 9). Der Morbus Alzheimer führt zum Abbau der kognitiven‚ sozialen und körperlichen Funktionen‚ zu einer eingeschränkten Urteilsfähigkeit‚ zu Orientierungsstörungen und Sprachverlust. Zusätzliche Komplikationen können dadurch entstehen‚ dass die Erkrankten vergessen‚ ihre Medikamente für andere Krankheiten einzunehmen.Im Demenz-Report des Berlin-Instituts vom Februar 2011 heißt es: Bei einer Bevölkerung von 77‚4 Millionen im Jahre 2030 dürten in Deutschland zwei Millionen Menschen mit Demenz leben‚ im Jahre 2050 könnten sogar 2‚6 Millionen von insgesamt 69‚4 Millionen Einwohnern betrofen sein‚ also fast vier von hundert. Das sind zu viele‚ um sie in Heimen von Fachpersonal versorgen zu lassen. [ . . . ] Nach aktuellen Schätzungen leben heute rund 1‚3 Millionen Menschen mit Demenz in Deutschland. In Österreich sind es rund 130.000 [ . . . ]. (D-R 5–6) Caroline Schultze warnte schon 2001 vor den Auswirkungen dieser Krankheit: “Bis zum Jahr 2030 wird die Zahl der Alzheimerkranken um fast zwei Dritel ansteigen. Mediziner warnen: Die Gesellschat ist nicht darauf vorbereitet‚ dem Gesundheitssystem droht der Kollaps.” (Schultze 161) Alzheimer-Demenz und Plege Die Plege der Demenzkranken bleibt meistens den Frauen überlassen‚ denn Männer sterben früher als Frauen. So berichtet die Frankfurter Rundschau am 4. Dezember 2012 unter dem Titel “Plege ist weiblich”: “Betreuung von Angehörigen ist vor allem Frauensache. Für viele ist das eine enorme Belastung. Nicht wenige von ihnen kümmern sich länger als zehn Jahre um einen Plegebedürtigen” (Gajevic). Wer einen Demenzkranken plegt‚ ist höherem Stress ausgesetzt als Plegepersonen‚ die für Personen ohne Demenz sorgen. Und es kommt öter vor‚ dass das weibliche Plegepersonal durch die körperliche und seelische Dauerbelastung selbst erkrankt‚ wenn Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr |5 die Belastungsgrenze überschriten ist‚ besonders dann‚ wenn die demenzkranke Person Aggressivität gegen die Umwelt entwickelt. Die Mehrzahl der Demenzkranken wird zu Hause geplegt. Dies geschieht manchmal auch aus inanziellen Gründen‚ denn die Kinder sind dem Gesetz (§ 1601 BGB) nach verplichtet‚ teilweise für den Unterhalt der Eltern aufzukommen. Die Beiträge der Kinder richten sich nach Plegestufe der Kranken und dem Einkommen und Vermögen der Familenangehörigen: Neunzig Prozent der Betrofenen werden zu Hause geplegt und gehütet. Deshalb sind Familien von Alzheimer-Patienten gleichfalls Opfer der Krankheit. Auch ihr reales Leben verschwindet‚ weil ihre Realität bestimmt wird von der irren Aufgabe‚ die Erkrankten zu hüten. Es ist wie Angebundensein an einen anderen Körper‚ zwar an einen geliebten‚ aber einen‚ der immer etwas will‚ sich dauernd beschwert‚ selten schlät und sich nicht mehr selbst plegen kann. Es sind in vielen Fällen die Töchter‚ die ihr eigenes Leben aufgeben für die Betreuung der Eltern. ( Jürgs Begleiten) Das hat sich mit der Zeit geändert‚ denn nicht nur Frauen‚ sondern auch Männer betreuen die Eltern: “Längst kümmern sich mindestens vier Millionen Frauen und Männer um ihre alten Angehörigen‚ bis zu 37 Stunden in der Woche. Und die Anzahl der Ehrenamtlichen‚ die Senioren betreuen‚ steigt. Doch in der Öfentlichkeit wird selten davon gesprochen” (himm 134). Wie die Bundesfamilienministerin Manuela Schwesig erklärte‚ gehöre heute die Vereinbarkeit von Plege und Beruf zu den großen Herausforderungen vieler Familien (Emmrich hema 3). Aus diesem Grund hat die deutsche Bundesregierung ein Paket von Entlastungen erlassen. Plegende Angehörige haben demnach das Recht “auf eine beruliche Auszeit zwischen zehn Tagen [bei vollem Lohnausgleich] und 24 Monaten [mit zinslosem Darlehen des Staates‚ das zurückgezahlt werden muss]” (Emmrich hema 3). Von Januar 2015 bis Juli 2016 haben 39.000 Frauen und Männer beruliche Auszeit für die Plege genommen. Demenz und die Belletristik Die medizinische Wissenschat kann die Progression der Demenz etwas reduzieren‚ aber es gibt bis heute kein Mitel‚ sie zu heilen. Eine medizini- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 6 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 sche Analyse erklärt nur einen Teilprozess. Eine umfassendere Analyse ist interdisziplinär‚ denn viele Faktoren sind im Altwerden enthalten. Wichtig für ein besseres Verständnis ist die Belletristik‚ die weitere Kreise der Bevölkerung erreicht als die Fachzeitschriten. Sie könnte uns auch helfen‚ die Alterskrankheiten besser zu verstehen und mit den Kranken umzugehen. Die Beschätigung der Literatur mit den Krankheiten der Altersgruppe wurde schon öters bemerkt: Vielleicht gelingt es den Kräten von Literatur‚ Philosophie und Wissenschat‚ die Wahrnehmung der vielen Faceten des Alters heute zu schärfen. (Rosenmayr IV) It has become increasingly clear that literature and the arts provide a powerful way to evoke the experience of aging [ . . . ] since these works oten provide a kind of phenomenological understanding sorely missing from traditional gerontology. (homas R. Cole in: Polisar viii) Das Alter ist ein so vieldeutiges Phänomen‚ es ereignet sich auf so vielfache Weise‚ es läßt sich unter so verschiedenen Gesichtspunkten bewerten‚ daβ auch die Literatur nicht imstande ist‚ es in all seinen Dimensionen erschöpfend zu bestimmen. Was sie vermag‚ ist lediglich dies: einige Erscheinungsformen‚ einige Aspekte ins Bild zu bringen und den Wandel der Beziehungen zur Welt zu veranschaulichen‚ den das Alter mit sich bringt. Und auch das läßt Literatur uns schließlich erkennen: daβ wir es uns schuldig sind‚ dem Alter mit Ofenheit und Zuneigung zu begegnen—und‚ wo es uns möglich ist‚ mit Erbarmen. (Lenz 94–95) Diese Forderung besteht auch heute noch‚ wie sie der Demenz-Report anführt: Wir müssen lernen‚ mit Demenz zu leben. Wir dürfen zwar nicht vergessen‚ dass Demenz eine Krankheit ist‚ aber wir sollten in erster Linie den Mitmenschen mit Demenz sehen und dafür Sorge tragen‚ dass er mit seinen Wünschen und Fähigkeiten in soziale Bezüge eingebunden bleibt. Das ist leider noch nicht oder nicht mehr selbstverständlich. (D-R 5) Zu den ersten literarisch überlieferten Beschreibungen der Demenz gehört Shakespeares King Lear‚ uraufgeführt 1606. In dem Dialog mit seiner Tochter Cordelia‚ die ihn mit dem Arzt und Gefolge aufsucht‚ klagt er: Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr |7 Spotet meiner nicht! Ich bin ein schwacher‚ kind’scher‚ alter Mann‚ Achtzig und drüber[ . . . ] Ich fürchte fast‚ ich bin nicht recht bei Sinnen. Mich dünkt‚ ich kenn’ Euch‚ kenn’ auch diesen Mann‚ Doch zweil’ ich noch‚ denn ich begreif ’ es nicht‚ An welchem Ort ich bin; all meinen Verstand Entsinnt sich dieser Kleider nicht‚ noch weiß ich‚ wo ich die Nacht schlief. Lacht nicht über mich, [ . . . ] (Shakespeare: König Lear IV‚vii: 192) Die Wahrscheinlichkeit‚ an Alzheimer zu erkranken‚ ist heute nicht größer als in der Vergangenheit‚ aber die Zahl der Erkrankungen hat durch die Langlebigkeit rapide zugenommen. Die Belletristik hat sich in zunehmendem Maße mit der Darstellung der Alzheimer-Krankheit befasst. Irmela Marei Krüger-Fürhof analysiert vier Werke‚ darunter ein deutschsprachiges,6 um aufzuzeigen‚ “how these literary texts explore the realm between narrative selves and their pending post-narrative conditions” (92). Für meinen Beitrag habe ich fünf Werke ausgewählt: Fritz Habecks “Dezemberabend‚” das deutlich die Immunität der Tochter gegenüber ihrem demenziell erkrankten Vater zum Ausdruck bringt; Felix Miterers Autragsstück Der Panther‚ in dem der Autor aufzeigt‚ dass Liebe und Zuneigung zum Partner auch in der Krankheit des Vergessens nicht gänzlich vergessen sind. Die Erinnerungschronik Nackte Väter von Margit Schreiner vergleicht den Vater‚ wie er war und wie er jetzt ist. Frau Dahls Flucht ins Ungewisse von Leonore Suhl vereint durch die Aktivierung des Langzeitgedächtnisses die Alzheimer-Krankheit ihrer Muter mit den Ereignissen der Nazi- und Kriegszeit. Arno Geigers Roman Der alte König in seinem Exil zeigt‚ dass die Alzheimer-Krankheit auch kreativ sein kann‚ und dass der alte Mann‚ “despite recurrimg feelings of despair and disorientation on the whole still enjoys himself ” (Krüger-Fürhof 99). Man hat sich lange gescheut‚ über das hema Alzheimer zu sprechen. Der Untertitel von Wolfgang Borcherts Hörspiel “Draußen vor der Tür” heißt: “Ein Stück‚ das kein heater spielen und kein Publlikum sehen will” (Borchert 99). Das hat sich jetzt geändert‚ denn nicht nur die Literatur‚ sondern auch die Medien‚ besonders der Film‚ haben dieses Tabuthema aufgegrifen. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 8 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Belletristik7 Der Panther von Felix Miterer8 Felix Miterers Monologstück Sibirien‚ geschrieben 1989‚ schildert einen alten Mann in einem Plegeheim. Verlassen von seiner gesamten Familie‚ erwartet er den Tod. Als Soldat war er in Sibirien‚ und die sibirische Kälte kennzeichnet auch sein Krankenlager. Sein letzter Wunsch ist es‚ in Würde zu sterben. Angeprangert werden hier die Missstände‚ die in Plegeheimen herrschen.9 Das Autragsbühnenstück Der Panther behandelt eine ähnliche hematik. Zugeeignet ist es dem Kammerschauspieler Fritz Muliar (= Friedrich Ludwig Stand‚ 1909–2009) anlässlich seines 70-jährigen Bühnenjubiläums. Auch hier geht es um alte Leute‚ um die Krankheit des Vergessens‚ und um ein Plegeheim. Ein Mann kommt nach jahrelanger Abwesenheit wieder nach Hause— ein moderner Odysseus. Und wie sein homerischer Vorgänger erkennt seine Frau den Namenlosen nicht wieder. Er fühlt in Erinnerungsmomenten‚ dass er bei seiner Frau ist; sie dagegen geht durch verschiedene Stadien der Erinnerung: der Unsicherheit‚ des Ahnens‚ des Vermutens‚ bis zu der Überzeugung‚ dass der Mann‚ der ihr in der Wohnung gegenüber sitzt‚ der Kognak trinkt und Zigareten raucht‚ dass dies ihr Mann ist‚ mit dem sie 50 Jahre lang verheiratet ist. Hinweise für den Verlauf des Stückes sind von Miterer schon durch die Namensgebung angezeigt. Die Liebe wird angedeutet durch die Namensgebung der Frau‚ denn der französische Name Marion‚ die Koseform von Maria‚ symbolisiert Santheit und Liebe. Die Wandlung des Mannes wird ebenfalls durch den Namen vorbereitet‚ denn homas‚ einer der Jünger Jesu‚ vollzieht den Wandel vom Zweiler zum Wissenden. Auch der Name Liebherr steht für die Liebe‚ die zwischen den beiden trotz der langen Abwesenheit immer noch existiert. Das Stück kann in vier hemenbereiche unterteilt werden: den lückenhaten Weg zur Erinnerung; die inanzielle Ausnutzung und den psychologischen Missbrauch der Demenzkranken; die Reaktion auf den Verlust der Erinnerung; das Wiederinden der Erinnerung durch Zuneigung‚ Wertschätzung und Liebe. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr |9 * 1. Der lückenhate Weg zur Erinnerung Marion Liebherr‚ eine ältere Frau‚ kommt von dem Begräbnis eines Mannes zurück‚ von dem sie annimmt‚ dass er ihr eigener ist. Sie hat mit ihrem Auto einen älteren Mann ungefährlich verletzt. Da sie ohne Führerschein fährt‚ hat sie Angst‚ dass er sie anzeigt. Deshalb erfüllt sie seinen Wunsch‚ ihn für einige Tage bei sich aufzunehmen. Sie ist nicht sicher‚ ob der Mann den Unfall provoziert hat oder nicht‚ denn er tauchte “urplötzlich” (14) vor ihrem Wagen auf. Der Mann ist homas Liebherr‚ und er ist nach langjährigem Aufenthalt einem Plegeheim entlohen‚ in das ihn seine Frau hat überweisen lassen. Er hat die Papiere seines Zimmernachbarn‚ eines gewissen Dr. Altmann‚ an sich genommen‚ der unter dem Namen Liebherr begraben wird. Beide Personen‚ homas Liebherr wie auch die Frau‚ leiden an Demenz‚ wobei der Krankheitsverlauf bei dem Mann weiter fortgeschriten ist als bei ihr. Ein Hinweis hierfür ist in der Bühnenanweisung enthalten‚ denn ein “kompliziertes Puzzle” liegt auf dem Esstisch (9). Da Marion später an dem Puzzle arbeitet‚ ist anzunehmen‚ dass ihre Demenz noch im Anfangsstadium ist. Ein Zusammenlegspiel ist eine geistige Aktivität‚ die den Verlauf der Gehirnkrankheit retardieren soll. Ein Groß-Puzzle vermitelt nicht nur ein Erfolgserlebnis‚ sondern stellt auch einen Bezug zur Außenwelt dar‚ da die Teilstücke der Welt‚ so wie sie die Demenzkranken sehen‚ sich wieder zu einem Ganzen zusammenfügen. Das gilt nicht nur für Marion‚ sondern auch für homas Liebherr‚ der die Teile seines Lebens wieder zusammenfügen möchte. Das Puzzle hat aber noch eine übertragene Bedeutung. Das Stück ist zu Anfang verwirrend. Es sind Teilstücke‚ die erst vom Leser- oder heaterpublikum zusammengefügt werden müssen‚ so dass ein vollständiges Bild entsteht. Man weiß zu Anfang nicht‚ wer der Mann ist‚ der als “Der Mann ohne Name” angegeben ist. Das Anfangsgespräch zwischen den beiden ist doppeldeutig‚ verständlicher für den Mann als für die Frau. Wenn die Frau sagt‚ dass sie gerade von dem Begräbnis ihres Mannes kommt‚ erwidert er: “Hauptsache‚ es war nicht ich [ . . . ]. Ich habe noch was zu erledigen‚ bevor ich abtrete” (14–15). Was er zu erledigen hat‚ wird erst später ofensichtlich. Auch die Anzüge des angeblich begrabenen Ehemannes passen ihm. Nur sein neuer Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 10 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Name‚ unter dem er sich später vorstellt‚ ist ihm ungewohnt. Er muss erst auf seine Handläche sehen‚ auf die er den Namen Altmann geschrieben hat. Später steigen Zweifel in Marion auf‚ ob es ihr Mann war‚ von dessen Begräbnis sie kommt: “Ich wunder mich schon die ganze Zeit‚ wen ich da eigentlich begraben hab. Es war Doktor Altmann. Nicht wahr?” (90). Wenn er sagt: “Mit Ihrem Mann häte ich mich gut verstanden‚” und sie erwidert: “Bestimmt. Er war genauso streitlustig wie Sie” (23)‚ werden Bezüge hergestellt‚ die für das Publikum verständlicher sind als für Marion. 2. Finanzielle Ausnutzung und psychologischer Missbrauch der Demenzkranken Mit dem Erscheinen des angeblichen Nefen Heinz führt Miterer eine sozialkritische Note in sein Stück ein. Heinz benutzt seine Position als Vormund‚ die demenzkranke Frau inanziell auszubeuten und sie psychisch zu erniedrigen. Diese Misshandlungen an Demenzkranke sind nicht selten; so heißt es im Spiegel: “[S]eelische Misshandlung‚ Vernachlässigung‚ inanzielle Abzockerei‚ und Beschneidung des freien Willens. So räumen Angehörige das Bankkonto leer . . .” (Brandt 107). Heinz hat Marion entmündigen lassen‚ da sie ihre Rechnungen nicht bezahlt hat. Andere Anzeichen‚ dass sie dement geworden ist‚ sind die von dem “Nefen” angefertigten‚ auf Papier geschriebenen Erinnerungsstützen‚ wie z. B.: “Herd abschalten! Bügeleisen ausschalten! Wasser bei der Waschmaschine abdrehen! Schlüssel nicht draußen an der Wohnungstür stecken lassen!” (26)‚ alles Verhaltensmaßregeln für Demenzkranke. Diese Maßnahmen des “Nefen” erwecken den Anschein‚ dass er ihr helfen will. Die Fürsorge dieses “Nefen” ist jedoch vordergründig‚ denn es geht ihm darum‚ das Geld der Frau an sich zu bringen. Ihren Wagen hat er für 4000 € verkaut‚ die 2000 € auf dem Tisch steckt er in seine eigene Tasche‚ und er weigert sich‚ Marion bei sich zuhause aufzunehmen. Falls er ihr Geld häte‚ so lässt er sie wissen‚ könnte er einen Teil benutzen‚ sie komfortabel in einem Altenheim unterbringen zu lassen. Sie geht allerdings nicht auf diesen Vorschlag ein‚ und er verlässt unter Drohungen die Wohnung. Miterer zeigt hier die Gefährdung der Demenzkranken durch kriminelle Ausbeuter‚ die die Verfremdung der Realität der Erkrankten ausnutzen. Marion setzt sich allerdings noch dagegen zur Wehr. Sie erzählt dem “Nefen‚” der sich erst nach der Heimunterbringung ihres Mannes bei ihr eingeführt hat‚ nicht die ganze Wahrheit. Der “Nefe” jedoch weiß‚ dass er die Zeit auf seiner Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 11 Seite hat‚ denn Demenz ist progressiv; er braucht nur zu warten‚ bis er sein Ziel erreicht hat. Er würde ihr Konto plündern‚ aber sie hate schon vorsorglich das Geld abgehoben. Er glaubt‚ dass sie es zu Hause versteckt hat‚ und schreckt nicht davor zurück‚ die gesamte Wohnung durchsuchen zu lassen. Er weiß‚ dass er das legal tun kann. 3. Reaktion auf den Verlust der Erinnerung Der für einen Moment allein gelassene homas Liebherr‚ ein ehemaliger Professor für Literatur‚ versucht kramphat‚ Rilkes Panthergedicht‚ das sein Lieblingsgedicht gewesen ist und das er auch auswendig gekonnt hat‚ wieder zu zitieren. Es gelingt ihm nur teilweise. Er weiß‚ dass seine Erinnerung lückenhat ist‚ dass er seine Identität vollkommen verlieren wird. Er schaut in den großen Spiegel und zitiert aus dem Gedicht: “Dann geht ein Bild hinein” (39)‚ eine Stelle‚ an der er wiederholt verzweifelt. Dies ist der Auslöser der folgenden Handlung. Er zerschlägt sein Spiegelbild mit dem Spazierstock und rut aus: “Ich halte das nicht mehr aus! Ich halt das nicht mehr aus!” (40). Diese letzte Szene wird von Marion beobachtet‚ und das gibt ihr die Gewissheit‚ dass dies ihr Mann ist‚ der nach langjährigem Aufenthalt im Plegeheim wieder nach Hause zurückgekehrt ist. Diese Spiegelepisode erinnert an das Gedicht “Leerer Spiegel” von Victor Fritz‚ das Miterer in einer Anthologie veröfentlicht hat: Leerer Spiegel Du siehst in den Spiegel‚ Der Spiegel ist leer. Du hast kein Gesicht‚ Du siehst “Es” nicht mehr. Deine Person ist verschwunden im Nichts‚ Du kannst dich nicht inden Im leeren Spiegel. Du bekommst Angst vor der Leere— Dem Nichts. Das Nichts “Es” ist alles und nichts. (Fritz 16) Das Verhalten homas Liebherrs zeigt aber auch‚ dass trotz fortgeschrittener Demenz noch Lichtblicke in die Realität möglich sind. Er weiß‚ dass Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 12 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 seine Zeit begrenzt ist. Dieses Wissen erzeugt eine existenzielle Angstwelle in ihm‚ ein “Draußen-vor-der-Tür-Stehen‚” auch vor der eigenen Tür. 4. Das Wiederinden der Erinnerung durch Zuneigung‚ Wertschätzung und Liebe Mehr als die Hälte des Schauspiels ist dem Versuch der Frau gewidmet‚ diesen Mann‚ den sie als ihren eigenen Mann erkannt hat‚ wieder in die Realität zurückzuführen. Der Mann hat zum großen Teil mit ihr gespielt‚ vielleicht aus Rache dafür‚ dass sie ihn in das Plegeheim hat überweisen lassen. Aber jetzt kommt stoßweise die Wahrheit an das Licht. Wenn die Frau ihm sagt‚ dass er dorthin gehen soll‚ woher er gekommen ist‚ erwidert er nur: “Ich geh nicht hin‚ wo ich herkam. Das ist kein guter Ort” (47). Er erklärt sein Nichtimmer-treu-Gewesensein mit: “Ich befürchte‚ ich war kein guter Ehemann” (47). Er erklärt ihr‚ dass sein Gedächtnis ihn immer öter im Stich lasse‚ sagt aber dann: “Manchmal bin ich vollkommen klar” (47)‚ dass aber dann seine Erinnerungen‚ die Bilder der Vergangenheit‚ gestört sind. Marion versucht‚ diese vergangenen Bilder zu stärken. Zuerst erwähnt sie die Bezeichnung Panther‚ die ein Kosename aus seiner Jugend gewesen ist. Der Mann erinnert sich; als der angebliche Nefe erscheint‚ entlarvt er ihn als “Betrüger Hochstapler Schwindler” (65)‚ und wirt ihn kurzerhand aus der Wohnung. Die Frau glaubt‚ dass das Spiel ihres Mannes jetzt zu Ende sei. Sie wechselt vom formalen Sie zum vertraulichen Du über‚ aber das geschieht nur ihrerseits. Der Mann bleibt beim formalen Sie. Dann schockiert ihn die Frau und fragt ihn nach dem Namen ihres neunzehnjährigen Sohnes‚ der Selbstmord mit seinem Auto begangen hat. Der Mann fängt zu zitern an‚ und er kann kein Ton herausbringen. Die Frau greit dann wieder auf das unpersönliche Sie zurück‚ und sie erwähnt auch die Stadt Paris. Paris war die Stadt‚ in der sie und ihr Mann eine wunderbare Zeit verbracht haten. Der Mann erinnert sich an diesen glücklichen Teil seines Lebens. Miterer zeigt hier‚ dass der Bund zwischen ihm und Marion in der Lage ist‚ die Gefühle aus seiner Vergangenheit wiederzubeleben. Er beginnt auch einige Teile des Lieds von Maurice Chevalier zu singen: “Paris je t’aime d’amour‚” ein Lied‚ dessen Text zu Beginn des Stückes zur Gänze wiedergegeben wird. Dieses Experiment hilt‚ und die Erinnerung kehrt wieder. homas Liebherr hat das Plegeheim verlassen‚ um seine Frau wieder zu sehen. Er beklagt‚ dass die Gedichte ihm fehlen‚ besonders das Panther-Gedicht. Marion zitiert es ihm jetzt vollständig‚ aber der Mann weiß‚ dass die Erinnerung Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 13 ihn bald wieder verlassen wird. Für eine Weile alleingelassen‚ steckt er eine rote Rose in die Vase und geht auf die Straße hinaus. homas Liebherr will sein Leben in Würde beenden. Er geht freiwillig in den Tod‚ oder wie Arthur Schnitzler den Dichter Filippo Loschi in seinem Schauspiel Der Schleier der Beatrice in einer anderen hofnungslosen Situation hat sagen lassen: “Mit Willen/Dahinzu gehn‚ ist Freiheit‚ und mich dünkt‚/Die einz’ge‚ die uns Sterblichen gegönnt ist!” (Schnitzler (2) 637). Das Dinggedicht “Der Panther” von Rainer Maria Rilke besteht aus drei Strophen zu je vier Versen. Die erste Strophe beschreibt die Gefangenschat des Panthers‚ den Entzug seiner gewohnten Freiheit. Er bringt sein Leben hinter Giterstäben zu: “Ihm ist‚ als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe‚ und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.” Die zweite Strophe zeigt seine eingeschränkte Bewegungsfreiheit. Sein Wille ist jedoch nur betäubt. Der Durchbruch geschieht in der driten Strophe‚ allerdings nur zeitlich beschränkt. Dieses “manchmal‚” zusätzlich eingeschränkt durch das Adverb “nur‚” ist möglich durch ein großes Wollen‚ sodass ein Bild der Außenwelt in sein Innerstes eingeht. Im Gegensatz zum Panther allerdings gelingt es dem Mann‚ seinem Käig zu entliehen‚ getrieben von seinem Willen‚ seine Frau wieder zu sehen‚ oder wie er sagt: “Ich habe jemanden gesucht [ . . . ] Meine Frau. Meine Frau” (91). Miterer zeigt in seinem Stück etwas‚ was medizinische Berichte nicht enthalten. Er erweckt eine Betrofenheit‚ die uns angeht und die uns dazu führt‚ Mitleid und Erbarmen mit diesem demenzkranken Mann zu empinden. Er prangert zudem die Kriminalität solcher Menschen an‚ die die Kranken ausbeuten. Gezeigt wird aber auch die Liebe zum Partner‚ die dieser demenzkranke Mensch dem Schicksal entgegensetzt. Obwohl Rilke sein Gedicht nicht als Beschreibung Demenzkranker verfasst hat‚ hilt uns dieses Gedicht wie kaum ein anderes‚ den verzweifelten‚ auch aussichtslosen Kampf mit dieser Krankheit näherzubringen. Das letzte Bild‚ das homas Liebherr in sich aufnimmt‚ ist wie das Erblühen und das Verblühen der Rose‚ das nochmalige Zusammensein mit seiner Frau. Es ist das letzte Mal‚ bevor er seinem Leben ein Ende setzt. Bei Rilke heißt es: Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille sich lautlos auf—. Dann geht ein Bild hinein‚ geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille— und hört im Herzen auf zu sein. (94) * Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 14 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 “Dezemberabend” von Fritz Habeck10 Ein alter Mann kehrt heim. Er wohnt im niederösterreichischen Lauterbach: “Ja‚ in Lauterbach [ . . . ]. Da wohne ich. Im Schulhaus. Meine Frau wird schon warten auf mich” (137). Der weit über 80 Jahre alte Mann war der Oberlehrer dieser Gemeinde. Seit Jahren wohnt er schon im Greisenheim in Haid und seine Frau ist schon lange tot. Der Mann‚ der ihn‚ den Dementen‚ in die Gaststube geführt hat‚ ist Taxifahrer‚ der jetzt nach vielem Herumfahren sein Geld haben will. Der Alte ist aus einem Greisenheim ausgebrochen und lässt sich mit dem Taxi auf der Suche nach seiner Frau in verschiedene Ortschaten fahren. Er will zurück in das Schulhaus‚ in dem sein Zuhause war‚ in dem aber jetzt ein Anderer wohnt. Der Erzähler dieser Geschichte erbarmt sich seiner‚ bezahlt die Fahrt‚ und fährt den Alten zu dessen in der Nähe wohnenden Tochter. Der Empfang indet in der Küche stat‚ denn im Wohnzimmer sieht der Lebensgefährte der geschiedenen Tochter in die “Blaue Scheibe‚” zusammen mit dem Untermieter. Christine‚ die Tochter‚ lehnt eine Rückkehr ihres Vaters strikt ab: “‘Ja ja’‚ sagte Christine und lächelte fröhlich wie ihre Pute. ‛Das ist so eine Geschichte mit dem Vater‚ wir kennen das‚ wir erleben es immer wieder‚ er ist nämlich im Greisenheim in Haid‚ und von Zeit zu Zeit reiβt er ihnen aus’” (140). Sie versteht nicht‚ weshalb er ausgebrochen ist‚ denn er habe ja alles da‚ was ein Mensch braucht: “Zentralheizung‚ ließendes Wasser‚ jede[n] Komfort und richtige Plege” (ibid.). Außerdem wäre der alte Mann eine ungeheure Belastung für sie und ihren Lebensgefährten‚ da sie beide arbeiten und tagsüber außer Hause sind. Und ohne Arbeit häten sie es nicht geschat‚ eine so schöne Wohnung zu haben und ein Auto‚ denn nach dem Krieg haten sie mit nichts angefangen. Der Hauptgrund jedoch für ihre Weigerung‚ den Vater bei sich aufzunehmen‚ ist seine Versponnenheit und seine Senilität. Er habe einen allzu kleinen Horizont‚ interessiere sich nur für das Kleine‚ so z. B. für den Ort Lauterbach‚ für die Käfer‚ die Feldblumen‚ und für die vergangene Heimatgeschichte. Heutzutage habe man einen größeren Horizont: “Unsereiner hört was von der Welt‚ die Schwierigkeiten mit den Negern in Amerika‚ man ist modern‚ und Vietnam‚ und die Russen‚ und die Chinesen; er hört da gar nicht hin‚ sagt womöglich gleich‚ man müsse erst von Lauterbach was wissen‚ bevor man über den Kongo redet” (140). Die wichtigen Dinge passieren doch nicht Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 15 in Lauterbach‚ sondern in der großen Welt. Sie verabschiedet sich vom Vater und dem Erzähler‚ bezahlt nicht die Taxifahrt‚ denn das ist Aufgabe des Greisenheims‚ küsst den Vater noch auf die Wange und wünscht ihm “Fröhliche Weihnachten und ein Glückliches Neues Jahr” (142). Dann kehrt sie zu ihrem Lebensgefährten und dem Untermieter zurück und schaut sich mit ihnen den Krimi an. Die letzten Worte des Alten sind: “Meine Frau wird sich Sorgen machen [ . . . ]. Fahren wir jetzt nach Lauterbach?” Die Erwiderung des Erzählers ist: “Erst auf Höheren Befehl [ . . . ]. Und dann jeder für sich!” (142). In dieser sozialkritischen Erzählung wird der alte demente Oberlehrer von seiner Familie nicht um-‚ sondern entsorgt. Er wäre eine zu große Belastung für sie‚ und so steckt die Tochter ihn ins Greisenheim‚ das mit allem äußeren Komfort versehen ist. Nicht aber mit dem‚ was der Mensch in dieser Lage braucht und sucht: Zuneigung und Liebe. Das Greisenheim ist unpersönlich‚ und es ist verständlich‚ dass der ehemalige Oberlehrer gerade zur Weihnachtszeit in sein ehemaliges Zuhause zurück will‚ in dem er sich heimisch gefühlt hat. Weihnachten ist die Zeit der Nächstenliebe. Was er jedoch indet‚ ist nicht Nächstenliebe‚ sondern Selbstliebe. Die Tochter‚ ironischerweise Christine genannt‚ schickt ihren Vater wieder in das Heim zurück‚ aus dem er ausgebrochen ist. Für sie und ihren Lebensgefährten stehen die Sachwerte und der persönliche Komfort höher als die menschlichen Werte. Habeck stellt in dieser kurzen Erzählung die Werte zweier Epochen gegenüber. Der Oberlehrer betont nicht nur die großen geschichtlichen Perioden und Ereignisse‚ sondern er erwähnt auch “wie die Blumen heißen und die Käfer” (140). Er schätzt das Kleine‚ das Lebenserhaltende‚ und das ist für ihn wichtiger als das so genannte Große. Er gerät damit in die unmitelbare Nähe zu Adalbert Stiter‚ für den das Kleine das Große ist und das Große das Kleine‚ wie Stiter es im Vorwort zu der Novellensammlung Bunte Steine (1853) beschrieben hat. Die großen Ereignisse sind nur kurz andauernd‚ während das so genannte Kleine das Bleibende‚ Lebenserhaltende ist. Stiter bezeichnet dies als das “Sante Gesetz;” es ist in der Liebe zu den Kindern zu inden wie auch in der Liebe der Kinder zu ihren Eltern. Fritz Habeck‚ der 1973 den Adalbert-Stiter-Preis‚ den Groβen Kulturpreis des Landes Oberösterreich‚ erhalten hat‚ zeigt in dieser Erzählung den Kontrast in den Familienbeziehungen auf‚ der zwischen der Biedermeierzeit und der Wohlstandsgesellschat der Moderne liegt. Diese Letztere ist geprägt durch ein kapitalistisches Denken‚ in dem Sachwerte höher stehen als die menschlichen Beziehungen. Um diese Beziehungen zu bewahren oder wie- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 16 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 der herzustellen‚ ist es nicht nötig‚ global zu denken‚ wie es bei Christine der Fall ist. * Nackte Väter von Margit Schreiner11 In Margit Schreiners Gedenkschrit Nackte Väter erleben wir den Vater so‚ wie er vor seiner Demenzkrankheit gewesen ist‚ und in seiner jetzigen Situation. Während die Tochter der Erinnerung nachgeht‚ verliert sich die Erinnerung bei dem Vater Schrit für Schrit. Gezeigt wird auch die Aufopferung der Familie‚ die den dementen Ehemann und Vater betreut. Dies ist für die Familie psychologisch belastender als für die eingestellten Plegekräte‚ die nicht eine so starke emotionale Beziehung zu dem Erkrankten haben. Über das individuelle Schicksal hinaus wird unsere eigene Sterblichkeit angedeutet. Geschildert werden zu Anfang hauptsächlich die Erinnerungen an die kleine Welt innerhalb der Familie: Das Parasolsuchen im Wald‚ das Huckepacktragen‚ das Auf-den-Knien-Wippen‚ das Gesicht-an-seine-SchulterSchmiegen‚ das Geschichten-Erzählen. Diese Geschichten handeln von Leben und Tod‚ aber auch von Menschen‚ die zwar noch leben‚ aber von der Gesellschat als gestorben betrachtet werden—von Scheintoten. Die Angehörigen geben den Scheintoten in einen Sarg‚ schließen den Sargdeckel und denken nicht daran‚ “daβ sie einen Scheintoten vor sich haben könnten” (21). Diese Szene deutet auf das Kommende hin‚ als der “scheintote” Vater‚ im Plegeheim in einem Giterbet liegt‚ und die Tochter denkt: “Er wird Angst gehabt haben‚ sie könnte ihn wegschieben‚ bevor er tot ist. Zuerst tot‚ wird er gedacht haben‚ und dann erst abtransportieren” (111). Aber der demente Vater war schon “tot‚” schon seit drei Jahren (114)‚ wird aber noch durch Medikamente an einem Leben ohne Inhalt erhalten. Der Morbus Alzheimer hat in ihm in den letzten Stadien seiner Erkrankung die Erinnerung getilgt‚ und ihn damit seiner Identität beraubt. Zu dem positiven Vaterbild der Vergangenheit gehört der Vater als Retter aus schwierigen‚ lebensgefährenden Situationen. Er hat die Tochter vor dem Ertrinken bewahrt‚ als sie bei ihren Tauchversuchen im Pichlinger See unter die Lutmatratze geriet (44). Sie ist überzeugt‚ dass sie bei einem Fallschirmsprung in die Arme des Vaters fallen würde (43). Diese geträumten und tatsächlichen Episoden vermiteln ein positives Vaterbild‚ im Gegensatz Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 17 zu einer kurz darauf folgenden Beschreibung‚ die sich stilistisch und inhaltlich von den vorigen Erinnerungen abhebt. Der Vater‚ der in der Nacht nackt durch die Wohnung läut‚ will in das Bet der ihn besuchenden Tochter. Sie schaut ihn an: Sein Körper war dünn und übersät mit roten und braunen Flecken‚ Warzen und Erhebungen. Überall am Hals‚ unter den Armen‚ am Bauch war zu viel Haut an seinem Körper. Die Arme waren dürr. Auch die Beine. Außerdem waren sie stark nach innen gebogen. Zwischen den krummen Beinen baumelte sein Geschlecht. (52) Sie bedeckt sich und lüstert: “Geh weg!” (53). Am nächsten Tag fährt sie mit ihrer dreijährigen Tochter auf dem Arm zu einem ingierten Abendessen mit Freunden und geht einkaufen: “Ich ließ den Wagen stehen und lief mit meiner Tochter auf dem Arm aus dem Delikatessengeschät in den Schillerpark gegenüber‚ wo ich unter hohen‚ lind-grünen Bäumen ins Gebüsch kotzte” (57). Dieses Kotzen ist ein Sich-Erbrechen aus Ekel und auch aus der Erkenntnis heraus‚ dass sie ihren Vater jetzt endgültig verloren hat. Er ist jetzt nicht nur äuβerlich nackt‚ sondern auch innerlich. Die Überweisung des Vaters zuerst in das Krankenhaus‚ dann in das Plegeheim‚ geschieht auf den Wunsch der Muter: “Herr Doktor”‚ habe sie dort zu dem Oberarzt gesagt‚ “ich kann nicht mehr. Diese Unruhe”‚ habe sie gesagt‚ “das An- und Ausziehen‚ die ganze Nacht. Er will immer raus und rein in die Dunkelheit‚ in die Kälte‚ nackt‚ Herr Oberarzt‚ er ist ja nicht mehr zu lenken. Er macht‚ was er will‚ er schubst mich miten in der Nacht‚ daβ ich hinfalle und nicht mehr hochkomme. Er zieht sich nicht aus und nicht an. Je nachdem”. (69–70) Der fast 90-Jährige sitzt nur mit einem Hemd bekleidet in der Kälte draußen vor der Tür und zieht sich eine Lungenentzündung zu‚ die jedoch mit Antibiotika geheilt werden kann. Bei der vierten Lungenentzündung verweigert die Frau die Überweisung vom Plegeheim ins Krankenhaus und setzt auch die Antibiotika ab. Fünf Tage später stirbt ihr Mann. Das faktisch Bleibende des Vaters ist sein Gebiss‚ das im Werk immer wieder vorkommt. Eingeführt schon im ersten Abschnit‚ als die Muter der Tochter “plötzlich etwas Hartes‚ Spitzes‚ Glates” zusteckt (11). Die Tochter Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 18 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 nimmt das Gebiss ihres Vaters mit nach Berlin‚ und die Zähne “schwimmen jetzt bei mir daheim in Berlin in einem Wasserglas in meinem Spiegelschrank im Bad [ . . . ] unter meinen eigenen Zähnen (einer so genannten Teilprothese‚ drei Zähne)‚ die sich ebenfalls immer ein bisschen drehen‚ wenn ich sie anstoße” (15). Am Ende heißt es: “Meine Tochter sitzt auf der Schulter meines Mannes‚ trommelt mit den Fersen auf seiner nackten Brust und lacht. Auch mein Mann lacht und zeigt sein vollständiges‚ makelloses Gebiss” (135). Das Spiel des Kindes wiederholt ihr eigenes: “Komm‚ laβ dich umarmen‚ Vati. Ich spring dich jetzt an‚ von vorne‚ meine Beine links und rechts an deinem Körper‚ die Hände um den Hals‚ und du hältst mich gut fest. Auch wenn ich von hinten auf deinen Rücken springe”(18). Das Spiel des Kindes mit ihrem Mann verbindet die Ich-Erzählerin mit ihrem Vater‚ und das Gebiss des Ehemannes erinnert sie an das Gebiss des toten Vaters. Der Kreislauf des Lebens hat sich geschlossen‚ ein Zyklus von Stirb und Werde. Das Werk beginnt mit einem Begräbnis‚ und es endet mit einer Airmation des Lebens: Die kleine lachende Tochter steht am Anfang ihres Lebens‚ die Erzählenden und ihr Mann stehen in der Mite‚ und der demente Vater am Ende. Angedeutet wird hier auch‚ dass das Nicht-mehr-Sein für uns alle gilt‚ auch wenn dieser Gedanke in der Jugend verdrängt wird—wir sind‚ wie das Kind der Erzählerin “lachenden Munds‚” oder wie es bei Rilke heiβt: Schluβstück Der Tod ist groß. Wir sind die Seinen lachenden Munds. Wenn wir uns miten im Leben meinen‚ wagt er zu weinen miten in uns. (Conrady 640) Die Langzeile dieses Gedichts‚ die durch das Druckbild betont wird‚ teilt als Mitelachse das Gedicht in zwei Hälten. Die letzte Zeile scheint deshalb zu fehlen. Sie wird durch den Leser ergänzt und könnte die erste Zeile wiederholen. Diese Zeile wäre damit in unser Inneres gelegt‚ genauso wie der Tod “miten in uns” wartet. * Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 19 Frau Dahls Flucht ins Ungewisse von Leonore Suhl12 Die 1922 in Ostpreußen geborene Autorin zeigt in diesem Roman den Verlust der Ich-Identität ihrer Muter‚ der dieses Werk gewidmet ist. Wie Miriam Seidler bemerkt‚ handelt es sich dabei um den “ersten deutschsprachigen Roman‚ in dem die Krankheit Alzheimer thematisiert wird” (Seidler 56)—eine Beschreibung des Morbus Alzheimer aus der Gefühlswelt der dementen Protagonistin. Ein zweites Anliegen dieses Werkes ist die psychologische Belastung der Familie‚ die die Kranke plegt. Dazu kommen ein mahnendes Erinnern an die Kriegsgräuel und die Verbrechen der Nazizeit‚ inkl. der Judenverfolgung. Die Alzheimer-Krankheit ist bekannt dafür‚ dass sie das Kurzzeitgedächtnis löscht‚ während sie das Langzeitgedächtnis mit seinen Erinnerungen und Erlebnissen teilweise wieder aktiviert. Dies sind die “Erinnerungsbrocken‚” die sich durch den gesamten Roman ziehen. Demenzielle Syndrome der Alzheimer-Krankheit Bereits zu Anfang wird ein Frühstadium der geistigen Verwirrung gezeigt. Die gebildete 87-jährige Frau Dahl‚ die ihren Sohn Benno fragen muss‚ wie alt sie eigentlich sei‚ die von ihren Angehörigen betreut wird‚ schaut sich die Bilder ihres erstorbenen Mannes Ludwig im Fotoalbum an‚ aber sie tut es in einem Raum‚ der ihr trotz des langen darin Wohnens fremd vorkommt: “Überhaupt war ihr alles fremd in diesem Zimmer‚ die ganze Wohnung war ihr fremd‚ wenn auch alle behaupteten‚ sie wohne hier schon seit Jahren. [ . . . ] Die Gegenwart trat auf der Stelle‚ eine Zukunt gab es nicht” (9). Zeit und Raum gehen in ihr durcheinander. Sie sinniert‚ wo ihre Tochter Vera jetzt wohnt—in New York oder in Spanien? Ihr Sohn Benno wurde als Spätling im Weltkrieg geboren‚ aber sie weiß nicht in welchem (11). Gegenwärtig ist ihr jedoch ihr Besuch mit ihrem Mann während der Besatzung von Paris—1941 ist jetzt näher als die Jetzt-Zeit und der Jetzt-Raum‚ denn sie verstand nicht‚ “warum sie jetzt allein in dieser eher unbekannten Wohnung saß‚ wo die Stunden versteinerten” (12). Die Krankheitssymptome häufen sich: Sie kann keinen vollständigen Satz mehr äußern. Manchmal sagt sie etwas‚ was sie gar nicht sagen wollte. Sie verlegt ihre Brille und indet sie im Brotkasten. Sie muss Windeln tragen‚ was sie manchmal vergisst‚ und dieses Vergessen hat für sie beschämende Folgen. Sie muss zu Bet gehen‚ obwohl sie gar nicht müde ist; sie hat Schlafstörun- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 20 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 gen und kann nicht einschlafen. Zu ihrem Ritual gehört‚ das Gebiss aus dem Mund zu entnehmen: “Die Zähne‚ Tante Dahl‚ das Jebiss”‚ mahnte die Placka‚ und half‚ es aus Frau Dahls Mund zu polken. Darauhin stürzte deren Gesicht ein wie ein stolzes Gebäude. [ . . . ] Haut und Knochen alles‚ dürre Arme‚ Stangenbeine‚ nur der Bauch quoll käsig gebläht hervor. [ . . . ] “Ohne Jebiss sehn sie aus wie ‘ne Hundertjährige‚ Tante Dahl” sagte Frau Placka. (45–46) In Frau Dahl breitet sich immer mehr das Gefühl der Einsamkeit aus. Sie denkt an den Tod als eine Erlösung aus ihrer jetzigen Situation: “Abseits am Fenster‚ ohne Kafee‚ ohne Alkohol‚ angewiesen auf das Spionieren fremder Unterhaltung‚ häte Frau Dahl eigentlich nichts dagegen‚ auch tot zu sein. Natürlich lit sie an Depressionen!” (31). Dann jedoch hat sie Angst vor dem Sterben: “Es war ein Irrtum zu glauben‚ in ihrem Alter fürchtet man sich nicht mehr vor diesem Wechsel vom Sein ins Nichtsein” (31). Später zeichnet sich der Verlust des kritischen Denkens ab. Sie lässt sich Gegenstände aufschwatzen‚ die sie nicht braucht: Eine Waschmaschine‚ einen Geschirrspüler‚ ein Klavier. Ihr Sohn und ihre Tochter haben Schwierigkeiten‚ diese Auträge und Verträge zu stornieren. Um zu verhindern‚ dass sie das Haus verlässt‚ bringen sie Schlösser an der Wohnungs- und an der Gartentür an. “Es geht über meine Kräte” Die Familie‚ die Frau Dahl plegt‚ tut es aus Liebe‚ ist aber am Ende ihrer Kräte angelangt. Die Diagnose von Frau Dahl ist zuerst unbestimmt‚ denn die Mediziner wissen nicht‚ woran sie erkrankt ist. Ihre Schwiegertochter Ulrike beschwert sich bei ihrem Mann: Wir müssen endlich darüber reden‚ Benno. Dr. Haupt spricht von Entgleisung des autonomen Nervensystems‚ Rudi tippt auf die Alzheimer Krankheit. Dr. Papendick hält kleine Gehirnschläge für wahrscheinlich‚ so oder so‚ ich schaf ’ das nicht mehr. [ . . . ] Ich kann nicht mehr‚ und ich will auch nicht mehr. Es geht über meine Kräte. Deine Muter oder ich! (55) Ihre Schwiegermuter redet sie mit Sie an. Sie glaubt‚ dass sie Reinemachefrau Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 21 sei und bitet sie‚ ein Bad einzulassen‚ wenn das geschehen ist‚ will sie nicht hinein. Das Plegepersonal ist überfordert. Später fällt der Ausdruck “compassion fatigue” (134). Benno ist besorgt über die Verfassung seiner Frau‚ und er sagt zum Arzt: “Lieber Herr Doktor‚ [ . . . ] meine Frau ist am Ende” (141). Die Lösung‚ Frau Dahl in einem Heim unterzubringen‚ wird von ihrem Sohn jedoch abgelehnt: “In einem Heim kommt sie um” (127). Politik und Paziismus im Mantel der Demenz Wenn Arthur Schnitzler in seinem Schauspiel “Das Märchen” den Dichter Fedor Denner sagen lässt: “Was war‚ ist!—Das ist der tiefe Sinn des Geschehenen” (Schnitzler (1) 198)‚ so trit diese Bemerkung ebenfalls auf Frau Dahl zu‚ wenn auch durch den Krankheitsverlauf zeitlich begrenzt. In der Alzheimer-Krankheit kann sich die Person an Geschehen erinnern‚ die Jahrzehnte zurückliegen‚ aber nicht mehr an aktuelle Ereignisse. Dies gibt der Autorin die Gelegenheit‚ ihre politische und paziistische Einstellung in das Langzeitgedächtnis der Protagonistin einzubeten. Wenn es heißt: “Manchmal stieg ein Erinnerungsbrocken wie eine vereinzelte Lutblase aus dem Morast der Vergangenheit auf ” (137)‚ so ist schon der Ton gesetzt. Zu diesem Morast der Vergangenheit gehören Erinnerungsbrocken aus der Nazizeit und auch der Zeit‚ die danach kam. Es ist eine “Vergangenheit in Bildern” und diese Bilder sind in ihr‚ denn die Sprache versagt ihr (133). Diese Erinnerungsbrocken sind Teil ihrer core memory‚ KernErlebnisse‚ gespeichert in ihrem Langzeitgedächtnis. Da war die Zeit des Zweiten Weltkrieges. Kriege‚ so hörte Frau Dahl einige Oiziere sagen‚ “seien notwendig‚ denn anders als jedes Tier habe der Mensch keine natürlichen Widersacher. Eine ständig wachsende Zahl könne nur durch Kriege aufgehalten werden. Der Mensch müsse sich selbst reduzieren. So helfe sich die Natur. Diese Ansicht erschütert Frau Dahl” (12)‚ genau so‚ wie das “Organisieren” der deutschen Besatzungsoiziere und ihre SexParties in Paris. Die Kriegsmoral‚ erinnert sich Frau Dahl‚ wurde damals hochgehalten durch die Lektüre von Ernst Jünger‚ der von dem Glanz und der Erhabenheit des Krieges schrieb‚ dem männlichen Stolz‚ der Kameradschat und von leidenschatlicher Opferbereitschat in einem Krieg‚ den er schicksalshat als eine Naturerscheinung‚ als Stahlgewiter versteht. Und Frau Dahl erinnert sich an das Resultat dieser Ideologie im Zweiten Weltkrieg: “Hunger‚ Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 22 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Angst‚ Dreck‚ Läuse‚ die Guillotine‚ die Bomben‚ die Russen‚ die Nazis‚ die Amerikaner. Aber zu wem davon sprechen? Die Jugend konnte das gar nicht begreifen und wollte es auch gar nicht mehr hören” (15). Auch die Jugend der vergangenen Generation‚ oder der vergangenen Generationen‚ wollte nicht hinhören‚ wenn sie am Leben bleiben wollte. Wer hinhörte und anderer Meinung war‚ wurde hingerichtet‚ denn‚ wie Frau Dahl vernahm‚ käme es in Deutschland im Durchschnit täglich “auf rund fünfzig Hinrichtungen”(15).13 Die Autorin kritisiert nicht nur die Ansichten im Zweiten Weltkrieg‚ sondern auch die Kriege‚ die danach kommen. Als Frau Dahl den Fernseher anmacht‚ sieht sie zunächst nur weiße Kugeln. Eine Frau hat ihr gesagt‚ das sei der Krieg im Irak‚ wo es auch Soldatinnen gäbe. Eine von ihnen habe in einem Interview beschrieben‚ “was dieser Krieg für einen Riesenspaß machte‚ lots of fun! Also. Das war für Frau Dahl denn doch zuviel des Guten. Krieg war Krieg‚ aber lots of fun war er nicht” (38). Die Erinnerungen an die Judenverfolgung und ihre Misshandlung kommen zurück (148)‚ wie auch an die an ihre Flucht aus Ostpreußen‚ als sie mit Benno im Kinderwagen im Treck auf der vereisten Landstraße mitmarschierte‚ die zweimalige Vergewaltigung ihrer Tochter Vera‚ das Heulen der Sirenen‚ die für sie den Weltuntergang anzeigten‚ und das Warten im Lutschutzkeller: Wenn sich Frau Dahl an etwas erinnern konnte‚ war es an diese Machtlosigkeit‚ dieses Gefühl‚ in der Falle zu sitzen. Ein Tisch kreischendes Pfeifen‚ die Wände ziterten‚ ein ächzendes Getöse und in der folgenden Stille ein santes Rieseln‚ wenn der Kalk von der Decke iel. Die Glühbirne an ihrem Draht erlosch mit einem tückischen Blinzeln‚ ging aber wieder an. Der nächste Einschlag klang‚ wie wenn im Steinbruch gesprengt würde. Es folgte ein prasselndes Geräusch‚ als ob Wasser auf heißes Fet iele. Miten in diesem Höllenlärm gebar Elli einen Sohn. (147–148) Die Menschheit hat‚ wie Frau Dahl auf einer Party hören musste‚ nicht aus dieser Vergangenheit gelernt. Frau Dahl vernahm Ansichten wie: “Unsere Stukas! Rommel‚ der Wüstenfuchs! Häte sich nach der Schlacht bei El Alamein nicht das Weter geändert‚ wer weiß. Keine paziistischen Jammerlappen damals. Damals hate man noch. Damals konnte man noch. Damals herrschte noch. Damals wurde die Post noch pünktlich zweimal am Tag ausgetragen” (95). Frau Dahl war anderer Meinung‚ konnte jedoch nichts sagen. Frau Dahl erhält in den letzten Tagen kaum noch Besuch. Den Leuten Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 23 ist sie zu langweilig‚ denn sie spricht kaum. Ihr Sohn zeigt ihr eine Fotograie von ihrem 85. Geburtstag‚ aber sie erkennt sich nicht mehr. Ihren 88. Geburtstag soll sie alleine feiern‚ denn ihre Familie fährt auf Urlaub. Sie hört dem Gespräch über den Mauerfall “aufmerksam verständnislos” zu (114). Alleingelassen indet sie den Schlüssel zum Gartentor und begibt sich nach draußen. Diese Flucht ins Ungewisse endet auf einer Brücke. Sie schaut hinunter und sieht eine alte Frau im Wasser‚ die ihr Winken erwidert. Sie erkennt nicht ihr eigenes Spiegelbild; der Verlust ihres Selbst‚ ihrer Identität‚ ist jetzt vollzogen.14 Es ist anzunehmen‚ dass sie dem Winken des Wasserbildes folgt. Die zwei Haupthemen dieses Romans sind die Beschreibung der Alzheimer-Krankheit‚ verbunden mit der aufopfernden Plege der Familienangehörigen‚ und der Ansicht‚ dass Kriege lots of fun seien (38)‚ dass die Nazizeit eine gute alte Zeit gewesen sei. Beide hemen sind durch das lückenhate Erhalten des Langzeitgedächtnises glaubhat verbunden. Dieser Roman schildert dadurch nicht nur das Krankheitsbild einer ehemals intelligenten Frau‚ sondern auch über das individuelle Schicksal hinausgehend‚ das Krankheitsbild einer ganzen Zivilisation. * Der alte König in seinem Exil von Arno Geiger15 Der österreichische Schritsteller Arno Geiger schildert in diesem literarischen Porträt das Leben mit seinem 84-jährigen an Alzheimer-Demenz erkrankten Vater August Geiger. Arno Geigers Vater‚ ein im Ruhestand stehender ehemaliger Gemeindeschreiber‚ leidet über ein Jahrzehnt an der Alzheimer-Demenz. In der Rückschau werden die Progression der Krankheit und das Leben August Geigers beschrieben. Seine Frau hat sich nach 30 Jahren Ehe scheiden lassen. Er ist der Vater von vier Kindern‚ von denen der zweitjüngste der Autor dieses Romans ist. Zuerst hate man Schwierigkeiten‚ die richtige Diagnose zu stellen. Dann begann das seltsame‚ kakaeske Benehmen des Alten zuzunehmen. Das familienstörende Benehmen des Erkrankten wird als Racheakt ausgelegt‚ sodass der Sohn tagelang kein Wort mehr mit seinem Vater spricht. Dass er die Tiekühl-Pizza mit Verpackung in die Röhre schiebt und seine Socken in den Kühlschrank platziert‚ kann jedoch nicht mehr mit Schrulligkeit des alten Vaters erklärt werden. Geschildert wird das allmähliche Vergessen von Dingen und von Geschehnissen‚ die einen wertvollen Platz im Leben des Vaters hat- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 24 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 ten. Die vom Neurologen angefertigten Schnitbilder des Gehirns zeigen den Verlauf der Krankheit. Der Vater hat vergessen‚ wie man isst. Er hat das Stück Brot auf dem Teller‚ und der Sohn muss ihm sagen‚ dass er nur hineinbeißen soll. Die Erwiderung des Vaters ist: “Tja‚ wenn ich wüsste‚ wie das geht. Weißt du‚ ich bin ein armer Schlucker. [ . . . ] Ich bin einer‚ der nichts zu melden hat. Da ist nichts mehr zu machen. [ . . . ] Ich begreife das alles nicht! [ . . . ] Ich bin nichts mehr” (113–114). In dem letzten Stadium dieser Erkrankung ist auch das autobiograische Wissen verloren gegangen; nahestehende Personen werden nicht mehr erkannt. Nachdem der Grund seines veränderten Benehmens erkannt worden war‚ änderten sich die Beziehungen zu dem alten Mann: “Wir ließen den Dingen ihren Lauf ” (21). Es ist aber kein passives Gewährenlassen‚ sondern eine aktive Hilfestellung‚ um dem Vater zu helfen: “Da mein Vater nicht mehr über die Brücke in meine Welt gelangen kann‚ muss ich hinüber zu ihm” (11). Diese Welt hat jedoch andere Gesetze als unsere‚ die auf Raum und Zeit‚ auf Zweckmäßigkeit und vernüntiges Handeln und auf Logik aufgebaut ist. Die Wirklichkeit des Kranken ist nicht die Wirklichkeit der Gesunden. Um ihm zu helfen‚ stellen sich seine Betreuer auf das individuelle Weltbild des Kranken ein: “So schlugen wir einen Weg ein‚ der von der nüchternen Wirklichkeit weg führte und über Umwege zur Wirklichkeit zurückkehrte. [ . . . ] Und wenn er sich nach seiner Muter erkundigte‚ tat ich‚ als glaubte ich ebenfalls‚ dass sie noch lebte‚ und versicherte ihm‚ sie wisse über alles Bescheid und passe auf ihn auf. Das freute ihn” (118). Die gesamte Familie kümmert sich jetzt um ihn‚ sogar seine geschiedene Frau. Sie tut es bis zu der Zeit‚ als er ins Heim überwiesen wird. Einmal ist er zum Ausgehen angezogen‚ setzt sich den Hut auf und fragt dann‚ wo sein Gehirn sei. Die Antwort ist: “ Dein Gehirn ist unter dem Hut . . . Ja‚ es ist dort‚ wo es hingehört”(130). Der Vater nickt zustimmend und geht mit ihnen. Eine besonders glückliche Hand in der Plege hate Daniela‚ die aus der Slowakei kam und fast drei Jahre bei dem Vater blieb. Sie war entspannt und vermitelte ihm das Gefühl der Wichtigkeit: “Sie gab ihm den Einkaufskorb zu tragen‚ ließ ihn ihr Fahrrad schieben‚ und er hate ihr Deutsch beigebracht‚ sie stundenlang in Aussprache und Grammatik unterwiesen‚ während er gleichzeitig nicht die Namen seiner vier Kinder häte nennen können” (133). Als er sagte‚ er wolle nach Hause gehen‚ erwiderte sie: “August‚ ich bleibe nicht alleine hier! Was mache ich ohne dich? Wenn du gehst‚ dann gehe ich auch. Aber ich muss noch bügeln” (119). Er blieb. Häte sie gesagt‚ du musst hierbleiben‚ das geht nicht‚ häte er sich geweigert. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 25 August Geiger hat Schwierigkeiten‚ die Umwelt zu verstehen; auf ihn trefen die Schlussworte Meister Antons aus dem bürgerlichen Trauerspiel Maria Magdalene von Friedrich Hebbel zu: “Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr!” August Geiger fühlt sich in der Welt der Gegenwart verunsichert. Er will wie homas Liebherr‚ wie der alte Oberlehrer aus Lauterbach‚ Margit Schreiners Vater‚ und Frau Dahl nach Hause. Der Wunsch‚ nach Hause zu gehen‚ zieht sich wie ein roter Faden durch diesen Roman. Alle an Alzheimer Erkrankten fühlen sich verunsichert in ihrer Umgebung‚ in einer Welt‚ die sich für sie radikal verändert hat: “Als Heilmitel gegen ein erschreckendes‚ nicht zu enträtselndes Leben hate er einen Ort bezeichnet‚ an dem Geborgenheit möglich sein würde‚ wenn er ihn erreichte. Diesen Ort des Trostes nannte der Vater Zuhause‚ der Gläubige nennt ihn Himmelreich” (56). Die Suche nach dem verloren gegangenen Paradies erinnert an die Bemerkung von Marcel Proust‚ die ebenfalls von Arno Geiger zitiert wird‚ dass “die wahren Paradiese die sind‚ die man verloren hat” (13–14). Nicht nur August Geiger‚ sondern alle an Alzheimer-Demenz Erkrankten‚ haben das Gefühl‚ in einem Exil zu leben. Sie stehen immer draußen vor der Tür. Der Sohn indet jetzt die Liebe zu seinem Vater wieder‚ dessen Witz‚ Charme‚ Lebensweisheit und Humor er bewundert. So z. B.: “Du und ich‚ wir werden uns das Leben gegenseitig so angenehm wie möglich machen‚ und wenn uns das nicht gelingt‚ wird eben einer von uns das Nachsehen haben” (102)‚ oder: “Ein guter Stolperer fällt nicht” (101). Das rechte Wort fehlt dem Vater manchmal‚ und dann sagt er: “Ich weiβ nicht‚ wie ich es taufen soll” (101). Der Sohn ist eng mit dem Vater verbunden: “Es ist eine seltsame Konstellation. Was ich ihm gebe‚ kann er nicht festhalten. Was er mir gibt‚ halte ich mit aller Krat fest” (178). Die Alzheimer-Demenz kappt nicht nur Verbindungen‚ sondern knüpt sie auch. Der Vater zeigt seine Verbundenheit mit dem Sohn‚ wenn er augenzwinkernd sagt: “Du bist mein bester Freund!”(117). Das Fazit des Sohnes ist: “Es ist ofenkundig‚ dass er tiefe Spuren hinterlässt” (186). Hier bewahrheitet sich die Ansicht von Katja himm‚ die in ihrem Erfahrungsbericht im Spiegel schreibt: Wenn Eltern alt und hillos werden‚ vertauschen sich die Rollen: Die erwachsenen Kinder übernehmen Verantwortung und trefen Entscheidungen für das Leben von Muter und Vater. Die Generationen lernen einander neu kennen. (himm 132) Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 26 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Schlussbemerkungen Es gibt einige Punkte‚ die sich aus der Analyse dieser Werke ergeben: 1. Die Autoren zeigen uns‚ wie schwierig es ist‚ in der Frühphase die richtige Diagnose der Alzheimer-Demenz zu stellen. Gedächtnis- und Sprachstörungen sowie Orientierungsschwierigkeiten können als normale Alterserscheinungen angesehen werden. Die behandelten Romane zeigen uns die Merkmale der Krankheit. Die meisten der an Alzheimer-Erkrankten wollen im eigenen‚ vertrauten Lebensraum oder bei der Familie wohnen‚ an einem Ort‚ der für sie Sicherheit und Geborgenheit bedeutet. Sie fühlen sich als “unbehauste Menschen‚” die entwurzelt sind in einer Zeit‚ die für sie Chaos ist. Die in ihrem Langzeitgedächtnis enthaltenen Bilder von Dingen und Erlebnissen sind ihnen vertrauter als die jetzige Realität. Dazu gehören auch Familienmitglieder‚ die den Erkrankten jetzt fremd vorkommen. 2. Das Gemeinsame in allen diesen von Alzheimer-Demenz Betrofenen ist‚ dass sie einen Kampf ausfechten‚ nicht‚ um Neues zu erringen‚ sondern die Erinnerung an die Vergangenheit‚ um ihre Erlebnisse‚ ihr Selbstbild‚ ihre Identität wieder zu haben‚ oder wie es bei Arno Geiger heißt: “Lautlos focht der Vater den Kampf mit sich selber aus” (24). Dieser Kampf ist bis heute aussichtslos‚ und die Erinnerung an alles geht verloren. “Erinnerung ist das Seil‚” sagt Marcel Proust in seinem Roman Auf der Suche nach der verlorenen Zeit‚ “heruntergelassen vom Himmel‚ das mich herauszieht aus dem Abgrund des Nicht-Seins.”16 Vorbei ist die Zeit‚ in der Jean Paul noch sagen konnte: “Die Erinnerung ist ein Paradies‚ aus dem wir nicht vertrieben werden können.”17 3. Aber die Krankheit des Vergessens hat auch positive Eigenschaten. Wenn sich das rechte Wort nicht einstellt‚ so greit man kreativ auf andere Wörter zurück‚ die einem noch geläuig sind. Trotz der AlzheimerErkrankung kann auch‚ wie uns die hier angeführten Werke zeigen‚ der eigentliche Kern der Existenz‚ die core memory‚ bis zu einem gewissen Zeitpunkt erhalten bleiben. homas Liebherr kehrt zu seiner Frau zurück‚ die er trotz jahrelangen Aufenthalts im Plegeheim immer noch liebt‚ und von der er Abschied nehmen will‚ bevor alle seiner Erinnerungen vollkommen ausgelöscht sind. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 27 4. Die Plege der an Alzheimer-Demenz Erkrankten fällt zumeist den Familienangehörigen zu. Wichtig ist‚ dass die Familie zusammenhält und die Arbeit auteilt. Für Adalbert Stiter ist es die Generationenkete‚ die die Generationen miteinander verbindet. Dieses “Sante Gesetz” inden wir besonders bei Margit Schreiner‚ Leonore Suhl und Arno Geiger. Bei Fritz Habeck fehlt diese Liebe bei der Tochter‚ aber dieses Vakuum wird durch die Leserschat erkannt und in ihrem Inneren ergänzt. 5. Alle hier behandelten Werke zeigen die Reaktion der Plegepersonen auf die Schwierigkeit der Plege. Die Familie‚ die einen Erkrankten rund um die Uhr betreut‚ gerät dadurch an den Rand der Belastungsfähigkeit. Angedeutet wird dies bei Felix Miterer‚ als die Frau ihren Mann in das Plegeheim hat überweisen lassen‚ da die physische und psychische Belastung für sie zu viel war. Bei Fritz Habeck war es die Tochter‚ die sich der Aufgabe der Heimbetreuung entzogen hat‚ weil ihr Vater für sie eine zu große Belastung war. In Margit Schreiners Roman überschreitet die Plege die Belastbarkeit der Frau‚ die den Arzt um die Überweisung ihres Mannes in eine Plegestation mit den Worten bitet: “Ich kann nicht mehr.” In Leonore Suhls Roman bekundet der Sohn der Erkrankten: “[M]eine Frau ist am Ende‚” weigert sich aber‚ seine Muter in ein Plegeheim zu geben‚ denn: “In einem Heim kommt sie um.” In Arno Geigers Roman plegen die Familie und die angestellten Betreuungspersonen den Vater‚ solange es geht‚ indem sie versuchen‚ sich auf seine Welt einzustellen. Der Vater wird schließlich in ein Plegeheim überwiesen‚ nicht‚ weil er die Welt nicht mehr versteht‚ sondern weil die Welt ihn trotz allen Bemühens nicht mehr verstehen kann. 6. Für Arno Geiger ist die Alzheimer-Demenz die Krankheit unseres Jahrhunderts. In einem Spiegel-Interview fügte er hinzu‚ “[d]ass diese Flut an Informationen und an Wissen nicht mehr überschaubar ist. Unübersichtlichkeit ist‚ wenn man so will‚ der Preis der Moderne. Der Überblick ist verloren gegangen [ . . . ]” (Hammelehle). 7. Wie im ersten Teil dieses Essays erwähnt worden ist‚ schrumpt die Bevölkerung Deutschlands und Österreichs. Die Geburtenzahl ist eher rückläuig‚ aber die Seniorinnen und Senioren leben länger‚ und damit steigt die Zahl der an Alzheimer-Erkrankten. Ulrike Heidenreich schreibt in ihrem Kommentar in der Süddeutschen Zeitung vom 22. März 2015: Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 28 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 8. Die Zukuntsprognose der Alzheimergesellschat ist einprägsam: Gegenwärtig leben in Deutschland etwa 1‚5 Millionen Demenzkranke. Jahr für Jahr treten mehr als 300.000 Neuerkrankungen auf. Sofern kein Durchbruch in der medizinischen herapie gelingt‚ werden im Jahr 2050 etwa drei Millionen Menschen mit Demenz in Deutschland leben. (Heidenreich) In den 90er+ Jahren wird das hema Alzheimer häuig in den Massenmedien angeführt‚ u. a. in den Tageszeitungen und auch in Filmen. Dies macht somit das Tabu-hema bekannter und hat somit einen größeren Einluss auf den öfentlichen Diskurs als die Veröfentlichungen in den medizinischen Zeitschriten. In der Belletristik wird die AlzheimerDemenz in Schauspielen‚ Erfahrungsberichten‚ Tagebüchern‚ Gedichten und Erzählungen behandelt. Dies hilt uns‚ die “Krankheit des Vergessens” und die Erkrankten in ihrer “abhandengekommenen Welt”18 besser zu verstehen. Gerd K. Schneider is professor emeritus of German at Syracuse University in New York (1966–2005). He has also taught at the NDEA Institutes of Southern Illinois University and at Princeton University and was visiting professor and language coordinator at the Deutsche Schule of Middlebury College (1973–1989). He served on the Executive Commitees of the MLA‚ AATG, and NYSAFLT‚ and was ield reader for the US Department of Education. His awards include Best Teaching Award at the undergraduate level from Syracuse‚ the Ruth E. Wasley Distinguished Teacher Award on the Post-Secondary Level from NYSAFLT‚ and the Certiicate of Merit from the Goethe House. His research interests include German and Austrian literature and culture from the in-de-siècle to the present. He has published seven books and over sixty articles in journals and encyclopedias. he English translation of his autobiography‚ hings Could’ve Been a Lot Worse: he Experiences of a German-American Bellybuton Jew of Berlin Origins‚ was published by the Hadassa World Press in 2016. Notes 1. Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung (Hrsg.). Demenz-Report. Wie sich die Regionen in Deutschland‚ Österreich und der Schweiz auf die Alterung der Gesellschat vorbereiten Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr | 29 2011‚ S. 4. Weitere Angaben zu dieser Veröfentlichung sind im Text unter der Chifre D-R angeführt. 2. Kurt Vogler-Ludwig; Nicola Düll; Ben Kriechel (Hrsg. unter Mitarbeit von Catrin Mohr; Tim Veter). Arbeitsmarkt 2030. Eine strategische Vorausschau auf die Entwicklung von Angebot und Nachrage in Deutschland auf Basis eines Rechenmodells. Im Autrag des Bundesministeriums für Arbeit und Soziales (München‚ Oktober 2013)‚ S. 7. Weitere Angaben zu dieser Studie sind in Klammern mit der Chifre KV-L hinter die Angabe gesetzt. 3. Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung (Hrsg.). Neue Potenziale. Zur Lage der Integration in Deutschland 2014‚ S. 10. 4. Statistische Ämter des Bundes und der Länder (Hrsg.). Demographischer Wandel in Deutschland. Het 1: Bevölkerung und Haushaltsentwicklung im Bund und in den Ländern‚ Ausgabe 2011 (Wiesbaden: Statistisches Bundesamt‚ 2011)‚ S. 24. 5. Bad Ischler Dialog 2011. Auswirkungen der demographischen Entwicklung auf Arbeitsmarkt und soziale Systeme. Positionen der österreichischen Sozialpartner. S. 1. Weitere Angaben zu dieser Ausgabe werden im Text unter der Chifre Bad Ischl gekennzeichnet. 6. Die vier Werke sind: homas DeBaggio’s Losing My Mind: An Intimate Look at Life with Alzheimer’s (New York: Free Press‚ 2002); Jonathan Franzen’s “My Father’s Brain.” In: How To Be Alone (London: Fourth Estate‚ 2002)‚ S. 7–38; Arno Geiger’s Der alte König in seinem Exil (München: Hanser‚ 2011); J. Bernlef [Pseud. van Hendrik Jan Marsman] Out of Mind. Übersetzt von Adrienne Dixon (Boston: David R. Godine‚ 1988 [1984]). Out of Mind erschien 1989 im Piper Verlag auf Deutsch unter dem Titel Hirngespinste Csollány. 7. Für weitere Beispiele siehe Gerd K. Schneider‚ Die Faceten des Alter(n)s. Annotierte Interdisziplinäre Bibliograie zur modernen Gerontologie im deutschen Sprachraum: Sachtexte und Belletristik. Mit Textauszügen (Wien: Praesens Verlag‚ 2010)‚ S. 444–570. 8. Felix Miterer‚ Der Panther. heaterstück. Autragswerk für das heater in der Josefstadt‚ Wien (Innsbruck: Haymon Verlag‚ 2008). Weitere Angaben zu dieser Ausgabe sind im Text vermerkt. Zur Interpretation dieses Stückes siehe auch Gerd K. Schneider‚ “Aterword.” In: Felix Miterer‚ In the Lion’s Den and he Panther‚ übersetzt von Patrick Drysdale; Mike Lyons; Victoria Martin; Dennis McCort Riverside: Ariadne Press‚ 2011)‚ S. 195–209. 9. Siehe dazu Gerd K. Schneider‚ “Timely Meditations or Not Yet! Social Criticism in Felix Miterer’s Sibiria.” In: Nicholas J. Meyerhofer; Karl E. Webb (eds.). Felix Miterer: A Critical Introduction (Riverside: Ariadne Press‚ 1995)‚ S. 195–205. 10. Fritz Habeck‚ “Dezemberabend.” In: Andreas Weber(Hrsg.). F.H.‚ Gedanken in der Nacht. Erzählungen (1948–1958) (Freistadt: Plöchl‚ o.J.). S. 133–142. Weitere Angaben zu dieser Ausgabe sind in Klammern hinter das Zitat gesetzt. 11. Margit Schreiner‚ Nackte Väter (Zürich: Hafmans Verlag‚ 1997). Weitere Angaben zu dieser Ausgabe sind in Klammern hinter das Zitat gesetzt. 12. Leonore Suhl‚ Frau Dahls Flucht ins Ungewisse (Düsseldorf: Marion von Schröder Verlag‚ 1996). Weitere Angaben zu dieser Ausgabe sind in Klammern hinter das Zitat gesetzt. 13. Felix Kellerhof‚ “Zweiter Weltkrieg. Fahnenlucht und Selbstmord—Exit aus dem Krieg.” Die Welt vom 21.03.13. Kellerhof schreibt: “Bis Ende 1944 führte die Wehrmachtsjustiz insgesamt rund 626.000 Verfahren‚ von denen geschätzt ein Viertel Vorwürfe wie Fahnenlucht‚ ‘Wehrkratzersetzung’ etwa durch Selbstverstümmelung und ähnliches betraf. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 30 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Gegen mindestens 30.000 deutsche Soldaten verhängten Militärrichter die Todesstrafe‚ und etwa 23.000 derartige Urteile wurden auch vollstreckt.” 14. Siehe dazu auch Seidler S. 57. 15. Arno Geiger‚ Der alte König in seinem Exil (München: Carl Hanser Verlag‚ 2011). Weitere Angaben zu diesem Text sind in Klammern hinter das Zitat gesetzt. 16. Zitiert bei M. Jürgs in “Begleiten ins Vergessen” als Moto für die Alzheimer-Krankheit. 17. Den Hinweis auf dieses Zitat verdanke ich Georg Büchmann‚ Gelügelte Worte (Berlin: Haude & Spenersche Verlagsbuchhandlung‚ 1961)‚ S. 269. 18. Der Titel des Films von Margarethe von Trota ist “Die abhandene Welt” (2015); er zeigt u. a. das Leben einer dementen Frau in einem Heim. Der Titel geht auf ein Gedicht von Friedrich Rückert zurück: “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen‚” als Klagelied von Gustav Mahler vertont. Ein anderer tragikomischer Film‚ Honig im Kopf (2014)‚ zeigte die Liebe der eljährigen Enkelin zu ihrem an Alzheimer erkrankten Großvater‚ einem ehemaligen Tierarzt‚ mit dem sie eine Reise nach Venedig unternimmt. Zitierte Werke Bad Ischler Dialog 2011. Auswirkungen der Demographischen Entwicklung auf den Arbeitsmarkt und soziale Systeme. Positionen der österreichischen Sozialpartner. Sozialpartner.at/wp -content/uploads/2015/08/2011-07Studie-konsolodiertEndg.pdf. Web. Behl‚ Christian. “Hauptrisiko ist das Alter. Was die Wissenschat über Ursachen der Alzheimer-Krankheit weiß und auf welche herapien für die Zukunt hot” (Hrsg. Michael Jürgs). Alzheimer Spurensuche im Niemandsland. München: C. Bertelsmann Verlag‚ 2006. S. 9–16. Druck. Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung (Hrsg.). Neue Potenziale. Zur Lage der Integration in Deutschland. Autoren: Franziska Woeltert; Reiner Klingholz. Berlin: Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung‚ 2014. Druck. Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung (Hrsg.). Demenz-Report. Wie sich die Regionen in Deutschland‚ Österreich und der Schweiz auf die Alterung der Gesellschat vorbereiten. Autoren: Sabine Süterlin; Iris Hoβmann; Reiner Klingholz. Berlin: Berlin-Institut für Bevölkerung und Entwicklung‚ 2011. Druck. Borchert‚ Wolfgang. “Draußen vor der Tür”. In: W. B. Das Gesamtwerk. Hamburg: Rowohlt Verlag‚ 1950. S. 99–165. Druck. Brandt‚ Andrea. “‘Du stinkst ja schon wieder’. Gespräch mit dem Bonner Psychiater und Psychotherapeuten Rolf Dieter Hirsch über Gewalt gegen Demenzkranke”. Spiegel Wissen 1/2010 vom 23.02.10. Web. www/spiegel.de/spiegel/spiegelwissen/d-69123048 .html. Emmrich‚ Julia. “39.000 lassen ihren Job ruhen‚ um zu plegen”. Berliner Morgenpost vom 7. Juli 2016‚ hema 3. Siehe dazu auch “Das Jahrzehnt der Plege.” Leitartikel der Berliner Morgenpost vom 7. Juli 2016‚ S. 2. Druck. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schneider: Ich verstehe die Welt nicht mehr Fritz‚ Victor. “Leerer Spiegel”. Hrsg. Felix Miterer. Texte Aus der Innenwelt. Wien: Czernin Verlag‚ 2001. Druck. Gajevic‚ Mira. “Plege ist weiblich”. Frankfurter Rundschau vom 4. Dezember 2012. Web. www.fr.online.de/politik/plege-von-angehoerigen-plege-ist-weiblich. Geiger‚ Arno. Der alte König in seinem Exil. München: Carl Hanser Verlag‚ 2011. Druck. Habeck‚ Fritz. “Dezemberabend”. Hrsg. Andreas Weber. F. H. Gedanken in der Nacht. Erzählungen 1948–1958. Freistadt: Plöchl Verlag‚ o.J. S. 133–42. Druck. Hammerlehle‚ Sebastian; Hans-Jost Weyandt (Interviewer). “Best-Selling Autor Arno Geiger: ‘Das Ende des Lebens ist auch Leben’”. Spiegel-OnLine Kultur vom 03.04.2011. Web. www/spiegel.de/kultur/literatur/bestseller-autor-arno-geiger-das-ende-des -lebens. Heidenreich‚ Ulrike. “Demenz als Behinderung. Barrierefreiheit im Kopf ”. Süddeutsche Zeitung vom 22. März 2015. Web. www.sueddeutsche.de/gesundheit/demenz-als -behinderung-barrierenfr. Jürgs‚ Michael. “Alzheimer. Begleiten ins Vergessen”. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung vom 07.09.2014. Web. www.faz.net/Vergessen-1174258. Jürgs‚ Michael. Alzheimer. Spurensuche im Niemandsland. Mit einem aktuellen Vorwort von Prof. Christian Behl. München: C. Bertelsmann Verlag‚ 2006. S. 9–16. Druck. Kellerhof‚ Felix. “Zweiter Weltkrieg. Fahnenlucht und Selbstmord—Exit aus dem Krieg”. Die Welt vom 21.03.13. Web. www.welt.de/geschichte/zweiter-weltkrieg /article114626530/Fahnenlucht-und-Selbstmord-Exit-aus-dem-Krieg.html. Web. Krüger-Fürhof‚ Irmela Marei. “Narrating the limits of narration. Alzheimer’s disease in contemporary literary texts”. In: Swinnen‚ Aagje; Mark Schwenda (Hrsg.). Popularizing dementia: public expressions and representations of forgetfulness. Bielefeld: transcript‚ 2015. S. 89–108. Druck. Lenz‚ Siegfried. “Die Darstellung des Alters in der Literatur”. In: S. L.: Über den Schmerz. Essays. Hamburg: Hofmann und Campe‚ 1998. S. 73–95. Druck. Miterer‚ Felix. Der Panther. heaterstück. Autragswerk für das heater in der Josefstadt. Innsbruck: Hayman Verlag‚ 2008. Druck. ORF. “Düstere Prognose für Österreich-news.at.” Web. www.orf.at/stories/2148630 /2138023. Peters‚ Freia. “So viele Migranten in Deutschland wie noch nie.” Die Welt vom 17. Dezember 2013. Web. www.welt.de/politik/deutschland/article/123029623/So-viele -Migranten. Polisar‚ Donna; homas Cole. Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going? An Annotated Bibliography of Aging and the Humanities. Washington‚ DC: Gerontological Society of America‚ Galveston‚ Texas; Moody Medical Library and Institute for he Medical Humanities‚ he University of Texas Medical Branch‚ 1988. Druck. Richter‚ Jean Paul. In Georg Büchmann. Gelügelte Worte. Berlin: Haude & Spenersche Verlagsbuchhandlung‚ 1961. S. 269. Druck. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association | 31 32 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Rilke‚ Rainer Maria. “Schluβstück”. In: Hrsg. Karl Oto Conrady. Das Groβe Deutsche Gedichtbuch. Kronberg/Ts.: Athenäum Verlag‚ 1977. S. 640. Druck. Rosenmayr‚ Leopold. “Der bitere Kern”. Die Presse vom 11. Oktober 2003. Zeichen der Zeit: IV. Druck. Schneider‚ Gerd K. “Timely Meditations or Not Yet! Social Criticism in Felix Miterer’s Sibiria.” In: Hrsg. Nicholas J. Meyerhofer; Karl E. Webb. Felix Miterer: A Critical Introduction. Riverside: Ariadne Press‚ 1995: S. 195–205. Druck. Schneider, Gerd K. Die Faceten des Alter(n)s. Annotated Interdisziplinäre Bibliograie zur modernen Gerontologie im deutschen Sprachraum: Sachtexte und Belletristik. Mit Textauszügen. Wien: Praesens Verlag‚ 2010. Druck. Schnitzler‚ Arthur (1). “Das Märchen”. Gesammelte Werke. Die dramatischen Werke. Band 1. Frankfurt a.M.: S. Fischer Verlag‚ 1962. S. 125–200. Druck. Schnitzler‚ Arthur (2). “Der Schleier der Beatrice”. Gesammelte Werke. Die dramatischen Werke. Band 1. Frankfurt a.M.: S. Fischer Verlag‚ 1962. S. 553–679. Druck. Schreiner‚ Margit. Nackte Väter. Zürich: Hafmans Verlag‚ 1997. Druck. Schultze‚ Caroline. “Welt ohne Worte. Alzheimer”. Der Spiegel Nr.1/2001/:161–63. Druck. Shakespeare‚ William. “König Lear”. Sämtliche Werke in 14 Teilen. Übersetzt von Schlegel und Tieck. Herausgegeben von Wolfgang Keller. Teil 7. Berlin-Leipzig-WienStutgart: Deutsches Verlagshaus Bong & Co.‚ [1927]. S. 103–205. Druck. Seidler‚ Miriam. Figurenmodelle des Alters in der Deutschsprachigen Gegenwartsliteratur. Tübingen: Narr‚ 2010. Druck. Siems‚ Dorothea. “Adieu Deutschland—Zahl der Fortzüge auf Rekordniveau”. Die Welt vom 19. Februar 2015. Web. www/welt.de/politik/deutschland/article137642128 /Adieu-Deutschland-Zahl-der. Statistische Ämter des Bundes und der Länder (Hrsg.). Demographischer Wandel in Deutschland. Het 1: Bevölkerung-und Haushaltsentwicklung im Bund und in den Ländern‚ Ausgabe 2011. Wiesbaden: Statistisches Bundesamt‚ 2011. Web. www.destatis.de/DE /Publikationen/hematisch/Bevoelkerung/Demograisch. Suhl‚ Leonore. Frau Dahls Flucht ins Ungewisse. Düsseldorf: Marion von Schröder Verlag‚ 1996. Druck. himm‚ Katja. “Vaters Zeit”. Der Spiegel. Nr. 15/11.4.2011: S. 132–140. Druck. Vogler-Ludwig‚ Kurt; Nicola Düll; Ben Kriechel (Hrsg. unter Mitarbeit von Catrin Mohr; Tim Veter). Arbeitsmarkt 2030. Eine strategische Vorausschau auf die Entwicklung von Angebot und Nachrage in Deutschland auf Basis eines Rechenmodells. Im Autrag des Bundesministeriums für Arbeit und Soziales. München‚ Oktober 2013. Druck. Vogler-Ludwig‚ Kurt; Nicola Düll; Ben Kriechel. Arbeitsmarkt 2030—Die Bedeutung der Zuwanderung für Beschätigung und Wachstum. Prognose 2014. Bielefeld: Bertelsmann Verlag‚ 2015. Druck. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association The Anschluss as Film Noir Reading Leo Perutz’s Novel Fragment Mainacht in Wien as Cinematic Text Robert Dassanowsky Fictional texts dealing with the Austrian Anschluss writen as it was occurring or within the space of the irst years of its occurrence are extremely rare. Joseph Roth’s Die Kapuzinergrut (1938) only hints at the coming catastrophe; Friedrich Torberg’s Auch das war Wien was writen during his early exile and published posthumously in 1984; the almost unknown novel by Rudolf Frank of Germans in exile in Vienna ultimately facing annexation, Fair Play, oder Es kommt nicht zum Krieg: Roman einer Emigration in Wien, was based on the author’s experiences and writen in his second exile in Zürich in 1938 but was not published until sixty years later. Perhaps the most intriguing atempt at ictionalizing the immediate atmosphere of Nazi Vienna, Leo Perutz’s Mainacht in Wien, is a novel fragment of three chapters writen in 1938 and abandoned when the author and his family managed to secure exile in Palestine. he uninished novel is a unique work for Perutz in other ways. he author is mostly known for intricately detailed historical novels.1 His novel, Die drite Kugel (1915), and novella, St. Petri-Schnee (1933), the later of which inluenced Der Baron Bagge (1936), Alexander Lernet-Holenia’s novella on war, memory and an alternate dream life, and these two works are now considered the origin of Austrian literary magical realism (Lüth). Common to both is an isolated “verschwommener Schauplatz” and the passivity of the central character, who remains an observer in both reality and dream worlds (Dassanowsky, Phantom Empires 62–63). Despite the time of its origin, Mainacht in Wien avoids direct political commentary and conveys a disaster in its visual literary style that approximaJOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 34 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 tes cinematic language, as we shall trace here. he work can be said to feature mise-en-scène, repetition of visual motifs, and a frame story (at least for the three existing chapters) with successful and detailed lashback sequences. But most of all, it made use of characters writen in the tradition of cinematic types that were not only inluenced by the Austrian ilm of the 1920s and 1930s but also call to mind actual performers who would be cast as Perutz’s characters in the novel-as-ilm. Even with only three chapters writen, the crossover into the two ilm genres—the Viennese ilm and the nascent Hollywood noir thriller—shows that for Perutz, Nazism was to become part of the palimpsest of Vienna. Tracing Perutz’s atempted transformation into a writer of ilm scenarios will allow us a glimpse into the politics and logistics of ilm production on the eve of Europe’s Nazi cataclysm. Perutz between Vienna and Hollywood Working on his novel Der schwedischer Reiter in 1933 and in dire inancial straits resulting from the expense of a second marriage and the ban of his work in Germany, Perutz began coauthoring boulevard plays with Hans Adler and Paul Frank. hese plays were inancially successful but did not lead to a continued relationship. An unexpected interest in bringing Perutz’s 1928 novel Der Kossak und die Nachtigall (writen with Paul Frank) to the Austrian screen in 1934 as a vehicle for opera star Jarmila Novotna resulted in payment for ilm rights and gave Perutz the idea of a following a new, possibly more lucrative career direction—writing for ilm (Müller, Biographie 262). his option may not have been immediately evident at the time. Austria’s cinema under Austrofascism in the 1930s was divided into two camps following the Aryanization laws in Germany, its most signiicant market. he irst was mainstream production featuring signiicant Austrian and German stars working for major companies that would have to prove that its cast and crew consisted of “Aryans,” which would allow the ilm to be imported and marketed in Germany. his was not the case for either Hungarian or Italian ilm, and so the legislation was obviously meant to add pressure to the fragile Austrian economy and iniltrate its ilm industry in a move toward its ultimate annexation. At irst, any migrant or Austrian Jewish talent that remained to work on the Aryanized ilm projects bound for German release would have to do so under assumed names or without credit—as in the case of Max Ophüls’s pro- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 35 duction of Arthur Schnitzler’s Liebelei (Germany 1933), which was allowed release in the new National Socialist state to avoid losses for the German production investment but with no credit for the ilm’s director. he other industry for Austrian ilm has become known as the independent or Emigrantenilm. his sector featured German Jewish and anti-Nazi exile talent that had chosen Vienna instead of Hollywood upon Hitler’s rise in 1933, alongside Austrian Jewish talent and a mix of performers from Hungary and Czechoslovakia. he later comprised the coproduction venues for this transnational Austrian ilm, which was popular in Austria and exported throughout Europe and beyond but was forbidden in Germany. Neither industry, however, was completely deined by that German audience. One of Austria’s highly regarded productions of the era was Nur ein Komödiant/Only a Comedian (Austria 1935), a period melodrama with satirical aspects set in the eighteenth century that atacked the capricious and corrupt politics of absolute monarchy and court intrigue. he ilm was made as an Aryanized production and was thus curiously welcomed for German distribution, even though it clearly atacked a veiled representation of fascistic tyranny. What “saved” it for the German market was that it could also be interpreted as a narrative that celebrated the heroic qualities of the German Volk against aristocratic self-interest. In this space between two parts of the Austrian ilm industry, Perutz entered the picture, with experience that he clearly hoped would pay of. Directed by the oten politically critical Weimar German director Erich Engel, who was not welcome in the Nazi ilm industry in Berlin, Nur ein Komödiant had a script that was credited to Wolfgang von Herter, but it had been in fact written by Josef han with assistance from Perutz (Müller, Biographie 262). Perutz was also buoyed from his near-continuous depression during this period by payment in dollars for the American rights to his 1930 play Die Reise nach Preßburg from an Austrian actor in Hollywood, Josef Schildkraut, who also suggested that the Pertuz-Adler play Morgen ist Feiertag might be bought for a Hollywood production. his gave Perutz brief hope for a Hollywood writing career, but Schildkraut’s direction of Die Reise nach Preßburg was unsuccessful, and a ilm version of Feiertag was shelved (Müller, Biographie 263). his was not Perutz’s irst experience with a promising Hollywood connection. hat had come over a decade earlier, with his irst great success in writing, the novel Zwischen neun und neun, published in 1918, which is a text that in no way predicted the narrative complexity and period setings of his la- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 36 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 ter novels. It was wholly contemporary in inspiration and so suggested to the ilm establishment his ability to write contemporary thriller scenarios that might ind their way onto the screens of the era. Retitled Freiheit for its serialization in Vienna, Berlin, and Prague and translated into eight languages, this atmospheric chase scenario was built around the irst of his antiheroes, Stanislaus Demba, a pessimistic petit-bourgeois man of unstable qualities and a strong survivor instinct in a world that is becoming increasingly irrational. Just as he inds the courage to break from convention and openly confess his love to an oice employee, Sonja, who has no feelings for him, he inds himself in handcufs, wrongly under arrest for thievery and suspected of being a hashish addict. he novel follows his escape from the police and his subsequent dark misadventures to free himself from his shackles and to atain the near-impossible goal of locating the money he needs to escape the city with Sonja. he pessimistic ending reveals that the chase and Dumba’s hope, in a world of corruption and illusion, could only be a fantasy. he novel was so popular that a stage adaptation found success, which prompted MGM in Hollywood to purchase the ilm rights for a silent production in 1922, with a contract that was later renewed for sound. Although the ilm was never made, MGM refused to release the rights to this property and apparently still holds them today. Alfred Hitchcock’s admiration of the novel also had a lasting efect on the ilmmaker (Müller, “Nachwort” 215). Perutz’s text apparently provided Hitchcock with an idea that became one of the director’s strongest tropes: an everyman thrown into a crisis beyond his understanding or control, which leads to his self-discovery and determination in survival. he novel’s image of an untraditional and self-aware female character also helped Hitchcock meld the femme fatale and femme ragile of the turn of the century into a more human female construction in early British cinema. Freiheit most potently inluenced Hitchcock’s 1927 silent ilm he Lodger: A Story of the London Fog (UK), based on a novel and play by Marie Belloc Lowndes about a man wrongly accused of murder. he chase aspect involving the police tracing the escaping victim/hero in handcufs across an unfriendly urban landscape in an almost hopeless atempt to free himself was pure Perutz, rather than its ostensible source. he trope also appears in his irst breakthrough and more mature sound ilm, he 39 Steps from 1935. Moreover, British screenwriter and producer Eric Ambler claims to have been so taken by Perutz’s Freiheit that he wrote an early one-act play mirroring much Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 37 of Perutz’s story (Müller, “Nachwort” 215). As Perutz’s biographer Hans Harald Müller posits, the collision of dream or illusion and a careless world are to be found throughout the author’s oeuvre. he particular theme that man does not necessarily grow wise due to a near-death experience is a strong theme in literature beginning at the end of the nineteenth century, ranging from Dostoyevsky’s he Idiot to Schnitzler’s Leutnant Gustl (Müller, “Nachwort” 218). his receives a most poignant allegorical application in the author’s relection of a postimperial Austria so politically and philosophically at odds with the near-death of its culture and identity in Freiheit as well. he seemingly non-threatening urban landscape in Freiheit, which reveals itself to be a sinister, faceless mineield of shadowy personalities and illusory hope, is an early synthesis of the Kakaesque with Expressionism and the Freudian symbolism that would inform Surrealism. More signiicantly for Perutz’s subsequent work with ilm, the struggle of an innocent man alienated from society and yet morally determined to free himself and right a wrong in a cynical world foreshadows the concept of the Hollywood ilm noir. It does so without moving through the speciic literary phase of the roman noir, the American crime novels dealing with antiheroic emotion triggered by crime and violence of the kind writen by Dashiell Hammet, Raymond Chandler, and James M. Cain in the 1920s through the 1940s. It was these and other “hardboiled” writers who later provided the material for screen adaptations by the Austrian and German emigrant ilmmakers in Hollywood who had led genocidal National Socialism in Europe. hese experiences found expression in ilms that positioned the victim as the protagonist rather than siding with a society of ambiguous values or inefectual representatives of law. Noir coming from hard-boiled detective novels was not the only source for the genre. While Austrian cinema never managed to sustain expressionism or the “street ilm” of Weimar Germany (for instance, in the movies of Lang and Pabst) or the ilm noir style that emerged from Hollywood’s collision with the émigrés from fascist oppression who melded their abusive experiences in Europe and a psychological approach to visual language from Expressionism with American crime drama, it did give birth to one of the unique moments of proto-noir in Western ilm. It was initiated by the very thing that eventually inspired noir in Hollywood, the exile of talent from Nazi Germany, while facilitating a nearly unknown transition into the soon-to-beiconic Hollywood versions of the genre. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 38 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Again, a clear historical link exists. Fleeing Nazi Germany in 1933, Austrian-born ilmmaker Rudolf Katscher (also known as Rudolph Cartier) arrived in Vienna, literally carrying the script to what was to have been his next German-made ilm (Moritz, Moser, and Leidinger 339). It was to be a thriller that embodied the expressionistic and psychological qualities of Fritz Lang’s M (Germany 1931) and the more advanced crime commentaries of Lang’s Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse/he Testament of Dr. Mabuse (Germany 1933), made before the Austrian-born Lang led to Hollywood. he script would become Austria’s only proto-noir ilm, Unsichtbare Gegner a.k.a. Öl ins Feuer/Invisible Adversaries (Austria 1933), a ilm that is both stylistically and narratively as satisfying as any in the later Hollywood genre. Fleeing Berlin along with Katscher was the producer of the ilm, the Austro-Hungarian born Sam Spiegel, and actors Oskar Homolka and Peter Lorre. All would participate in Katscher’s Vienna production. he ilm’s narrative follows a Brazilian engineer, Peter Ugron, who aims to thwart a conspiracy to fake geological surveys regarding a dry Brazilian oil ield so that it may be sold in Europe. Although only Ugron (and the audience) is aware of the fraud from the start of the ilm, a trail of deceit, espionage, and murder reaches from South America to Europe in an atempt by various parties to atain the dream of success in the “großen weiten und reichen Welt.” Not unimportantly, the ilm’s thriller narrative can be read as a political commentary on the hopeless and destructive desire to recapture a mythic greatness at any cost, a critical commentary on the seduction and deceit of European fascism. Vienna is hardly recognizable in this ilm, in which it functions rather as a stand-in for urban Europe as a whole, with the ilm’s mise-en-scène creating a labyrinth of faceless modern interiors and alienating corporate exteriors. Not just noir’s compulsory conspiratorial atmosphere, but also the ambiguous femme fatale character that would become a requirement for Hollywood noir is fully developed here in the character of Sybil, a double agent who ultimately saves Ugron from being murdered. Perutz’s hopes of utilizing his speciic literary-cinematic talents thus grew out of the real evolution of Austrian ilmmaking at the start of the German Nazi era. He had demonstrated his command of the requisite stories and character types with his early Freiheit success, and he might have been able to translate this to actual Austrian ilm now that Katscher’s ilm had es- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 39 tablished the assumption that the public indeed had a taste for the anti-hero psychological-crime genre. Yet his hopes of continuing work with Joseph han did not materialize. Instead, Perutz managed to complete his complex period novel Der schwedischer Reiter and publish it to praiseworthy Austrian reviews in 1936. It was of course banned in Nazi Germany, and he failed to market the novel as a ilm property to Warner Brothers in Hollywood on the basis of his earlier sale of Freiheit’s rights to MGM and his more recent eforts in Austrian ilm. his property also presented a clear problem as an expensive project for a major Vienna studio, which would ensure box oice success by “Aryanizing” the production for the lucrative German import market. Perutz would receive no credit for the original text or a possible screen treatment, and the novel had simply become too well known to present it under a pseudonym. he independent Emigrantenilm, which did produce screenplays by Jewish authors and included a Jewish cast, production, and crew members, could simply not aford the level of investment required for credible production of such a script, given its spoty distribution. Late baroque Silesian seting of the novel was also problematic in other ways: he independent ilms that were most successful in a home market increasingly dominated by large-budget German and aryanized Austrian productions were contemporary comedies or Viennese Film, which also continued to have box oice potential in Europe and Latin America. Moreover, Silesia would have found litle identiication abroad, beyond being an area known for territorial conlict between Germany and Poland. Severe inancial need and the lack of any forthcoming work in cinema thus turned Perutz back to writing novels. he three chapters of what would be, in many ways, the most Austrian of all his novels, Mainacht in Wien, were writen following his and his family’s legal departure from Vienna in July 1938, during their stop at Forte dei Marmi in Italy, as they awaited passage by ship to Palestine (Müller, Biographie 283–90). he text fragment clearly harks back to his irst success, Freiheit, the embryonic and undeveloped possibility of the Austrian roman noir, and makes use of the cinematic language he had learned during his brief work in Austrian ilm. Indeed, the fragment seems to be written wholly with the ilm medium in mind, and using a speciic cinematic/visual descriptive style and narrator/camera point of view. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 40 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 From Roman Noir to Literary “Film Noir” Reading Mainacht in Wien today, even as a fragment, immediately reveals its ilmic potential. One can envision it in adaptation as a Hollywood anti-Nazi romantic melodrama, populated in its character roles with the very emigrés that had led the Anschluss.2 It also demonstrates a curious proto-ilm noir consistency of everyman-conspiracy rather than the essentialist roman noir “hard-boiled” formula, and without springing directly from the Hollywood/ Central European synthesis that generated the Hollywood ilm noir. Instead, Perutz’s early novel Freiheit (which, as noted above, is at the root of early Hitchcock), his work in ilm, and his very possible knowledge of Austria’s proto-ilm noir, Unsichtbare Gegner, contributes to make the Mainacht fragment a unique crossover of ilm style into literature. His particular achievement is an unusual fusion, obliterating the construct of the sentimental and reactionary “topos Vienna” in the Viennese Film and simultaneously establishing a literary imitation of ilm noir that equates Nazism with gangsterism. Katscher’s Unsichtbare Gegner ilm, which had moved beyond Weimar psychological/crime ilm novels in its actual adaptation and production in Vienna, and Perutz’s uninished novelization of what might have been a fullblown Hollywood-style ilm noir about Vienna suggest that the cinema’s noir genre had signiicant Austrian-German antecedents before the exile work of Lang, Ulmer, and Wilder in Hollywood in the 1940s. Unfortunately, Perutz lost interest in the novel as he distanced himself from the Anschluss and Europe, and so that second alternate ilm noir from Austria (and necessarily produced outside of the annexed country) did not come into being as a ilm. Mainacht in Wien nonetheless carries signiicant weight of the moment as a document of the transition between Austria and the Ostmark (Hitler’s Austrian “province”). Hans Harald Müller, for instance, considers the fragment to be among den dokumentarisch genausten und literarisch gelungenen Darstellungen der Ereignisse und Atmosphäre in Wien nach dem Anschluss; es schilderte die Zerstörung der Welt, in der Perutz gelebt und sich eine literarische Existenz geschafen hate. . . . Die Wirkung des Fragments beruht sicher nicht zuletzt darauf, dass Perutz nicht die politische Anklage, sondern scharfe Ironie und Sarkasmus als distanzierende Erzählhaltung wählte. (Müller, “Nachwort” 234) Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 41 Perutz’s work also documents the aesthetics and sensibilities that are at stake in creating between the genres. Catriona Firth states in her recent study on literary to ilm adaptations that “ilm studies have long imported concepts from literary theory. Traic in the other direction has been remarkably sparse” (Firth 22). Her discussion of the translation of traditional boundaries that separate literary point of view and the literary work’s more “literal” treatment in ilm draws out a deinition of the spectatorial gaze and the illusion of perception that can be aligned with a literary “gaze” through utilizing both psychoanalytic ilm theory or narrative perspective. he process of classical suturing, which masks the invisible gaze of the ilmmaker and inserts the viewer into a signifying chain as it establishes a point of view “mimics the subject’s inauguration into language and her entry into the Symbolic order, as she assumes her place in relation to the ictional narrative” (Firth 22). Despite its fragmentary state, Perutz’s Mainacht in Wien is an almost perfect subject for this suggested cinematic reading of literature, as it in fact suggests what would later be known as ilm novelization. Although without an original ilm to novelize, Perutz’s novel is instead “cinematized”—blocked out in ways that draw the writen text closer to a cinematic treatment (and a mimicry of visual elements) that is true to its genre. he three chapters set up a fascinating thriller narrative against the backdrop of what is the genre’s typical corruption of society and its lawmakers speciically, as they are set from March 22 to May 30, 1938, during the irst months of the new order of Austrian annexation. Just as National Socialist ideology was iniltrating itself into all levels of life, the ilm shows how its historical backdrop slowly overwhelms the central story, until the atmosphere is sufocating. Mainacht’s central Jewish antihero character, Dr. Georg Schwarz, a Vienna newspaper editor, is dismissed from his position shortly ater the German invasion on March 12, 1938, and his two male friends atempt to arrange for a legal emigration by visa, but their hopes are shatered by the acts of the new regime. hey decide to lee illegally across the border to Czechoslovakia, but having trusted a swindler, this also fails. hey return to Vienna, with litle hope to escape from what is daily becoming an ever more precarious situation. Suddenly, one member of the group surprises the rest by introducing a mysterious but well-considered new plan, the details of which are obviously meant to unfold in the unwriten continuation of the novel. he fragment unfortunately reveals nothing of its nature. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 42 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 At the same time, Lizzi, an atractive and self-aware young woman from Schwarz’s past, suddenly appears. he daughter of a wealthy Jewish family forced out of their villa and into diicult inancial and living circumstances, she has secured most of her foreign visa requirements for emigration to England, except for those that have to come directly from Nazi oicials. Instead of completing her successful university education to become a chemist, she will now have to work as a maid in Manchester. Schwarz indicates that he will continue to work in the newspaper business once he relocates to France. Suggestions of their atraction, their unrequited love, and her plans for marriage to another, now apparently called of by the non-Jewish suitor himself, emerge in brief references in what is an oddly short-circuited farewell. As she disappears into the distance, Schwarz ruminates on the possible reason of having seen her just before his plans for escape would take place. he narrator, in the knowledgeable but suspenseful manner of the noir ilm, suggests that Schwarz’s reasoning is wrong and that there will be yet a second young woman who may play a particular role in this story (“. . . eine überragende Rolle geradezu, und dennoch keine,” 88).3 he fragment ends there. An examination of the text’s narrative topoi, imagery, and point of view easily displays the strong cinematic style Perutz uses, which already anticipates the noir ilm and darkly satirizes and obliterates the Viennese Film, making a transition between the fragile, nostalgic, and romantic elements of its narrative “topos Vienna” style and their ultimate failure in the National Socialist seting. he very title of the novel, Mainacht in Wien, might have suited an opereta or a romantic comedy in any 1930s Austrian- or even Germanproduced Viennese Film seting, but the shiting of this genre’s conventions due to the Nazi annexation is what here creates much of the ironic style. Perutz’s Vienna is no less a romantic seting in this fragment, even as it gains aspects of a police state. A reignited love afair between the sophisticated characters of Georg Schwarz and Lizzi seems logical as the extension of the narrative past of the fragment, given the tease of Lizzi’s appearance and brief lirtation and Georg’s barely stiled desire for her, but we know that they are both Jewish and that the year is 1938. he fragment-as-ilm is also given a cinematic “voiceover” narration by an omniscient speaker who continuously creates tension by judging characters and their actions and ironically suggesting what may yet happen and what it may well mean, but without full disclosure of causalities to the reader. his narrator is also functional in framing the signiicant lashback scenes. As Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 43 it could have been in the cinematic form of the day, the POV of this cinematic novel is sutured to the narrator who also at times suggests the gaze of the camera and who could been seen as the camera’s surrogate, mimicking the spectatorial gaze for the reader. As in both noir ilm and Viennese Film, the city functions as a major character, and so the novel mimics the establishing shot of both genres by opening with a panoramic description of location. his also serves to overlay (and thus deconstruct) the romantic image of the city from the canonical Viennese Film of the 1930s to introduce the transition into the “crime city” (Nazi Vienna) in the ilm noir. he opening “shot” of the irst chapter, subtitled, in an ironic reference to Perutz’s historic-epic novels, “Rückkehr aus dem Tartarus,” focuses on Dr. Schwarz taking a morning stroll in the landscape of the city’s semi-rural Heiligenstadt district, speciically observing the Beethovenstäten (memorials at sites where Beethoven lived) and the family villa of his former romantic interest Lizzi. It is illed with mise-en-scène details of the romantic/nostalgic “topos Vienna” from 1930s Viennese Film: a fresh early spring morning in Vienna, a cultured lâneur, indications of Biedermeier architecture, and other elements associated with great Viennese culture. Allusions to Beethoven and the romantic suggestion of the main character’s longing for the Viennese beauty no longer waiting for him behind the walls of the elegant haute bourgeois family villa conjure the tropes of the ilm genre and its history (which included several composer biopics). As in most of the early Willi Forst/Walter Reisch core Viennese Films of the early 1930s, there also seems to be the suggestion of a central conlict regarding the choice of living a life for art or love (Dassanowsky, “Cinema Baroque”). To this point in the chapter, the spectator/reader familiar with the ilm genre would surmise that this moment might perhaps bring the couple together and that the choice that separated them would be romantically reexamined—at a Heurigen or a ball or both. However, this formula and the very genre of the Viennese Film at this time and this place are completely delated by Schwarz’s thought—one telegraphed to us by the narrator, as we “gaze” on the codiied seting: “dieser Spaziergang ist sinnlos wie alles, was ich in der letzten Wochen getrieben habe” (57). Had a director commited this to ilm, the next establishing or rather re-establishing shot might have been the famous Vienna skyline, but now with a swastika lag draped across the Stephansdom. Instead, Perutz moves into a lashback. Ten days ater the oicial “Umbruch,” the “break” of regimes, Schwarz was promptly dismissed Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 44 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 from his position as editor of a large Vienna newspaper without any reason given. To help the reader/spectator follow the camera gaze and to imagine the event, the narrator informs them that he had suddenly been forbidden to enter the premises again (“Man hate ihm nur eines Abend verwehrt, die Redaktionsräume zu betreten,” 57). His longtime role would be assumed by “Kollegen aus dem Reich.” his and nothing else allowed him to embark on his seemingly romantic or nostalgic Viennese Spaziergang, and any choice of creative life or love he might hold to is no longer of any consequence. Most compellingly, the novel fragment’s frames what would be the introductory narrative as a lashback and suggests that there would be more convoluted storytelling throughout the planned novel. Both are standard aspects of mature noir ilms. In Georg Schwarz’s recollection, the Gestapo invades his apartment during breakfast, where he had been subsequently placed under house arrest, and he manages to answer only one of their many questions with an airmative—that he is a non-Aryan. But here again, there is a moment of cinematic fusion: the scene in which they rile through his stacks of newspapers and writings is one found in any image of a bureaucrat in Viennese ilm comedy, with every laughable cliché applied to oicials trying to cover up their lack of skills. Schwarz’s time in jail following this event is a rather tolerable one, with decent food and only the denial of a shave and a cigarete to bother him. Here, not as the viewer would expect from the Gestapo, he is given a modicum of deference and an actual bed in his cell, being the “Zimmerältester,” the senior prisoner (a title satirizing Austria’s stereotypical love of titles, which is also a comedic point in Austrian ilm of the 1930s). hese fatigued Vienna police oicials do not seem to have managed the Gleichschaltung that would have turned Viennese into Nazis, and so they treat him instead with Kakaesque confusion and distance—the only question asked of him is “Warum sind Sie hier?” (60). Given Perutz’s ilmic/theatrical bent in this narrative, one can imagine a cameo by one of Vienna’s comic character actors sotening the blow of the pointless examination by hinting at the third act of Johann Strauss’s opereta Die Fledermaus and the jailer’s interrogation ater the Slivovitz has taken its efect. Without any charges to press against him, he is dismissed but not oicially freed. Schwarz returns to his apartment, now shared by a housemate, Dr. Viktor Holzmann, “der geborene Pechvogel” (58)—another Viennese Film comic stereotype, the “Nörgler,” who now has the duty of announcing to Schwarz that the maid has just quit because she did not want to work for Jews. he dialogue between Holzmann and Schwarz Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 45 having to learn household tasks recalls the Viennese comedy ilm set pieces and the absurdist-tinged banter of Paul Hörbiger, Rudolf Carl, or Fritz Imhof, especially as it turns to shaving, eating, drinking, and the ultimate plans for the evening, heir friend Richard would join them, and sometimes their neighbor, “der Oberstleutnant . . . es dürte natürlich niemand sehen wenn er die Türe klopte. ‘Verkehr mit Nichtariern!’ Es gibt in jedem Haus Denunzianten. Hat er sich aber doch nicht abhalten lassen. Ein anständiger Mensch, ein altösterreichischer Oizier” (61). he mysterious character of the oicer suggests the other targets of the Nazi regime beyond the Jews, particularly those who supported Catholic Austrofascism. Described as a former imperial oicer, which suggests a lingering loyalty to the lost monarchy, if not actually to monarchism, he never actually appears in the fragment, and thus he represents the rapidly fading phantom of a more tolerant and cosmopolitan prewar Vienna.4 Richard, who apparently continues to value his rank in bourgeois society and insures that all are aware of his importance, is removed from his job in no less a brutal manner than his friends: “Richard läßt wieder einmal auf sich warten. Zu tun hat er gar nichts, er könnte pünktlich sein, den er ist naürlich auch nicht mehr bei seiner Bank, man hat ihn einfach auf die Straße geworfen nach fünfzehn Dienstjahren, aber er läßt deswegen den Kopf nicht hängen” (64). Perutz allows Richard only brief remarks in the fragment text, giving him a somewhat alienated presence, as if he does not fully accept the apparent threat. He later moves into the apartment of his two friends and brings along his skiing equipment and bust of Mozart—representing postimperial Austria as both Alpine and a site of high culture. Richard, who represents a male bourgeois type that was a standard in romantic comedy ilms of the 1930s, establishes the diference the Austrian and the German. Here, the character is directly deined by his symbolic atachments, and given his athletic/sporty nature but also his “Austrian” sensitivity (as opposed to the machismo of German leading men in Nazi German cinema), which is indicated by his love of classical music, the character suggests the leading men of the 1930s Austrian ilm, such as Wolf AlbachRety, Hans Holt, or the matinee idol of the Emigrantenilm, Hans Jaray. he roles played by these actors are linked to ilms with sport and ski setings or are found in period Viennese Film or romantic comedies in Vienna. Conversation turns to Dr. Holzmann’s disgust at the students leaving the Gymnasium as a result of the anti-intellectualism of the new order, which is related to another from 1930s Viennese comedy professors or mentors versus Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 46 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 students. He rationalizes this in a rage of fantasy liberation; he might well become a “Schifsteward,” given his knowledge of languages, which would ultimately be beter than years of efort required to become a worthy academic and pedagogue. Holzmann infers his respect for the writen “law,” but, as there is none to insist he continue as an unappreciated teacher, he dismisses the convention of duty. Yet this is highly problematic now that the writen “law” he would purport to follow ironically has become a Nazi proscription that banishes him from his profession and society. One wonders what “laws” aimed against him Perutz may have planned for this intellectual character to follow out of respect for authority: Ich habe immer schon den Tag verlucht, an dem mir eingefallen ist, Germanistik und alte Sprachen zu studieren. Kostbare Jahre habe ich verloren, aber noch ist es nicht zu spat. Wo, zum Teufel, steht geschrieben, daß ich mein Leben lang idiotische Manuskripte für stupide Verleger bearbeiten, Bürstenabzüge korrigieren und daneben noch denkfaulen Gymnasiasten ihre Lektionen eintrichtern muß? Nirgens steht das geschrieben. Zwei Schüler habe ich übrigens noch, fragt sich nur, wie lange ich sie behalte. (63) Holzmann also transforms the actual political situation into a metailmic metaphor: “Was jetzt die Auslandspresse über Wien schreibt, das liest sich wie der Nachruf auf einen gefeierten Filmstar, dem die Welt viele Stunden künstlerischen Genusses zu danken hat, und jetzt ist er uns entrissen, aber die grossen Filmproduzenten werden auch ohne ihn auskommen” (63–64). Holzmann and Richard have writen leters to friends and supposed relatives around the world, desperately searching for visa sponsors. here is something akin to a momentary hope. he second chapter’s title, “Ringsrum Stacheldraht,” is itself an ominous play on the many Austrian ilms that used the word Ring (referring to Vienna’s grand Ringstrasse) in their titles and were set on the Ringstrasse during the era. he title suggests that barbed wire now forms a ring around the city, turning Vienna into a concentration camp. Perutz may be referring to the camp at Dachau, the destination of many government oicials and prominent society leaders of the Schuschnigg clerico-authoritarian Austrofascist regime arrested ater the German invasion and the oicial government takeover by the Austrian National Socialist Party. We move a few weeks into the future, and the plans, which we now learn had been made following the last scene, have Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 47 all collapsed. Leters remain largely unanswered; the trio has pooled their savings in a communal fund to help one another; and Schwarz and Holzmann must soon vacate the premises. Just surviving the red tape of the new regime is time- and energy-consuming to the point of exhaustion, and they make no progress in leaving Vienna. Jews are being beaten and arrested in the streets and pulled out of their homes. Foreigners with no proper identiication are taken to the camps. With no possibility of legal exit, the idea of secret escape becomes central to the trio. he Czechoslovakian border becomes their target, and Jozsi, an amiable, middle-aged, polyglot waiter in an obscure café, is to provide the arrangements. he escape plan is discussed in exact detail, money for Jozsi and his helpers who are sworn to silence is exchanged, and, with a tip of a hat, he walks out the night before the planned escape and is never heard from again. he double-cross betrayal is pure ilm noir and recalls the deceptions of the swindlers in Unsichtbare Gegner who sell a nonexistent oil ield to trusting investors. Nevertheless, following the days of depression and lethargy resulting from this swindle, Dr. Holzmann announces his mysterious and purportedly well-thought-out new plan. he scenes of the third chapter are to be read as a cinematic parody of romantic cinematic themes from Austrian ilm of the 1930s—“Ein Stubenmädchen und ein Zeitungsverkäufer nehmen Abschied voneinander.” hey bring us to the present, connecting with the opening scene of Dr. Schwarz in Heiligenstadt as he makes it to the Ringstrasse later the same day. his chapter is perhaps the most parodic of the Viennese Film. Given all that has occurred, Schwarz is now only concerned with delicacies, “Feinschmeckerei”— cigaretes for all, special cofee for Dr. Holzmann, and a botle of Curaçao for Richard. As Georg Schwarz passes a bookstore, he recalls an outstanding bill and decides to correct his oversight. Having frequented the store for a decade, he is unprepared for the diference he discovers. Bookshelves with large bare spaces, the result of banned authors and titles, now feature Party literature, Blut und Boden novels about young farm lads who happily return to the countryside ater corrosive experiences in the city, race-based fantasies based on ancient Germanic sagas, and thrillers about death rays and the forces of evil that desire to use them against Germany. Authors not explicitly forbidden or that have no importance to the new order are hidden in an alcove along with titles by Tolstoy, Stendahl, Flaubert, and Verlaine. Georg discovers “der blonde Riese” who owns the store to be Dutch; the proprietor Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 48 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 now displays his passport to reassure customers of his nationality and “Aryan” status. He conides to Georg his disgust with the regime, which has taken half of his inventory, and intimates that he intends to return to the Netherlands to open a lending library with books that he likes. He explains the absurdity of race-based censorship: “Nur Juden dürfen Heines Werke kaufen, es ist ihnen also geradezu ein Privileg eingeräumt. Gorki wiederum darf weder Jud noch Christ lessen. Warum? ‘Keine Ahnung’” (81). he Anschluss has subverted the impressionistic sights and sounds of the cinematically “romantic” city into a sinister parody of the “normal” and expected. his destabilization of representations, a signiicant aspect of the ilm noir, indicates the demolition of traditional values of ethnicity, culture, and religion: Die Blumenverkäuferinnen boten den Passanten ohne auf deren Rassenzugehörigkeit zu achten, ihre Ware an, und es erschien beinahe sonderbar, daß Flieder, Maiglökchen und Narzissen auch für Juden und Mischlinge ersten, zweiten oder driten Grades duteten und blühten. Arbeitslose hielten den Vorbeihastenden Ansichtskarten . . . und schrie dazu ‘Lachender Führer mit Sonderstämpäl!’ Und von den Kirchentürmen kam das Ave Maria-Läuten, das den Bewohnern der Großstadt nichts anders mehr bedeutet als ein leises, melodisches Klingen. . . . (78) Vienna appears as part vandalized ilm set and part terra incognita, as posters cover architectural landmarks giving thanks to the Führer, papering over imperial “Holieferanten” signs at shops, along with absurd indications of “Reinblutiges Geschät” or “Deutsch-arisch seit 1879” (77). Leters spelling “JUDE” are smeared in yellow paint across store windows, and a response intended to neutralize the “Ausgrenzung” of the Jewish owners is provided on a note atached to a door: “Frontsoldat, Kriegsinvalider, Besitzer beider silberner Tapferkeitsmedaillien und des Signum Laudis” (77). Further: “Reichsdeutscher Besucher die meist in Gruppen autraten fragten die Ihnen Entgegenkommenden nach dem Weg zum Stephansdom, zur Hoburg, oder zur Bierklinik. . . . Propagandaautos luden zum Betrag des Stürmer ein” (77). Ater years of National Socialist requirements that inhibited German citizens from visiting Austria,5 they now arrive en masse as tourists, to see a German Vienna that overnight has become a collection of what has been transformed into recognizable but slightly out-of-focus facades that they, too, had original- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 49 ly seen in ilms. he notorious anti-Semitic Nazi German propaganda tabloid, Der Stürmer, accompanies them, seeming urgently to blot out any previous Viennese newsprint. he iconography could not be clearer. Allusions to the Viennese Film thus not only celebrate its cultural imaginary with recognizable tropes but also equate the regime with noir gangsterism and deep social duplicity. Schwarz’s experiences in Vienna’s historic First District typify this overlay. As he passes an elegant café where he used to play chess and read foreign papers—“wo er wohl ein Jahr seines Lebens verbracht hate” (81)—the ancient white-jacketed and -gloved waiter (the Herr Ober character so familiar to comic ilm palaver) recognizes Schwarz immediately and bows to greet him. he narrator describes the ultimate qualities of these worldly café waiters who know their guests, their titles, and their desires and remain perhaps the last bastion of the imperial Vienna—having once served Gustav Mahler, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Peter Altenberg, and Sigmund Freud. In a blistering send-up of the type of dialogue oten assigned to an actor like Szőke Szakáll with his grandfatherly bluster, or to Hans Moser and his self-conscious mumbling, either of whom might have made it believable, this ultimate deferential and genial Viennese cinema waiter type addresses Schwarz pointedly as “Herr Doktor” and inquires about his health.6 He also reveals, in an exasperated “Raunzen,” his startling new circumstances: “ein Nazi bin ich halt,” ater which he adds biter sarcasm to the genial exchange that oten is the followup in such tropes: “Alle Tag geht’s mir besser. Gar nicht mehr auszuhalten ist’s vor lauter Freude. Den ganzen Tag könne ich Juchhe schreien . . .” (83). Under this cover, however, he manages to slip Schwarz the fraternal socialist handshake as he graciously bids him farewell.7 As Vienna falls into evening and Schwarz passes the darkened opera house on a side street on the way to his apartment, he hears Lizzi’s voice calling him. His object of his desire appears seemingly out of nowhere to alter the course of his life, as is a common trope for the female lead character in noir novels and ilm. She has seemingly come to bid farewell and to explain her planned emigration from Nazi Vienna. Lizzi’s blue silk dress and bolero jacket, which is pointedly observed and described, disconcertingly calls undue atention to her and both atracts and disturbs Schwarz. Lizzi’s lirty nature contrasts with her sharp retorts in conversation, which also give her a quality of self-assuredness and a hint of aggressive sexuality, a duality that would have made her character suitable for a Viennese screwball comedy of Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 50 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 the era but also for the rare sophisticated melodrama in which an intelligent female character anchors the plot. Given the traces of personality that Perutz supplies, it is obvious that even if the character were not Jewish, her independent spirit would endanger her in the shadowy and corrupted noir Vienna of the Ostmark. Lizzi might well have been inluenced by actresses such as Christl Mardayn, Hortense Raky, or even Nora Gregor,8 who played characters with a similar temperament in Austrian ilm and stage during the 1930s. his intelligent and carefree ingénue might later be revealed to be either a troubled but resilient noir heroine or even a femme fatale. Mainacht: he Change of Political Seasons For Perutz, Nazism revealed itself through the many-layered palimpsest of Vienna, through which other identities would display themselves, be blocked, or even be pulled forth. His literary mise-en-scène thus explicitly tracks the Viennese Film and the preiguration of the noir ilm as they collide and as the later subverts, distorts, and makes inefective the aspects of the Viennese Film, as the Anschluss and Nazism absorbs all levels of Viennese life and culture. In only three chapters, Perutz manages to turn both the readers’ memory of Vienna as real city, its Viennese Film topos, and romantic clichés into an ever more daunting labyrinth, a patern he already perfected in his novel Zwischen neun und neun/Freiheit in 1918. he author uses the stereotypes of the Viennese Film to comment indirectly on this political change, while summoning up a distinctly darker fate for typical Viennese everymen and -women. Although he had already noted “Finis Austriae” in his notebook on March 3, 1938, ten days before the German invasion and three months prior to his departure from Vienna en route to Palestine (Müller, Biographie 277– 78), this novel fragment suggests that the event was not an end for Perutz but rather signaled the transformation of the known into a perversion of its former self. Translating the Anschluss and the Judenverfolgung by introducing scenes echoing contemporaneous entertainment ilm genres with their recognizable features, character types, and constellations would ultimately show that the cultural mythology of the National Socialist new order was indeed a theatrical/cinematic facade and that its power was nothing more than the thuggery and corruption of a ilm noir antagonist. he character population and the topoi that stem from the poetic realism of the Viennese Film disin- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 51 tegrate in the collision with the brutality of Nazism-as-noir genre, but in this way, Perutz also points to the naïve and gullible Viennese Film types that cannot fathom the dislocation from their world into one of darkness and cruelty. Ultimately, Perutz’s narrative follows paterns that would become ilm noir formula and are already clearly displayed in Freiheit, which focuses on people caught in an undesired situation and who atempt to escape or batle hopelessness and even doom. Oten this genre suggests that while the victims are not responsible for the situation, they may have allowed it to gain strength. Perutz does not take on Austrofascism per se but suggests that at least in general, his corrupted Vienna in the novel fragment was not as resisted as it might have been, nor was it expected to be as brutal as it is depicted. Particularly the madness behind the absurdities indicates Expressionism at the root of noir. As is the hallmark of noir, there seems to be no return from a world that is inherently corrupt (Ballinger and Graydon 4). Perutz’s novel fragment, like the singular Unsichtbare Gegner ilm, supports the more recent belief in ilm scholarship that noir began far earlier than the canonical ilms of the late 1940s and 1950s; the synthesis of socio-political commentary, pessimism, and expressionist-inluenced style occurred before the classic Hollywood genre in Germany and Austria. his fragment in the early stages of its narrative also leads to speculation as to how Perutz would have resolved the plot and the growing subplots. Would its allusions to Viennese Film return or even intensify to provide an ironic or perhaps magical realist resolution (given Perutz’s expertise in that style as well), or would the novel have grown darker, ultimately standing as a monument to inhumanity? Surely, Perutz would not have wanted to predict something akin to the Holocaust with this text, despite the escalating madness that surrounds the characters and their growing noir “existential biterness” (Silver and Ward 6). he inal mood of the uninished and sophisticated stylistic experiment of Mainacht in Wien seems mysteriously promising. Perhaps the realization of the ineradicable doom that Perutz and his family managed to avoid caused him to put down pen and forestall the cinematic delusions of his characters. Robert Dassanowsky is professor of German and Film Studies and director of the Film Studies program at the University of Colorado–Colorado Springs. He is co-founder of the International Alexander Lernet-Holenia Society and Fellow of the Royal Historical Society and serves on several festival, editorial, Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 52 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 and advisory boards. He is also active as an independent ilm producer. His books include Phantom Empires: he Novels of Alexander Lernet-Holenia and the Question of Postimperial Austrian Identity (Ariadne 1996); Austrian Cinema: A History (McFarland 2005); New Austrian Film (with Oliver Speck, Berghahn 2011); he Nameable and the Unnameable: Hofmannsthal’s Der Schwierige Revisited (with Martin Liebscher, Iudicium 2011); Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds: A Manipulation of Metacinema (ed., Continuum 2012); World Film Locations: Vienna (ed., Intellect 2012); and Screening Transcendence: Film under Austrofascism and the Hollywood Hope, 1933–1938 (Indiana UP 2018). He is a past president of the Austrian Studies Association. Notes 1. hey range from Mexico under Cortez, Renaissance Italy, the court of the Holy Roman Empire in Prague, and France in the sixteenth century to Sweden in the eighteenth century and Spain in the Napoleonic era, all with strong meditative qualities and metaphysical underpinnings regarding the collisions of independent will and fate. Titles include Der Marques de Bolibar (1920), Die Geburt des Antichrist (1921), Der Meister des Jüngsten Tages (1923), Turlupin (1924), Der schwedische Reiter (1936), Nachts unter der steinernen Brücke (1953), Der Judas des Leonardo (posthumously published in 1959). 2. Frank Borzag’s he Mortal Storm (USA 1940), James Whale’s hey Dare Not Love (USA 1941), Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca (USA 1942), Herman Shumlin’s Watch on the Rhine (USA 1943), are noir examples of Hollywood’s blending of romance and adventure with anti-Nazi propaganda. Only one such anti-Nazi ilm would atempt to be quite as trans-genre as Perutz seems to have intended for his uninished novel Mainacht in Wien: Leo McCarey’s Once upon a Honeymoon (USA 1942). Also beginning in Vienna at the Anschluss, it atempted to mix screwball comedy and the star qualities of Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers into a romantic ilm that ranged from broad physical humor to censorship skirting dialogue about sterilization of Jews, and to ostensibly the irst concentration camp set piece in Hollywood ilm. he result was a nothing less than a muddled and unsuccessful ilm bordering on the tasteless, in part because the diferent styles and genres were not successfully blended in Sheridan Gibney’s screenplay and remained unbalanced and isolated under the director’s unsubtle hand. Perhaps only the satire of Ernst Lubitsch and later Billy Wilder could carry such serious topics and underscore the inhumanity with absurdity. Perutz’s uninished novel is indeed subtle in its humor and in what sparse romance there is. Its noir quality, while far more threatening than the tone of MacCarey’s ilm, also allows for human characterizations rather than caricature. 3. All quotes from the novel fragment originate in Perutz, Mainacht in Wien, and are noted parenthetically in the text. 4. Perutz avoids dealing with any division of a pre-Anschluss “Red” (Socialist) and “Black” (Christian Social and Conservative) Vienna that also created real or imagined “Je- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Dassanowsky: The Anschluss as Film Noir | 53 wish space” in the city as the author did with the Leopoldstadt district in his “Skizzen aus der Ukraine,” which “mocks the ‘dream’ of Vienna held by many emigrant Eastern European Jews” (Silverman 119). By placing a gentile “Old-Austrian” oicer as neighbor to the Jewish Dr. Schwarz, he symbolically (on a bourgeois level) maintains victimization of all the nonpan-German or non-Nazi Viennese population in what suggests ghetoization, as Schwarz’s apartment grows from one to three Jewish inhabitants. 5. Under the “Tausend Mark Sperre” instituted by the hird Reich in 1933, Germans desiring to visit Austria would be required to pay one thousand Reichsmarks for a visa. he law was intended to inhibit tourism and independent business in Austria and damage its economy. Germans had made up the highest proportion of all foreign visitors to Austria before the creation of the National Socialist state. 6. Traditionally, waiters in such cafés would know or assume everyone’s title and oten inlate them, calling an intellectual “Herr Professor,” a wealthy-looking man “Herr Baron,” and an actual baron “Herr Graf,” etc. Austrian ilm from its silent days to the end of commercial cinema in the early 1960s underscored this as a popular and expected comedy trope in any situation dealing with waiters and eating establishments. 7. See note 4. Here Perutz intimates that “Red Vienna” continued to exist under Catholic Austrofascism (1933–38) before the Anschluss in the population of Jewish and non-Jewish intellectual and working class. 8. Gregor would play just that sort of mysterious and self-aware character in Jean Renoir’s La règle du jeu/he Rules of the Game (France 1939) following her light from the Anschluss with her husband, the former Austrofascist vice chancellor and Heimwehr militia leader, Prince Ernst Rüdiger von Starhemberg. Works Cited Ballinger, Alexander, and Danny Graydon. he Rough Guide to Film Noir. London: Rough Guides, 2007. Print. Dassanowsky, Robert. “Cinema Baroque: Reconsidering the Aesthetics of the ‘Viennese Film’ and its (Trans)National(ist) Value vis-à-vis Germany in the 1930s.” Unpublished paper presented at “Verfreundete Nachbarn”: he German-Austrian Encounter in Literature, Film, and Cultural Discourse, Annual International Conference of the Modern Austrian Literature and Culture Association. Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia, April 23–26, 2009. Print. —. Phantom Empires: he Novels of Alexander Lernet-Holenia and the Question of Postimperial Austrian Identity. Riverside, CA: Ariadne, 1996. Print. Firth, Catriona. Modern Austrian Literature through the Lens of Adaptation. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2012. Print. Frank, Rudolf. Fair Play, oder Es kommt nicht zum Krieg: Roman einer Emigration in Wien. Berlin: Aufbau Verlag, 1998. Print. Der Kossak und die Nachtigall/he Cossak and the Nightingale. Dir. Phil Jutzi. Perf. Jarmila Novotna, Fritz Imhof, Ivan Petrovich, Rudolf Carl. Atlantis-Film, 1935. DVD. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 54 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 he Lodger: A Story of the London Fog. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. Perf. Ivor Novello, June [Tripp], Marie Ault, Arthur Chesney. Gainsborough Pictures, 1927. DVD. Lüth, Reinhard. Drommetenrot und Azurblau: Studien zur Ainität von Erzähltechnik und Phantastik in Romanen von Leo Perutz und Alexander Lernet-Holenia. Meitingen, Germany: Corian, 1988. Print. Moritz, Verena, Karin Moser, and Hannes Leidinger, Kampfzone Kino: Film in Österreich 1918–1938. Vienna: Filmarchiv Austria, 2008. Print. Müller, Hans Harald. Leo Perutz: Biographie. Vienna: Paul Zsolnay, 2007. Print. —. Phantom Empires: he Novels of Alexander Lernet-Holenia and the Question of Postimperial Austrian Identity. Riverside, CA: Ariadne, 1996. Print. “Nachwort: Begegnung mit dem Tod ohne Folgen.” Leo Perutz, Zwischen Neun und Neun. Munich: DTV, 2004. Print. Nur ein Komödiant/Only a Comedian. Dir. Erich Engel. Perf. Rudolf Forster, Paul Wegener, Hans Moser, Christl Mardayn, Hilde von Stolz. Horus-Film, 1935. DVD. Perutz, Leo. Mainacht in Wien. Aterword by Hans Harald Müller. Munich: DTV, 2007. Print. Silver, Alain, and Elizabeth Ward. Film Noir: An Encyclopedic Reference to the American Style. Woodstock, NY: Overlook Press, 1992. Print. Silverman, Lisa. Becoming Austrians: Jews and Jewish Culture Between the World Wars. Oxford and New York: Oxford UP, 2012. Print. he 39 Steps. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. Perf. Robert Donat, Madeleine Carroll, Lucie Mannheim, Peggy Ashcrot. Gaumont-British Picture Corporation, 1935. DVD. Unsichtbare Gegner. Dir. Rudolf Katscher. Perf. Gerda Maurus, Paul Hartmann, Oskar Homolka, Peter Lorre. Also titled Öl ins Feuer/Invisible Adversaries. Pan-Film, 1933. DVD. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Blick as the Border of Authenticity in Christoph Ransmayr’s Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes William M. Mahan Questions concerning humanity central to Christoph Ransmayr in his earlier novels ind new expression and meaning some thirty years later in the wake of a rapidly digitizing society. Long ater the publication of Die Schrecken des Eises und der Finsternis, which posits, in Dora Osborne’s words, a “symptomatology of visual dysfunction” in relation to history and memory that becomes even more pronounced in Morbus Kitahara, Ransmayr identiies renewed symptoms in present-day society (see Osborne 11). He does this by a means of a retrospection that, ironically, remains relatively indiferent to time and the linear advancement of history and consistently rejects precision in its recording of geographical spaces, rarely divulging exact location or GPS coordinates. In doing so, Ransmayr shows concern over the erasing of cultural histories. In his 2012 travelogue Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes, Ransmayr presents a sustained meditation on the Blick, the tourist gaze, as argued in a recent essay entitled “Der Blick des Touristen” by Wolfgang Struck. I seek to contribute to this discussion by showing how, in Ransmayr’s Atlas, the autobiographically narrated tourist gaze is marked by pluralistic ambivalence. Furthermore, I argue that Ransmayr deploys struggles of perspective and orientation characteristic of the postmodernist style established in his earlier works now with a newfound sense of anxiety concerning humanity and embodied metaphorically in the institution of tourism. he narrative of Atlas, as a result of this style, is marked by “blind spots,” as Osborne argues of Ransmayr’s earlier novels in her seminal book Traces of Trauma in W. G. Sebald and Christoph Ransmayr. hese features of the gaze heighten the overall JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 56 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 sensation of touristic anxiety by questioning the authenticity of the primarily visual touristic experience as well as its preservation in memory. Drawing on insights from Osborne’s work, I read Atlas as a follow-up to Ransmayr’s earlier postmodernist style in which the post-Holocaust undertones of his early texts have expanded to address the historicity of humanity in the relationship between events and the exactitude of recorded memory. Whereas Ransmayr’s earlier protagonists embody a bifurcated atitude toward a Deleuzean conception of humanity as becoming-machine, such as in Morbus Kitahara (as Osborne points out), in Atlas Ransmayr assumes a more critical stance toward such transformations. Ransmayr’s retrospective, autobiographical narrator strives to depict the places he revisits in Atlas, according to Struck, as “sinnlich erfahrbare Totalitäten” (189) and as spaces where humanity and nature collide.1 Struck discerns in the tourist gaze a metaphorical, embodied representation of these collision spaces (182) and a distancing function, which gives the tourist a feeling of being “bewafnet.”2 his dual sense of protection and distancing is heightened (for Ransmayr-as-tourist) when the gaze is mediated through a viewing instrument, such as a telescope. he increasingly technological enhancement of the tourist gaze serves on the one hand to improve the touristic experience, while on the other hand it separates humans further from a “natural” mode of apprehending the environment, signaling a becoming-machine in terms of increasing dependence on technology. While Struck focuses on humanity’s transgression of the borders of nature, I establish the role of the gaze in this transgression as the catalyst for border and collision-space creation. Inspired by John Urry’s he Tourist Gaze 3.0, which follows a tradition of tourism theory to argue that there is “no single gaze as such” (2), I address the issue of the plurality of the gaze, taking into account the augmentation of the tourist gaze by technology in various stages of individual and collective experience, and then consider the gaze’s relationship to Ransmayr’s problematization of authenticity. I support my application of Urry’s centrality of the gaze as the paradigm of tourist behavior with evidence from recent studies, which reveal that the present-day touristic experience has become increasingly ocular with the advent of newly introduced social media and information technologies of recent years. Ransmayr’s rather indirect engagement with such technologies within Atlas and his caution in the sharing of information with his readers Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity about his precise locations or his use of technological devices, even as the work is shadowed by their presence, relects a larger stylistic determination featuring a tension between erasure and preservation of memory.3 In terms of both history and narration, retrospection as a type of gazing into the past creates gaps in memory and limits its holistic, accurate preservation. Ransmayr deploys a perspectival questioning of the authenticity of remembered experience as he explores humanity via his own touristic memories in the episodic Atlas. Osborne convincingly illustrates how vision, especially in relation to memory, is a leitmotif in Ransmayr’s writing and becomes a central part of his post-Holocaust agenda. Perspective, furthermore, separates the viewer from the viewed and is the component of the tourist gaze that allows Struck to identify its ‘arming’ function. Ater focusing on issues of pluralistic identity, perspective, and technological mediation, I draw on Linda K. Hammarfelt’s theory of the deconstruction of mappability in “Literatur an der Grenze der Kartierbarkeit: Ransmayrs Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes” to analyze the struggle between absolute orientation and approximation in Ransmayr’s gaze in terms of distance, location, and other quantiiable measurements. As opposed to perspective, which emphasizes the viewer over the viewed, orientation involves a viewer’s atempt to place himself in relation to the other. From their on-site observations of tourists, Brown and Chalmers point out that, when using a map, “tourists might not know where they were, might have litle idea about their orientation, might not know where they were going, and might even be unsure about what they were looking for” (346). Hence, the standardization inherent in a map “can make strange places feel considerably safer to tourists by reducing their uncertainty” (343)—even when one can’t immediately locate oneself on it. Ransmayr’s decision to write, as Hammarfelt puts it, on the border of chartability in many ways refuses his reader the familiarity of an orienting starting point, yet still encourages his reader to follow his journey as an individualistic undertaking, ofering his “narrative photographs” as an alternative to the collective sharing of the touristic experience through conventional images and time-location stamps.4 My essay thus enters previously “uncharted” territory by examining the plurality, perspective, and orientation of the tourist gaze, to reveal in three diferent ways the connections between authenticity, mediation, and the overall mood of anxiety in Ransmayr’s Atlas. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 57 58 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 1. Plurality (and the “Authentic” Tourist) In Atlas, the tourist gaze represents a polyvalent constellation of viewpoints: networks form among Ransmayr’s various perspectives, and uncertain relationships emerge between Ransmayr’s own Blick and that of other tourists present in many episodes. “Ich sah”—the locution with which the narrator opens his accounts of every place visited in the seventy episodes of Atlas—initiates the gaze and involves multiple components. he coloring of the seen as it is iltered by the “Ich” paradoxically removes the narrator from what he is trying to scrutinize, because the tourist gaze is, as Stuck suggests, armed. Ransmayr’s iteration of the declarative phrase “Ich sah” implements what Urry terms the spectatorial sociality within the narration of his travels. In Urry’s scheme, diverse gazes such as this spectatorial gaze are deined by particular “socialities” implied in their respective “discourses” (19). Yet in all these various discourses (touristic situations), the sociality of the tourist has a visual nature, which, Urry points out, “mirrors the general privileging of the eye within the history of western societies” (127). However, globalized tourism imposes the privileging of the eye beyond the westerner onto all tourists. As Buhalis and O’Connor point out in “Information Communication Technology Revolutionizing Tourism,” “Information Communication Technologies (ICTs) have been revolutionizing tourism globally,” driving a “new paradigmshit” within the industry (7). As early as 2005, e-tourism already relected “the digitization of all processes and value chains in the tourism, travel, hospitality and catering industries” (11). his is not to mention the impact that the social phenomenon of photo-sharing has had on travel, beginning as early as 2004 with the appearance of Flickr, and increasingly in 2010 with Instagram and Pinterest. In many ways, Ransmayr grapples with such visual consumerism in a manner that mirrors his remarkably indirect (especially in Die Schrecken des Eises und der Finsternis, less so in Morbus Kitahara) approach to the Holocaust as well as his necessarily frustrated atempts to explore the role of vision in the erasure and preservation of history and memory in his previous works (see Osborne). hese themes seem to resurface from beneath the ice of Die Schrecken and come to focus again ater the blindness of Morbus Kitahara in Ransmayr’s own recollected journeys in Atlas. Indeed, even the titles of many episodes are intextual references to Ransmayr’s previous work: “Gespenster,” “In der Tiefe,” “Die Schönheit der Finsternis,” “Ein Schaten der Retung,” “Nack- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity ter im Schaten,” “Der Eisgot,” “Ein Weltuntergang,” “Im Schaten des Vogelmannes,” and so forth. Osborne discusses the signiicance of Ransmayr’s bird-man motif in her discussion of Morbus Kitahara, as well as darkness and blindness with reference to both Die Schrecken and Morbus Kitahara. Even peaceful-sounding chapter titles in Atlas can reveal a bitersweet irony, as, for example, “Stille Nacht,” in which seventy thousand homeless people are killed by a monsoon.5 Ransmayr contemplates elsewhere the destructive power of water, especially waves, and its capacity to erase human traces. In “Das Erlöschen einer Stadt,” he describes feeling the atershocks of an earthquake in Kalamata, Greece. hough not stated in the text, it seems likely that this was the earthquake of September 1986, but to infer this is already to orient oneself beyond the information that Ransmayr volunteers. Ransmayr’s narrated-self interrupts his gazing at the constellations with consideration of the accompanying Greek myths: “Taygetos: Die Kartographen haten diese lichtlosen Silhoueten nach der unglücklichen Nymphe Taygete getaut, eine der sieben Töchter des Titanen Atlas, die sich aus Verzweilung in diesen Bergen erhängte, nachdem Zeus, der Vater aller Unsterblichen, sie verführt hate” (57). One of several references to the mythological igure Atlas in the travelogue, this situation is particularly telling of the Angst of the book’s anxious man. Ransmayr continues: “Als ich dennoch unwillkürlich nach ihr und ihren ebenfalls an das Firmament versetzten Schwestern, den Plejaden, Ausschau hielt, wurde mir plötzlich und erschreckend klar, was an diesem Himmel bedrohlich war: die ungebrochene Schwärze” (57). Unlike the lights that obstruct his alpine nocturnal star photography in another episode involving an imposition of technology on the darkness of the mountain sky, which I discuss later, the darkness of the Grecian sky in this episode is particularly ominous precisely because of the absence of interference from mankind’s artiicial lighting. Signiicantly, Osborne points out that Ransmayr’s most successful novel, Die letzte Welt, is “seen as paradigmatically postmodern for its reworking of classical myth (Ovid’s Metamorphoses), its thematization of the writer and his work, and the performative inscription and erasure of this writing” (8). he writer and his work, along with myth, ind voice again in Atlas—moreover, in an age of rapid global travel, when, as Jahan Ramazani argues in “Poetry and Tourism in a Global Age,” writers “all the more frequently double as tourists and tourists as poets” (459). Ransmayr’s re-contextualization of myth in Atlas, including the Medusa igure, which I discuss below, can be seen to follow a similar postmodern pat- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 59 60 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 tern in which the igures bear the weight of history on their shoulders for an increasingly indiferent humanity threatening to grow beyond its genealogy. Ransmayr continues: In den vielen Nächten, in denen ich auf dieser Bergstraße schon zu Christos’ Taverne hochgefahren war, schimmerte über den Höhenzügen im Nordwesten stets der Lichtbogen Kalamatas, der Hauptstadt Messeniens, ein Abglanz, der viele Sterne, die nun den nordwestlichen Himmel durchsprengten, überstrahlt und unsichtbar gemacht hate. Aber jetzt erhellte kein noch so schwacher, künstlicher Lichtschein die sternübersäte Dunkelheit über dem Ort, an dem in diesen Jahren etwa fünfzigtausend Menschen wohnten. Kalamata war erloschen (57). He describes himself as if in light from this unexplainable phenomenon when he experiences it further: he seismic waves of the earthquake reach him on a far-removed, serpentine mountain road and almost cause him to tumble. he episode diverges to his later observation of locals gathered around a television at the tavern in a communal experience of concern, juxtaposed to his own anxious confusion. What Ransmayr does not mention here, although his gaze is probably retrospectively directed toward it to some extent, is that this earthquake killed about twenty people and let another ten thousand homeless. he displacement of people, the destruction by (and of) nature, and the Erlöschen of culture are continuing themes in Atlas and relect the leitmotif of erasure in Ransmayr’s authorship. he narrator of Atlas gathers together the perspectives of the various socialities of the tourist gaze that Urry distinguishes. But at the same time, the narrator’s identity displays an anxious tension with these stereotypes. As Buhalis and O’Connor point out, each tourist is diferent, “carrying a unique blend of motivations, experiences and desires” (11). Yet touristic behavior is increasingly algorithmically predictable, and tourists are the primary contributors to this process through the (online) sharing of their gaze, as Kádár and Gede point out in their article on tourists and geotagging. Ransmayr appears to incorporate the tension between sharing and withholding of experience— or memory—on an individualistic level in his role as narrator of Atlas. To this extent, his narrated gaze, when occasionally juxtaposed to the narrating gaze or the gaze of another character, relects both blurring and the distancing Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity emphasized by Struck. Sometimes one of Urry’s modes of sociality characterizes the narrator’s gaze more speciically than others; considered in relation to the narrator’s gaze over the course of Atlas, these speciic employments of one gaze or another reveal plurality throughout the travelogue. Urry determines that the spectatorial gaze is dominant in the touristic system; he describes it as the “glancing at and collecting of diferent signs that have been very briely seen in passing,” such as the collecting of glances from a bus window or cruise ships that “enable visitors to see ‘Norway in a Nutshell’” (20). Urry argues that this leeting, spectatorial gaze might be the least “intrusive” of the socialities, “since it is likely to be mobile and will soon pass by (although the endlessly anonymous traic may itself be overwhelming)” (23). Here, Urry does not account for the intrusive by-products of spectatorial traic such as touristiication. Intrusion is a prominent theme in Ransmayr’s Atlas, as Ransmayr contemplates the impact of traces (Spuren) that he and other tourists leave behind—human traces that, just as in Die Schrecken, can be arbitrarily preserved or erased by nature, and that perhaps impose over other historical traces, in efect erasing them (cf. Osborne). On the other end of the spectrum of intrusion, Urry identiies the anthropological gaze, employed by tourists who “insist on staying for lengthy periods within the host community in order to get to know it ‘authentically’” (23). In Atlas, the reader does not know exactly how long Ransmayr has been in the place visited within a given episode, let alone (more oten than not, as day, month, or year are never explicitly stated) when the episode takes place. he compulsion for authenticity in the anthropological form of the gaze, commensurate with Struck’s identiication of the tourist gaze’s “Sehnsucht nach Authentizität,” is compromised because, whatever the level of welcome on the part of the “host community” may be, the tourist does not experience the host environment “authentically” as a native (181).6 Yet in his tendency to befriend locals and hear their stories and histories, Ransmayr’s narratedself ventures beyond the spectatorial gaze, perhaps relecting anxieties of cultural encroachment: When compared to active participation in a community (whether human or otherwise), irst-hand observation of an environment can only appear as vicarious experience. Ironically, the compulsion for authenticity constructs borders between the gaze of Ransmayr’s narrator and its objects, in turn adding to his anxiety concerning the authenticity of the human experience writ large. Ransmayr’s narrator is similarly ambivalent about sharing the speciics of his episodes, especially concerning location, time, and Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 61 62 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 images—photographs he sometimes writes about taking but never includes for the reader, a gesture evocative, once again, of Ransmayr’s earlier novels. Osborne cites Silke Horstkote’s identiication of Ransmayr’s “narrative photographs,” which serve as his replacement of the actual image (10).7 Ransmayr mentions mobile phones three times in Atlas: Two of these are cursory observations of others, but in the third instance, he describes an episode in which he secretly photographs another visitor to the Reichstag in Berlin with his phone. In the episode “Parlamentsbesucher,” Ransmayr covertly records the memory of another tourist, in contrast to his frequent avoidance (or narrative elision) of photography in locations with high tourist volume such as in the episode “Gespenster,” in which he watches another tourist taking pictures while he himself abstains. At the Reichstag, Ransmayr does not engage with German history but instead outwardly performs a simulation of conventional visitor behavior and historical intrigue, while internally he is wholly consumed with another visitor who is barefoot and the reactions he causes. He writes: Ich tat, als betrachtete ich bloß das monströse Gebäude, das vor der Schlange mit jedem Schrit, der in ihr getan wurde, höher in den Winterhimmel aufwuchs, blickte mich um wie einer, der, was er sieht, mit seinem Stadtplan, seinen Erwartungen oder Erinnerungen vergleicht, hantierte an der Kamerafunktion meines Mobiltelefons und schielte dabei doch und ebenso verstohlen wie dieser und jener aus der Warteschlange auf den grauen Mann mit den nackten Füßen. Ich würde spät zu meiner Verabredung kommen, aber sein Anblick ließ mich nicht los. (246) hus, to Ransmayr, the conventional city guide map, as well as his expectations and memories in relation to the history of the German government, are rendered invisible to him and to the reader. His gaze also causes him to be late to his next appointment. It is almost as though the traces of history are, in a sense, erased (much as in Ransmayr’s earlier novels) or replaced with this spectacle of a barefoot man at the Reichstag (cf. Osbourne). He even considers the capturing of the barefoot man in a photo image by himself and the others in line to be a sort of thet. He asks himself what reason such an armed and powerful country as Germany could have to fear this man: “Was hate ein gut gerüstetes, von Polizei, Armee und Geheimdienst beschütztes Land, das noch dazu Wafen in solchen Massen produzierte, daß es mitlerweile die Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity drite Stelle unter den größten Wafenexporteuren der Welt einnahm, von einem barfüßigen alten Mann zu fürchten?” (248). He continues to think to himself: “Und mußte man vor den Sicherheitsschleusen die Schuhe nicht ohnedies ausziehen, wenn zirpende Metalldetektoren anders nicht zu beruhigen waren?” (248). his rhetorical question expresses Ransmayr’s disdain for the violent nature of this control society in correlation with the German government, its physical embodiment in this building, and its connection to history. While narrating his thoughts on the Reichstag’s construction, especially its glass dome, Ransmayr falls back on the motif of aviation, of manbecoming-bird-becoming-machine, present also in Morbus Kitahara: “Mehr als eintausend Tonnen wog die scheinbare Leichtigkeit dieser Konstruktion. Ein Flugzeug, das in der Ferne zum Himmel stieg, schien plötzlich im Inneren der Kuppel dahinzudröhnen” (249; cf. Osborne 89). he threatening invasion of the airplane into the glass dome of the Reichstag is coupled with the barefoot man’s barred entry. Ransmayr laments that the barefoot man will only ever see the building from the outside and observes the man who had made a scene about the barefoot visitor: “Barfuß! Sagte der Dicke jetzt fast triumphierend und wie einer, der soeben den Schlüssel entdeckt hate, der einem Menschen nicht nur das Parlament eines Landes, sondern die Gemeinschat der Landesbewohner öfnen—oder ihn davon ausschließen konnte: Barfuß! Weil er barfuß ist” (249). Ransmayr reveals his anxiety over the fading of history when, at one of the most visited tourist atractions in Berlin, he senses a staunch motive of fascistic nationalism (or classism) in the man who calls atention to the outsider. he situation in this episode represents some of the problems that Ransmayr sees in society’s approach to history as well as the violence of its gaze in the perspectival engendering of outsiders. Urry’s prioritization of the gaze in the touristic experience has not been received without criticism. In “Gazing or Performing? Relections on Urry’s Tourist Gaze in the Context of Contemporary Experience in the Antipodes,” Perkins and horns argue that the gaze is only one component of the touristic experience and that Urry’s gazing does not account for the active bodily involvement and physical activity of touristic performance. While they cite Urry’s claim that all travel is performance and acknowledge Urry’s concessions, their argument is that his downplay of performance and overplay of the gaze is reductive. Yet at the same time, taking recent technology into account, their claim that “the gaze metaphor is too passive to encapsulate the full range of touristic experience” (186) in fact does not give the gaze enough credit or Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 63 64 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 consider the extent to which tourism, as a process of consuming, always has a passive component in the spongelike absorption of surroundings. Moreover, as I have argued, emphasis of the visual in tourism has followed the exponential patern of information technologies, which are increasingly woven into the tourism industry. Brown and Chalmers, in “Tourism and Mobile Technology,” consider a wider range of “tourist activity” than either Urry or Perkins and horns: they examine “how tourists both ‘pre-visit’ and ‘post-visit’ places” (336). As they point out, tourists spend considerable time (online) planning activities both before and during their visits to various destinations. It is furthermore obvious that, given the increasing popularity of social media, availability of mobile technology, and improved performance of cellular networks, tourists will spend more time examining the photos of others during the pre-visit phase and sharing and comparing their own images in their après-visit. As can be expected, mobile technologies play an even larger role in planning when tourists are visiting urban setings. Unlike Perkins and horns, who emphasize social class divisions as parameters for tourism, Brown and Chalmers emphasize how almost “all individuals in the western world take some sort of holiday away from home every year, although the number of days difers across and within diferent countries” (336). Ramazani, similarly, argues that as early as modernity, tourism transitioned from an activity of the elite to an expression of ever-more-afordable mass travel (459). Although to an extent Brown and Chalmers are subject to the same criticism that Perkins and horns make of Urry, that he is “too Eurocentric” in his approach (193), more recent studies including that of Kàdàr and Gede show that western paradigms are being imposed on a global scale by way of the World Wide Web. Despite their western focus, Brown and Chalmers, citing Apostolopoulos’s study of touristiication, emphasize that “[t]ourism is also an activity that can divide rich and poor, through a negative or parasitical efect” (336). his danger could perhaps account for some of the anxiety of Ransmayr’s narrator as well as provide some of the reason that Ransmayr refuses conventions of geotagging and other means of orientation in Atlas, at times focusing on the misfortunes and displacements of others (oten homeless), such as the barefoot man at the Reichstag or collective groups of displaced persons. Further socialities theorized by Urry, alongside the spectatorial and anthropological, also ind expression in Ransmayr’s Atlas, which he incidentally derived from his diary: the romantic gaze, in which “solitude, privacy and a Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity personal, semi-spiritual relationship with the object of the gaze are emphasized,” and which occurs in cases when “tourists expect to look at the object privately or at least only with ‘signiicant others’” (19); the reverential (“pilgrimatic”) gaze, “used to describe how, for example, Muslims spiritually consume the sacred site of the Taj Mahal” (20); the environmental (or eco-critical) gaze; and the mediatized gaze. He describes this inal sociality—“the gaze of so-called movie-induced tourism”—as “a collective gaze where particular sites famous for their ‘mediated’ nature are viewed” (20). he mediatized gaze, thus, has much to do with the increasingly visual nature of the tourist experience, as I have previously described. Urry’s description of the mediatized gaze provides apt support for my argument that “mainstreamed” mediations of the tourist gaze construct metaphorical and physical borders that contribute to the narrator’s anxiety in Atlas. Such mediations exacerbate the ambivalence of identity that a traveler such as Ransmayr experiences, both resisting and embodying the various socialities of Urry’s typology. his is even more the case given Ransmayr’s literary ixation with the generational impacts of memory and history as a member of the post-Holocaust generation. Moreover, the inward struggle of identiication with and refusal of certain labels—for example, “tourist” or “adventurer”—further mediates the traveling experience and contributes to the narrator’s anxiety.8 In the episode “Die Übergabe,” as well as in “Pacíico, Atlántico,” Ransmayr’s protagonist observes multiple “Wallfahrer.” Yet he remains in tension with such a generic identity for himself: In “Pacíico, Atlántico,” Ransmayr even describes the “Blick” (297) that the pilgrims have of a volcano (a view he shares without acknowledging it); he is also a passenger on the same “Wallfahrerbus” (296). He paraphrases what one of the Wallfahrer says, implying, in this identiication of the “other,” an opposition to his own belonging to the “pilgrim” identity.9 It appears as though he is using the term Wallfahrer for those around him but not for himself, yet then he introduces a collective we: “Vielleicht, sagte einer der Wallfahrer, ein Lehrer aus Alajuele, als wir im Nebel vom Kraterrand zum Parkplatz zurückgingen, vielleicht würde ich mit der Beobachtung des Quezal in den Tälern von San Gerardo nicht mehr Glück haben als hier oben mit dem großen Blick auf den Paziik, den Atlantik” (297, emphasis added). Nonetheless, this identiication of one of the pilgrims reveals much less idelity than if Ransmayr had identiied him as one of the other pilgrims (thereby including himself among the ranks). In Atlas, the recurring word vielleicht oten signals Ransmayr’s contemplative, mixed Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 65 66 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 feelings.10 Another episode, actually entitled “Wallfahrer,” relects plurality in its title, with its lack of any article signifying either a single pilgrim or plural pilgrims, as the German is the same for the singular and plural: Is this episode about Ransmayr the Wallfahrer, about the minor character Sameera the Wallfahrer, or about them both as two Wallfahrer among others? At any rate, the two of them share a memory; Ransmayr writes: Sosehr sich die Schauplätze von Sameeras und meinem Leben bis zu diesem Augenblick auch voneinander unterschieden haten, so unvermitelt und ausgerechnet zwischen den Resten eines zerstörten Hauses teilten wir plötzlich die Erinnerung an einen Berg, der uns bei der ersten Annäherung als ein von Lichtspuren, Lichtadern durchzogener schwarzer Koloß erschienen war, der zu den Sternen zeigte. (343) he sharing of this memory of a mountain (and their Wallfahrer identity) points to Ransmayr’s experiencing of a sentiment of sonder—realizing, perhaps, that all tourists’ lives are as complex as his own, and that the Wallfahrer identity is communal for travelers in search of meaning. Urry ties the pilgrim igure inextricably to the reverential sociality. In this episode, Ransmayr’s description of Sri Pada features the religious element of the reverential gaze (which Urry also denotes as “pilgrimatic”). He characterizes Sri Pada as the holiest mountain of its country, constructing it as a totem shared by multiple cultures of diverse religious doctrines. Ransmayr writes, “Menschen vier verschiedener Religionen erstiegen diesen Berg, um dankbar oder verzweifelt zu ihren Götern zu beten, aber auch, wenn etwas geschehen war, das ihr Leben in seinen Fundamenten erschütert hate, und sie nach einem neuen Halt suchten, Rat suchten, Ruhe, vielleicht Trost” (341, emphasis added). As for himself, Ransmayr avoids any explicit indication that he, too, was perhaps seeking comfort like these “pilgrims” who climb the mountain, although he is able to muse further about the mountain’s ability to relieve anxiety. He continues: Vielleicht lag ja der Trost dieses Berges tatsächlich darin, daß jeder, der ihn erstieg, ob zur Monsunzeit oder in einer klaren, windstillen Sternenacht, Erinnerungen, Gefühle, Erschüterung, Begeisterung mit so vielen anderen teilen konnte, die sich gemeinsam mit ihm und vielleicht aus ähnlichen Gründen auf den Weg gemacht haten. (347, emphasis added) Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity he ambivalence that marks Ransmayr’s relationship to the Wallfahrer label also characterizes his relationships to the identities indicated in the titles of the episodes “Parlamentsbesucher” and “Der Schreiber,” in which Ransmayr observes a particular parliament visitor and a particular writer, while ironically also embodying these identities himself. Previously “caught between a contemporary espousal of postmodernist gestures and a nostalgic or melancholic atachment to modernist ones,” in Osborne’s words, Ransmayr is still “bound to ‘the longer history of modernity’ and relects the diiculties of writing ater 1945,” (9) but now must reposition himself in what might become a post-postmodernist (or post-postHolocaust) engagement with an evolved version of the same diiculties. In a review of Osborne’s Traces of Trauma, Lynn Wolf emphasizes that “the identity position of these authors [Ransmayr and Sebald]—the fact that they were born ater the Second World War—marks their works with a certain belatedness” (254, emphasis in original). hus, while he negotiated in his previous works “between personal and historical trauma,” (Osborne 31) Ransmayr must in Atlas consider the lingering efects of such historical belatedness for yet-further-removed generations, especially as the exactitude of preserved memory threatens to fade over time. 2. Perspective (and Mediations of Technology) As I turn now to the perspective of the gaze and its impact on mediation, I emphasize the “powerful ‘compulsion to proximity’ that makes [the] travel seem absolutely necessary” (Urry 20). What Urry expresses here is a traditional touristic trope: one of the ironies inherent in travel is that this proximity to nature or to an environment is compromised by various sorts of mediation (even in the anthropological gaze, Urry’s most “authentic” touristic sociality). In a review of Ransmayr’s Atlas entitled “Am Ende der Entdeckungen,” Andreas Breitenstein focuses, like Struck in “Der Blick eines Touristen,” on the borders between “Natur und Zivilisation” (1). Breitenstein argues that these borders become blurred, that they “verschwimmen” (1). However, when one atends to the mediated nature of the gaze, these blurred and pressed borders between humanity and nature come into perspectival focus. Osborne tellingly notes Ransmayr’s push for publication of the manuscript of Sebald’s long poem Nach der Natur (7). With consideration of Ransmayr’s Die Schrecken and Strahlender Untergang: Ein Entwässerungsprojekt oder Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 67 68 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Die Entdeckung des Wesentlichen, Osborne argues that Ransmayr shares the “apocalyptic vision evoked in the title of Ater Nature,” namely “his skepticism towards the idea of human progress” (8). hus, notions of impending apocalypse in Ransmayr’s writings concern a discourse of destruction between human and nature, in which “natural” disasters incurred by humanity’s usurpation of the environment in turn wipe out communities without a trace. In Ransmayr’s Atlas, the narrator’s gaze is mediated on endless levels, down to the very narrations of the gaze. By dint of its autobiographical mode, this narrative is retrospective. Emphasizing the third syllable of retro-spect, one understands that the act of narration of the past employs a cognitive process of spectating one’s memories. Like both the natural and the artiicial spaces mediated by Ransmayr’s gazing perspective, separating the viewer from the viewed, retrospection on the part of the narrating self involves mediation of the gaze and a struggle of temporal orientation. Time’s mediation of the narrative gaze is analogous to the mediation of the tourist gaze by a viewing instrument—in particular, when the means of mediation literally (spatially) distance the viewer from the observed object. Appropriate especially to the Medusa episode that I shall discuss later, Juta Landa notes associations between Ransmayr’s “cold gaze” and Versteinerung (petriication) in the descriptions of critical reception of Morbus Kitahara (136). Landa argues that intense mediation occurs within Ransmayr’s gaze in this work. She writes, “As the postmodernist literary tourist par excellence Ransmayr claims to adopt in his works a telescopic vision,” described by Herbert Ohrling in Die Presse as “der Blick durch die Optik eines Fernglass, in dem Dinge, die in Wirklichkeit nahe beeinander sind, noch näher zusammenrücken” (Landa 138, 144). Noting that such a gaze “fragments cohesion and continuity,” Landa shows that “perceptual holes” mediate meaning in Ransmayr’s writing (138). Reading Morbus Kitahara, Landa argues that Ransmayr “posits the danger of staring at a spectacle until the gaze refracts of the object and literally and iguratively burns a hole into the beholder’s retina” (138). he self-inlicted damage of the postmodern gaze, which was the “fractured and perforated [ . . . ] organizing principle” of Morbus Kitahara, shits increasingly to the belated efects of memory in Atlas, in the narrator’s retrospective relationship to his gazing self (Landa 138). In an interview with Ransmayr, Norbert Mayer questions the author about the gaze that he portrays in Atlas. When asked, “Ist dieser Blick für Sie auch schrecklich?” Ransmayr responds with an answer that does not exactly Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity convey whether this gaze is indeed terrible for him as for others but instead emphasizes mankind’s state of confrontation with absolute borders: Das Konfrontiertsein mit der absoluten Grenze der sichtbaren Welt, mit dem Ende aller Worte und aller Sprache, mit einem Raum, in dem nur noch mathematische Formeln Beschreibungen ersetzen können, ist immer auch mit dem Schrecken über die Ungeheuerlichkeit jenes Rätsels verbunden, warum es—wie die Philosophen immer wieder gefragt haben—überhaupt etwas gibt und nicht vielmehr nichts. (1)11 According to Ransmayr, absolute borders are mediated (or, in Breitenstein’s term, blurred) by the gaze. Ransmayr continues: “Es gibt wohl kein Bild in der Tiefe des Raumes, das nicht auch etwas Beklemmendes hat, etwas, das einen zwingt, weit, weit über die eigenen Grenzen, auch das eigene Leben hinauszudenken” (1). Ransmayr suggests that there is no picture in the vastness of space that does not, also, when it comes under the gaze, contain something “nightmarish” that compels the viewer to think beyond absolute borders, including those of one’s own life. A liminal zone is entered—the borders are approached or perhaps even transgressed—in the struggle for orientation within the traveling gaze. his is also the case in the world of narration, as in Ransmayr’s narrating role, where one notes that the borders of irst- and secondhand experience and the signiicance of mathematical precision fade away (he admits in the preface that one of the episodes describes a place that he has never visited, as its narrative is constructed from his wife’s descriptions), adding to the disquietude of Atlas. Before any possibility of crossing the absolute border (of the visible world) of which Ransmayr speaks, a tourist or adventurer must irst approach or perceive such a border, discerning it in his or her gaze. I will now, therefore, examine the way in which artiicial devices mediate perception of the narrated gaze in Atlas. Reminiscent of Urry’s modes of sociality, Struck presents a particular arrival scene in Carmen Stephan’s novel Mal Aria as a collection of stereotypes that problematizes the igure of the tourist. he scene involves the clichéd gesture of a camera’s “Klick, klick,” which, Struck argues, relects a “Sehnsucht nach Authentizität” (181). Struck claims further that the gesture of photography redirects the gaze towards a never-reachable future: “jene Zukunt, wo man endlich die Fotos sortiert und in einem Album eingeklebt haben wird” (181). In other words, the gesture of photography shits Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 69 70 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 the gaze forward in a direction opposite to the orientation of narrative retrospection. Struck describes another function of the camera, however, that distances the gaze not only temporally but also spatially. He explains that the camera “arms” the photographer with (sometimes false) convictions of invincibility and empowerment, expressed by the sentiment “Mir kann nichts passieren,” such that one is “weder bereit noch in der Lage, sich einzulassen, einzutauchen in die Fremde” (181). he camera’s lens relects (and refracts) the tension between universality and singularity in the juxtaposition of man and nature (“Auseinandersetzung des Menschen mit der Natur”), as well as the desire for authenticity (“Sehnsucht nach Authentizität”), encouraging the observer’s ambivalence between identiication with and renouncement of the stereotypical tourist identity (Struck 181). he mediating function of the camera follows a tradition of literary representation, permeated by mediation—not only between universal and individual, but also in the divide between irst- and secondhand natures of experience. For example, in Heinrich Böll’s short story “Anekdote zur Senkung der Arbeitsmoral” (1963), the touristic protagonist photographs a dozing isherman with a similar “Klick” to the one in Stephan’s Mal Aria. In Böll’s story, the tourist’s photographing initiates a conversation in which he redirects the gaze toward the future (as described by Struck), contriving a hypothetical, secondhand experience of the isherman’s life as it could potentially play out. In the Atlas episode “Ein Fotograf,” Ransmayr himself is clearly not the photographer—instead, he is the observer of another observer. He narrates three clicks, just as in Böll’s story, although in his case they are silent rather than intrusively loud. He writes: “Der Straßenarbeiter hielt die Kamera mit ausgestreckten Armen vor seiner Brust wie eine Monstranz und drückte einen unhörbaren Auslöser. Noch einmal, ein zweites Bild! Die Frau wollte sichergehen. Auf der Stirn des Fotografen glänzten Schweißperlen. Noch ein unhörbares Klick” (292, emphasis in original). he issue of irst- and secondhand perspective is problematized on two levels: he lens of the camera symbolically represents the issue, and observing another person photographing, rather than taking pictures oneself, mediates the object of the photographic gaze on another (narrative) level. his form of mediation presented by problems of irst- and secondhand experience occurs in other scenarios in which Ransmayr gazes at others. It also accentuates the tensions between Ransmayr’s identities as adventurer, observer, and tourist. Among all the objects that mediate the perspective of the gaze in Atlas, Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity the telescope is perhaps the most ironic, because its ‘distancing’ efect (to borrow Struck’s term) is created by the illusion of closeness. Telescopes receive more widespread atention in Atlas than cameras or any other mediating artiicial lens, suggesting a merging of what Landa calls Ransmayr’s “telescopic vision” with what Horstkote calls his “narrative photographs.” Ransmayr refers to his personal telescopes more than thirty times throughout the various episodes of Atlas as either “Fernglas,” “Teleskop,” or “Fernrohr.” In addition to enhancing perception of the gazed-upon object, the telescope alters the experience of the gazer and the object of the gaze (like other artiicial lenses of mediation in Atlas, including the camera).12 he issues of proximity and authenticity resulting from the employment of mediating lenses contribute to the mood of anxiety: How authentic is a tourist’s experience of an extreme environment if it is observed from afar through a telescope? In terms of Struck’s argument for the Blick as “bewafnet,” it is worth noting Sigmund Freud’s theory for what Urry refers to as the “privileging of the eye within the history of western societies,” (127) as discussed earlier. In his famous 1919 essay “he ‘Uncanny,’” Freud relates the eyes to (castration) anxiety. In his examination of E.T.A. Hofmann’s Der Sandmann, Freud inds that Hofmann encourages the reader to look through Coppola’s glass instruments with the protagonist Nathanael. Following the logic of contiguity explained in Freud’s article “Fetishism” (1927), one could argue that, if the eyes symbolize the testicles, then the telescope might in turn symbolize a phallus, completing the ocular metaphor for male genitalia. his somewhat stretched appropriation of Freudian fetishism is inluenced by Freud’s designation of Coppola’s instrument as a Taschenperspektive that is constructed to place in one’s pocket. Returning to Struck’s terminology, one sees how Nathanael’s gaze is “bewafnet” with this extra appendage. In a review of Osborne’s Traces of Trauma, Mark McCollough encourages the reader to determine the relevance of Osborne’s persistent use of Freudian theory in the analysis of Sebald and Ransmayr’s works, noting that these are “consistent throughout and backed up by copious citations of Freud and related secondary sources” (151). he identiication of the telescope as a phallic power symbol relects the distancing function of the gaze (according to Struck, Ransmayr “arms” himself with this “weapon”). One sees how the use of a telescope might alleviate some of the anxiety connected to limitations of the eye and of the gaze, but on the other hand, consciousness of this limitation might also cause anxiety. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 71 72 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 In Atlas, the telescope is signiicant to the gaze not only in psychoanalytical but also in poetic terms. In the episode “Die Schönheit der Finsternis,” Ransmayr’s narrator has in fact two telescopes at his disposal: a “Spiegeltelskop” and a “Linsenteleskop.” It is interesting that Ransmayr’s novel Die Schrecken (1984) signals the terrors of ice and darkness, whereas this Atlas episode’s title announces the beauty of darkness. he episode is highly charged with the ocular motif, including the names of galaxies: Black Eye Galaxy and Evil Eye Galaxy. he motif of the gaze is expounded in such language as “Sternbild”—a more image-oriented and perception-centered word than its English equivalent, “constellation.” Ransmayr continues to describe his telescopic observations of constellations and galaxies: Im Okular erschien ihre Ellipse wie ein leuchtendes, von einem dunklen Lid verhängtes Auge, das sich eben zu öfnen—oder zu schließen schien. Allein die Länge des Augenlids, eines sichelförmigen Bandes aus dunkler Materie, Gasschleiern und Sternenstaub, sollte mehr als füntausend Lichtjahre betragen: auch dieses Maß galt als umstriten. Ich luchte. (192) he unfathomability of ive thousand light years—despite mathematical measurability—indicates a blurring of the borders between the inite and the ininite.13 Furthermore, the quasi-deconstruction of physical borders by the telescope connects the gaze’s anxiety in terms of precise orientation to the mediated nature of the gaze. Once again, as in the irst episode of Atlas, which Ransmayr opens with GPS coordinates (only to frustrate this expectation thereater), measurements are a means of orientation but do not dispel the anxiety of disorientation inherent in travel. Ransmayr struggles with the capriciousness of Mother Nature in a “collision space” (to borrow Struck’s term once again) of sorts when he employs these two telescopes. He describes the added hindrance of atmospheric turbulences, forcing him to adjust the mirrors and lenses of his telescopes (Ransmayr 192). Here, nature interferes with the perspective ofered by his mechanized forms of mediated observation, much as, we shall see, artiicial presences also interfere with his gaze. In this episode, Ransmayr’s position on the edge of a mountain range reveals his physical location, too, as a space of collision between man and nature—in this case, the mountain range is a more extreme manifestation of nature than its edge, and Ransmayr thus inds himself siting on a border. He writes: Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity Ich saß in dieser Nacht der Sommersonnenwende auf einer weiten Lichtung des Hochwaldes am Rand des oberösterreichischen Höllengebirges unter einem mondlosen, von Sternen übersäten Himmel hinter meinen Teleskopen und luchte so laut, daß die Verwünschungen von einer Mauer schwarzer Bergichten zurückschlugen. (192, emphasis added) Ransmayr oten inds himself in such border situations, as relected by the title of another episode, “Am Rand der Wildnis.” he presence of a nearby artiicial light in “Die Schönheit der Finsternis,” which provokes his rage, indicates that he is in an area of lesser authentic extremity, in which nature is mediated by humanity: Ich hate in dieser milden Sommernacht bereits die Areale des Skorpions und des Schlangengeträgers und dort Doppelsterne, Kugelsternhaufen und planetarische Nebel angesteuert und war dabei allmählich und einmal mehr in Wut darüber geraten, daß eine Seilbahnstation auf einem gegenüberliegenden Bergkamm von einer Scheinwerferbaterie in gleißendes Licht getaucht wurde. (193) He continues to complain that this spotlight obstructs his view of the universe, causing the stars, which would otherwise shine like diamonds, to appear to him dull and faded. He also describes a bird that passes by, crossing through the path of his telescope lens, thereby transformed into “ein konturloses, sternfressendes Monster,” albeit a monster that “mit freiem Augen ebensowenig zu sehen war wie von einer fernen Galixis” (196). his monstrosity formed by the bird’s shadow, just as invisible to the naked eye as a distant galaxy, conjures the “shadow of the bird-man,” to borrow a title of another of Ransmayr’s episodes. A leitmotif emphasized especially in Morbus Kitahara, the bird-man represents Ranmayr’s engagement with mankind’s Deleuzean becoming-machine, according to Osborne. he shadow of the bird in the episode examined here atends to the machinic nature of the human Blick as mediated by artiicial devices. Goggles are a third artiicial lens that mediates the gaze in Ransmayr’s Atlas. Struck devotes much of his analysis of Atlas to the episode “In der Tiefe,” in which Ransmayr gazes through diving goggles.14 Drawing from Ransmayr’s description of the “Bühne des Lebens der Buckelwale,” Struck asserts that observation through the goggles constructs a “Bühnenkonstellation” (Rans- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 73 74 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 mayr 124, Struck 190). In this “Bühnenkonstellation” the diving goggles and the ocean surface create the perspectival frame of observation. According to Struck, however, this frame ultimately fails at separating stage and audience. He argues that the deconstruction of this frame takes place because the whales, like the mosquito in Stephan’s Mal Aria, “sich [ . . . ] nicht an die Regeln des heaters halten und die Bühnengrenze überschreiten” (190). Struck distinguishes Ransmayr’s text based on the anxiety of the narrator, for whom the distance between observation space and stage dissolves. He writes: “Allerdings zeichnet sich diese Übertretung bei Ransmayr, anders als bei Stephan, bereits vor dem Autauchen des Wals ab in der Angst des Betrachters, dass die Distanz des Beobachtungsdispositivs aufgehoben werden, die Diferenz von Bühne und Zuschauerraum oder die Tarnung des Voyeurs zusammenbrechen könnte” (191). In the reciprocity of gazes, when the whale returns Ransmayr’s, the “border” between worlds seems to collapse. However, this collapse is based on a postulatory “vielleicht,” as in many other Atlas episodes. For Struck, what remains is the recognition that man and whale share a space—a border—between gazer and gazed-upon, man and nature. But do they really “share” this space? Is the sharing of the space not merely an illusion granted to the swimmer by the diving goggles that mediate his experience? Without the mediation of the mask, the recognition of the shared space achieved through eye contact with a whale would perhaps not be achieved in the irst place, as Ransmayr would have been unable to see as clearly underwater, his vision blurred. Furthermore, to what extent is this “border” actual and not merely a construct? It is obvious that Ransmayr does not naturally belong in this environment and could not survive “in der Tiefe” and that even his presence on the surface of the water without a boat would be limited to a few days at most. he whales, on the other hand, naturally occupy both the water and the air above the surface. Camera, telescope and diving goggles all enhance observation, but also distance and de-authenticate the gaze. he “violence” of the three devices (a camera “shoots” a photo, the telescope ‘arms’ its owner, and the whale “blows up” the frame of the ocean in Ransmayr’s perception through the lens of the goggles) suggests that they all lessen the authenticity of perspective through their mediation of the object of the gaze. Recalling Urry’s anthropological gaze, the degree of involvement in the space of visitation requires a greater personal investment than other modes of sociality. he mediation provided by the lens of the diving goggles allows Ransmayr to conceive of a shared spa- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity ce; whale and man do share a border zone, but there is an illusion of crossing this border—that a certain absolute has been dissolved, when in fact it has not—instead, it has been “blurred” like the vision that represents Ransmayr’s engagements with history and memory. he “border” is not a natural part of the environment but an artiicial construct brought about by human presence in the ocean. his is the gesture of the tourist gaze: In its mediated perspective, through time, space, and devices, there exists an illusion of crossing borders, but the illusion is only temporary and sometimes only possible with the application of mediating technology. Ransmayr describes a second “lens” in this maritime episode—that of the ocean—which also distorts. He writes: “Die Walkuh schwamm auf die von der Linse des Ozeans verzerrten Bilder von Kumulusstürmen” (127). It is strange, then, that Ransmayr is able to estimate at the beginning of this episode a depth of thirty meters that separates him from the whale, because the lens of the ocean distorts not only the clouds but also depth perception: from above the surface, he seeks to determine the blurred creature’s depth. Ransmayr also describes how the eyes of any whale allow for a simultaneous reception of two diferent pictures—“gleichzeitig zwei verschiedene Welten” (128). He continues to describe the whale’s gaze as if he can read it: Die Riesin sah mich an, nein: streite mich mit ihrem Blick und änderte dann ihren Kurs um einen Hauch, gerade so viel, daß wir einander nicht berührten. Aber obwohl sie mir mit dieser Andeutung einer Seitwärtsbegegnung auswich und damit mein Dasein immerhin wahrnahm und anerkannte, glaubte ich in ihrem Blick eine so abgrundtiefe Gleichgültigkeit zu sehen. . . . (128) he whale then breaks through the “Meeresspiegel,” crossing the border of the ocean surface and blowing water into the air. Ransmayr writes that the whale’s breath reaches “in meine Welt” (128). Yet is this breach truly reaching into Ransmayr’s world? It would depend on the interpretation of “meine Welt”: Is this Ransmayr’s world of reality, of experiential perception? Is it the entire world, which is, indeed, Ransmayr’s world just as much as the whale’s? Or does Ransmayr appropriate the area above the border of the ocean surface as his own, when truly this space belongs to nature and he is merely a visitor? It seems the whale reaches into Ransmayr’s ‘world’ not only physically but also metaphorically. At any rate, the illusion created by the mediated perspective of the tourist gaze problematizes authenticity, such that goggles Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 75 76 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 allow Ransmayr to ‘enter’ the whale’s world. However, he does not truly belong to it, as revealed by the indiference that his imagination projects into the whale’s gaze. 3. Orientation and Angst he anxious man of Ransmayr’s Atlas seeks to orient himself retrospectively for the reader while maintaining integrity in the face of memory’s distortions. In “Fractured Vision in Ransmayr,” Landa argues that “[i]n spite of this quest for authenticity, architectural space in Ransmayr’s novels is slightly askew and thus strangely disorienting to the reader who atempts as part of the reading process to construct a familiar world” (16, emphasis added). Like the reader of Morbus Kitahara, the reader of Atlas atempts such constructions more or less in vain, unless they apprehend Ransmayr’s profered alternative to conventional expectations of narrative continuity, genre, and orientation. Such an alternative is to be found in its intertextualities with Ransmayr’s other works, and allusions to writers such as Benjamin, Freud, and Deleuze (if Osborne’s arguments of his previous novels hold for Atlas as well, which is strongly indicated), to mythology, and to other literary works. By refusing straightforward guidance and remaining at what Hammarfelt aptly characterizes as the border of chartability, Ransmayr’s “atlas” bittersweetly denies orientation for any reader-as-tourist. Ransmayr necessitates a more intimate readership. Brown and Chalmers write that the “two most quintessential tourist publications are the guidebook and the map” (343). hey reveal the profound extent to which tourists depend on these two documents for orientation.15 hey further point out that games like “geo-caching” are becoming more popular for tourists, and Kádár and Gede note that “[m] ore and more photo-sharing sites let their users supplement their pictures with ‘geotags,’ that is, tags with geographical relevance” (79). Kádár and Gede discuss the signiicance of geotags for the tourist’s memories: that “the site of a particular memory becomes easy to remember, and images from speciic locations visited during a journey easy to recall” (80). Ransmayr’s nearcomplete refusal of geotags resists the development of visualizations and “photo-maps” that allow companies to analyze and capitalize on predictable tourist photo-behaviors. Furthermore, Ransmayr’s exclusion of geotags, time stamps, and photographs bars his reader from either visually representing or physically following his photographic itinerary, a possibility other narratives Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity allow, such as Ilija Trojanow’s 2011 book EisTau, an ice narrative that takes an alternate approach to the problem of humanity’s (self-)destructive power. Ransmayr seeks to undermine the notion of the representability or mappability of nature, both in earlier works and in Atlas. Osborne suggests that movement through the Arctic wasteland in Die Schrecken is an act of charting and of “inscribing the subject in relation to his environment” but that paradoxically the snowscape expands “beyond the limits of representation” (50). Osborne sees Mazzini’s explorations in Ransmayr’s novel as making the world larger rather than smaller for him, “so large that he inally disappeared in it” (50).16 Ransmayr uses the snowscape’s capacity both to preserve and to erase human traces “strategically in order to show the tension between deinitive (and implicitly violent) acts of separation and more persistent return” (Osborne 50). In a similar gesture (as I shall discuss), snow in Atlas permits footprints to trace one’s path back but also threatens to cover them up. For Osborne, Ransmayr’s relationship with snowy mountains is an allegory of his relationship with his homeland: His “love of travel and mountainous landscapes is indicative of a more ambivalent relationship to place, signaling both an atachment to his native Austria and his desire to escape it,” which in turn creates a tension “between his ‘would be postmodern rootlessness and visible rootedness’” (9). Returning in nine episodes within Atlas to his home country of Austria, Ransmayr relects in new ways what Osborne identiies in his previous works as the inscribed desire for escape and apparent inevitable return. In this ambivalent relationship to homeland, Ransmayr also responds to “a desire to cast of the burden of history” (Osborne 9). Ramazani shows in “Poetry and Tourism in a Global Age” that global literature as an analogue for tourism creates an ambiguous relationship to the homeland’s analogue for national literature, pointing out, at the same time, that “under globalization, even a ‘home’ or ‘homeland’ is a site where ‘foreign’ products, images, and ideas meet” (461). Ransmayr’s Atlas transcribes this approach to history and homeland into its allegory of man as tourist, with technology imposing on his gaze in the construction of borders between himself and nature. For Osborne, Die Schrecken “oscillates between [these] two positions in relation to traces, on the one hand using them as a means of recuperating loss and on the other using their eradication in the service of ‘aus der Welt schafen’” (51). Whereas, in Die Schrecken (as well as in Morbus Kitahara) “aus der Welt schaffen” seems to dominate over the recuperation of loss, Atlas remains in the state of questioning. While in previous works erasure “encapsulates Ransmayr’s Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 77 78 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 narrative engagement with questions of topography, speciically, with the inscription of the subject in overwhelming spatial conditions,” (51) in Atlas one inds within the narrative’s reconstructive drive a more concrete return than in Die Schrecken, which “closes with only dispersed traces and without a body, so the case of the ice-man remains open” (51). Ransmayr’s Atlas ofers narrative orientation in spite of the limits of retrospective precision in its production of meaning. Ransmayr as narrator determines this meaning in his retrospection, even as he withholds conventional means of way-inding. he designation as an “atlas” also promises some form of orientation: he atlas structure presents Ransmayr’s narrative as seventy distinct episodes that hold their own signiicance and can be read in any order, much like the collection of maps ofered in any atlas. However, Atlas as a whole acquires its own signiicance when the episodes are read in combination. Struck argues that Ransmayr’s goals include “eine Auseinandersetzung mit dem Atlas als dem Medium der Georeferentialisierbarkeit seit der frühen Neuzeit, und als der Kulturthechnik des looking at” (190). According to Struck, the “Ich sah” that begins each of the episodes deines the touristic writing project as one constituted by “Blickkonstellationen” (190). He maintains that in the constellations of the gaze, compass coordinates are deprecated: heir appearance in the irst episode raises the reasonable but conspicuously unfulilled expectation that the other episodes will be similarly “georeferentiell.” Nonetheless, leitmotifs present themselves with some consistency throughout Ransmayr’s work, contributing to its narrative wholeness. hese sometimes appear in successive episodes, and in other instances in episodes that are separated by hundreds of pages but are in some other way thematically contiguous. he motifs are furthermore an alternative to a traditional organizing principle for an atlas, such as geographical or temporal sequence. If one does indeed begin with the irst episode, then one reads: “Ich sah die Heimat eines Gotes auf 26º28’ südlicher Breite und 105º21’ westlicher Länge . . .” (11). Following this irst sentence, in which coordinates are provided, the second sentence indicates another numerical measurement (“dreitausendzweihundert Kilometer”), but this number is only an approximation. Struck emphasizes above all the formulation that appears between the two numbers: “weit, weit draußen im Paziik” (Struck 189). He argues that this formulation addresses the sensation of distance much beter than the numerical coordinates, concluding: “Insofern ist die ungenaueste Angabe zugleich die anschaulichste, und deshalb wird der Atlas auch auf weitere GPS-Koordinaten verzichten” (189). Al- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity though Ransmayr abandons the use of GPS coordinates ater the irst sentence, the struggle between precision and approximation continues throughout Atlas in other formulations. As suggested by the title of Hammarfelt’s essay, “Literatur an der Grenze der Kartierbarkeit,” Atlas inds itself at the border of “chartability.” She writes that Ransmayr’s text moves (like the other literary examples she provides) “gatungstechnisch in einem Grenzland—hier zwischen Autobiographie, Erzählband, Reisebericht und Reportage—und ein Vorzug des Kartographischen scheint gerade darin zu bestehen, dass es verschiedene Dimensionen zu vereinen vermag” (68). Hammarfelt’s description of this genre-technical movement in a “borderland”17 suggests a reason for the narrator’s anxiety— the movement between autobiography, narrative, travelogue, diary, episodic series, and novel-like continuity18 highlights a refusal of absolute narrative “orientation,” instead vouching for generic plurality. In “Die Welt ist voller Wunder,” her review of Atlas, Gisela von Wysocki points out that its generic form relects a “hyperaktives Formbewusstsein,” suggesting a consciousness of multiple narrative forms (1). As previously discussed, retrospective narration also plays a role in the struggle for orientation relected formally in Atlas. By eschewing explicit temporal (and spatial) indicators, Ransmayr keeps the sense of orientation an atlas should provide from ever becoming consolidated. As Osborne notes, Ransmayr’s texts “resist genre categories, blurring the boundaries between history and memory, fact and iction” (8). Ransmayr’s nine visits to Austria in Atlas, for example, may or may not appear in their true historical-temporal order and deny engagement with the theme of homeland. he observation of Hale-Bopp comet in a southwestern United States desert is the one of the closest approximations of chronological time, followed by the earthquake in Greece, which may or may not have been the one that occurred in 1986. he narrator’s observation of would-be orienting celestial bodies such as stars, human indices such as footprints, or way-markers such as cairns sometimes contributes to, rather than dispels, the anxious mood. Discrepancies or variations in the reporting of numbers is another key leitmotif in Atlas. Ransmayr begins the episode “Gespenster,” for example: “Ich sah Gespenster. Es waren sieben, nein: acht! Nahezu gestaltlos, baumhoch, turmhoch und dicht nebeneinander wirbelten sie über eine der Lava- und Steinwüsten, die das zentrale, menschenleere Hochplateau Islands bedeckten” (Ransmayr 50). A similar interjection ostensibly correcting an erroneous number also occurs in “Mädchen in Gewiter,” in which Ransmayr Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 79 80 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 writes, “Ich sah ein sechsjähriges, nein: siebenjähriges Mädchen . . .” (441). he luctuating numbers reveal that the gaze must approximate (or perhaps it exaggerates), while paradoxically also striving for exactness. In “Tod in Sevilla,” Ransmayr guesses “fünf oder sechs Pferdelängen” (44), and in “Umbettung” he second-guesses himself in his description of Isla Robinsón Crusoe’s location relative to himself (113), deciding on seven hundred meters rather than six hundred. In the previously examined episode “In der Tiefe,” as well, Ransmayr guesses whether the whale calf is ive or six meters long (126). Such instances of an adding of one digit can be found throughout Atlas alongside other leitmotifs. In the episode “Gespenster,” the orienting markers that Ransmayr and his companions follow reveal a history. He describes how ancient way-markers are merged with the new paths: “Wir waren uralten, seit Jahrhunderten befahrenen, aber auch längst aufgegebenen, von neuen Pistenführungen ersetzten Routen gefolgt” (51). Although the ancient markers have been replaced by new trails, Ransmayr recognizes their humble origins. Such “Wegzeichen” in Atlas are at times a crucial aspect for Ransmayr’s sense of orientation. hey ofer a pivot for his metaphorical musings about the “trail” that a world tourist travels. he irony of the way-markers is manifest in his commentary on a tourist who photographs the markers, rather than using them for their original, pragmatic intention—the same tourist who misses the ghostly plumes of smoke that rise and then vanish again. he markers are also ghosts—of a time when orientation, in many ways, was simpler. “Mädchen im Wintergewiter” reveals our dependency on unreliable markers by showing how snow allows for a trail of footprints as arbitrarily as it covers it again. In the episode “Der Untote,” Ransmayr describes the sensation of following his own traces in the snow. He writes, “Vom Tor des Mausoleums führte nach wie vor keine andere als unsere eigene Spur hinaus auf den beschneiten Platz. In dieser Spur schriten wir, steif vor Kälte und wortlos, als gehorchen wir immer noch dem Schweigebefehl eines Totenwächters, in die Welt der Lebenden zurück” (243). Ransmayr acknowledges that the space he has visited is one to which he does not belong, and the reader notices that, without these traces (for example, if it had continued to snow), Ransmayr might have goten lost. his inal recognition relects the anxiety associated with orientation and traces; the anxiety lies in the possibility that the (historical) traces one has let behind earlier to follow back might vanish, and also that one might, oneself, disappear without a trace. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity he anxiety of vanishing furthermore relects the fate of displaced people and of dying cultures, as well as the larger, ultimate fate of humanity. Just as pronounced as Ransmayr’s anxiety concerning his own vanishing is his solemn reverence of both loved ones and entire communities who vanish beneath the waves of natural disaster. In the episode “Wallfahrer,” Ransmayr writes of how his friend Sameera’s relatives vanished without a trace (spurlos) beneath the force of a tsunami: “Unter den Toten waren auch eine seiner Schwestern, die Muter seiner Frau und zwei seiner Brüder, die, wie so viele andere Opfer, spurlos in der Flut verschwunden waren” (337–38). In “Ein Schaten der Retung” (a further leitmotif, “shadow” igures in the titles of two other episodes), Ransmayr again contemplates possibilities of humans vanishing without a trace: Denn daß Fischerboote, ja ganze Konvois spurlos verschwinden konnten . . . daß Trawler im Sturm kenterten, gegen Rife trieben, leck schlugen oder auseinanderbrachen und zum Meeresgrund sanken, ohne etwas anderes als Ölspuren zu hinterlassen, und daß die Hütten und windschiefen Häuser der Armen von Port Louis sich unter der Gewalt des Windes einfach in die Lut erhoben, während die fest gebauten Häuser der Reichen jedem Unweter standhielten—alles das folgte den Gesetzen eines Zyklons, aber daß die Besatzung eines gutausgerüsteten Schifes, das seiner Mannschat doch besseren Schutz vor einem Orkan bieten konnte als jede Fischerhüte auf festem Land, einfach verschwand, blieb ein Rätsel, durch das sich King Fish allmählich in ein Geisterschif zu verwandeln begann. (234–35) As in other cases in the Atlas, the wealthy class of society is at the least risk of disaster and displacement, and the poor are at the greatest risk of devastation. here is an interesting tension here between a igure of speech describing vanishing without a trace (spurlos) and the traces let behind by the oil, hinting that traces (and history) also exist where none are perceived (as also with a ghost ship on the ocean’s loor). Orientation is the process of inding one’s place relative to one’s surroundings. he gaze must turn away from one seting, always leaving something behind as one is reoriented with a new viewpoint. Departing from one place to move on to the next is one mark of an itinerant world traveler. In the irst episode, “Fernstes Land,” Ransmayr considers the “gaze” of Easter Island’s Moai statues. He discusses how, by gazing “ins Landesinnere und damit viel- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 81 82 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 leicht sogar ins Innerste ihrer Bewohner” the Moais were placed with their backs to the sea. Gazing involves an anxiety of sacriiced opportunity—in focusing the gaze on one image, one forfeits the chance to observe another (15). Near the end of Atlas, in the episode “Im Schaten des Vogelmannes,” the gaze of the Moais comes under Ransmayr’s own gaze. In both episodes taking place on Easter Island, the Moais connect “die Gegenwart mit der Ewigkeit,” their gazes playing with concepts of death, relection, and eternity (15). In “Im Schaten des Vogelmannes,” Ransmayr observes that the Moais direct their obsidian eyes, now and forever, “niemals in die Weite, niemals gegen den Wasserhorizont, sondern stets nur ins Innere der Insel” (401). Tellingly, microbiologists such as Frank Fenner have recently likened the fate of humanity at large, given our paterns of consumption, to the phenomenon of Easter Island. Ransmayr perhaps anticipates mankind’s downfall as well, in this episode whose title evokes Morbus Kitahara’s bird-man motif. Like the Moais, who turn their backs to the sea to watch over the islanders and who, perhaps, mirror Ransmayr’s touristic emotions, and like Ransmayr, too, the photographer he describes in the episode “Gespenster” must turn his back—yet this refocusing also relects a certain blindness. Preoccupied with his tripod, the touristic photographer turns his back to Ransmayr and the “ghosts.” Ransmayr calls to him, “schnell!, dort!,” but he is not fast enough to redirect his gaze toward the swirling plumes. he episodes “Der Untote” and “Anglerin,” among others, relect anxiety concerning what is lost in the gaze when one must turn one’s back (on nature), because a tourist seeks to gain rich experiences of places he or she visits but must ultimately leave. 4. Conclusion he Moais are the sole witnesses of their creators’ demise; the natives of the island expired without leaving any other trace. Yet even the seemingly eternal Moais relect temporal limitation in their gaze, because, as Ransmayr notes, they will eventually decay like those that have already fallen. Ransmayr writes, “Auch entlang der von hohem Gras überwucherten Prozessionsstraßen standen und lagen Moais, als seien sie von ihren Schöpfern an einem einzigen Tag für immer verlassen und so von Symbolen der Macht zu bloßen Meilensteinen des Verschwindens geworden” (409). Calling to mind the sole Moai that has been taken from the island and that now stands in a British museum, Ransmayr turns his back to the stone wall that he is observing Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity and continues on his way (Ransmayr spent many years living living in West Cork, although he now resides in Austria, and this incidental mention of a British museum relects his tenuous relationship to Heimat; cf. Osborne 9). Ransmayr evades conceptual engagement with his own homeland in Atlas, especially in the episodes that take place in Austria. Even as he evokes the Heimat of mythological gods and of the natives he meets during his travels (such as when he recounts a childhood memory of his guide in “Der Untote”), he considers his own Austrian Heimat explicitly only once, when he compares music he hears abroad to that played at weddings and dance festivals in Austrian villages. On his path on the island Rapa Nui, Ransmayr inds another solitary, fallen Moai, disintegrating in the grass rather than standing up to the test of time like the others. With time, nature’s absolute power will erase the traces let by civilization, and there is no crossing this absolute border. In Atlas, the protagonist realizes this truth as a result of his own (eco-critical) gaze: “Hier kroch die Wildnis gnädig über alle Beweise menschlicher Gewalt und Zerstörungswut hinweg, bedeckte sie mit Blätern und Flechten und ließ Gesichtszüge von der Erosion abschleifen, bis ein Kopf vom nackten Fels nicht mehr zu unterscheiden war” (411). For Ransmayr, it is as though this Moai is an example of a disappointed god, turning away from the people and their island and toward the Paciic expanse. his lone Moai’s gaze is an inversion of that of the others—in Ransmayr’s depiction, turning its back to the islanders rather than keeping protective watch over them, while nature brings about its decay and covers the traces of man’s violence. In Atlas, the role of literary and technological lenses that mediate the perspective of the tourist gaze can shit from a refraction of the apprehended image to a relection: he ocean lens described in the episode “In der Tiefe” can quickly become a “Meeresspiegel,” metaphorically dividing and bridging two worlds (128). One is reminded of the borders between humanity and nature discussed by Struck as well as the visible and invisible worlds Ransmayr identiies in his interview. It is no mystery why the gazing tourist senses anxiety regarding the authenticity of his experience when a lens can suddenly become a mirror. In the episode “Im Säulenwald,” which the curious reader might presume to take place at the Basilica Cistern in Istanbul, Ransmayr watches another tourist crossing a “spiegelglate Wasserläche” (183) and relects on the visitor’s approach of a monument. he smoothness of this mirror surface is broken by the steps of the man’s feet, and Ransmayr observes Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 83 84 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 that the surface consists of water—“und nicht aus schwarzem Glas” (183). he man jumps in ater his coin. Ransmayr writes, “Er hate mit der versunkenen Münze sein Schicksal in die Hand genommen. Und er hate dieses Schicksal unter den an Dunkelheit und Finsternis gewöhnten Augen bleicher Karpfen und Goldische und zum Erschrecken einiger Tagesgäste in der Unterwelt— gewendet” (189–90). he message conveyed in this episode remains cryptic, swimming around the notions of fate and eternity. he hiker acts as if to change his fate by taking the coin from the riparian loor and turning it over, placing the other side face-up, and in doing so, startles the other tourists by entering the “underworld,” a taboo tourist space in terms of societal expectations and culturally and historically ascribed value. his episode invokes the Medusa myth, just as Ransmayr’s title (Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes) and several oblique references in the text evoke the mythological Atlas. For the man who carries the world on his shoulders (embodied in the Atlas of mythology), anxiety weighs heavily. According to Ransmayr, the builders of the cistern conceived the two Medusa statues such that their gazes imprint a lasting memory in their viewers, much as they symbolically petrify one another: Die Baumeister der Zisterne haten die Medusenhäupter als Säulensockel verwendet und dabei einen der Köpfe verkehrt, den anderen liegend auf den Grund des Wasserspeichers gesetzt, als ob sie die Medusen zur immerwährenden Betrachtung der Säulenreihen und des Gewölbes zwingen und durch die versteinernde Wirkung dieses Blicks die Dauerhatigkeit von Marmor und Granit noch erhöhen wollten. (188) he stone composite of the Medusas reinforces the stone structure of the columns and metaphorical permanence, but the Medusas’ gazes essentially turn each other to stone. Connecting the gaze to relection and also to permanence in this Medusa reference, Ransmayr suggests that we can learn about the tourist gaze from the myth. Signiicantly—especially considering Ransmayr’s engagement with Ovid’s Metamorphoses in Die letzte Welt—in Ovid’s version of the myth Perseus turns Atlas into a part of the landscape (a mountain) by showing him Medusa’s head. he touristic gaze, in paradoxical irony, makes places more permanent, turning them to “stone,” while at the same time degrading “nature” and culture by the impact of high-volume visits. Just as an- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity cient way-markers are replaced by the new “Pistenführungen” in the episode “Gespenster,” local populations are displaced by touristiication, and history is replaced or blurred in collective memory. Like the mirroring efect of the ocean surface in the episode “in der Tiefe” and the inversion of the Moai gaze by the inal of these statues, the mirrored gaze of Medusa also relects a deep anxiety in the atlas of an anxious man. he Medusa and Moai statues, by relecting the gaze and by symbolizing that the gaze also turns its back to something, show what “borders” the Blick both physically and iguratively. Osborne observes that Ransmayr’s belated perspective is concerned with “the way in which the past is available to a later generation only in mediated form” (10). Ransmayr’s narrative form in Atlas, engaging retrospectively with his own memories, represents this larger problematics of historicity. hat which borders the tourist Blick in Atlas is mediation, which, as I have argued, creates a crisis of authenticity through constraints of plurality, perspective, and orientation. William M. Mahan received his MA from the University of Oregon in 2013 and is now a PhD candidate in the German Department at UC Davis. His literary interests include authors of the modernist era, balanced with atention to contemporary narratives. William’s dissertation focuses on literal and metaphorical ghosts in German and Austrian literature and ilm, exploring the relationship between modernism and postmodernism. Modernist works examined include those by Arthur Schnitzler, Alfred Döblin, Frank Wedekind, and Robert Musil, along with Fritz Lang’s ilms. he postmodernist works examined are primarily by homas Bernhard, Christoph Ransmayr, and W. G. Sebald, as well as the ilms of Christian Petzold. he study examines how these narratives trace ideological engagements of successive generations, pointing to three ruptures in society: the irst as disenchantment at the turn of the twentieth century, the second as the Holocaust, and the third as a burgeoning rupture connected to globalized capitalism and the internet, emerging in the later works of Ransmayr and Petzold. Notes 1. Although the episodic completion of each of the places visited in Atlas indeed allows for their description as sensually experienced totalities, Ransmayr’s narrated-self does not, as Struck suggests, observe nature in every case (describing urban setings in some episodes). Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 85 86 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 2. Struck introduces this distinction of the modern tourist Blick, along with its “Sehnsucht nach Authentizität,” in his discussion of Carmen Stephan’s Mal Aria (181). 3. he single sharing of coordinates with the reader, for example, reveals that Ransmayr himself at least sometimes had access to this information. However, we do not know whether he always had a GPS device with him or how frequently he recorded his coordinates when traveling. 4. As I discuss later, this term is introduced by Silke Horstkote to describe Ransmayr’s narrative style (Osborne 10). 5. As Ransmayr writes, “Aber nicht nur der Krieg schien in diesen feuchtheißen Weihnachtstagen über alle bisherigen Grenzen hinwegzuschlagen, sondern auch das Wasser, die Flut: ein Nordostmonsun, wie er seit sieben Jahren–Fischer an der Arugam Bay behaupteten: seit zehn!—nicht mehr gewütet hate, verwüstete nach dem nördlichen Hochland nun auch weite Küstenstriche im Osten. Wolkenbrüche, Sturmluten, Dammbrüche: Mehr als siebzigtausend Obdachlose waren in den letzten Tagen gezählt worden und zweiundzwanzig geborstene Dämme, darunter auch eine jahrhundertealte Deiche der künstlichen Seen singhalischer Könige. Viele Tote, hieß es, würden noch im Schlamm begraben liegen” (438). 6. his remains the case up to the point in which one ceases to be a tourist and is wholly immersed, in which case one no longer employs the anthropological tourist gaze. 7. Osborne likens this gesture to W. G. Sebald’s use of questionably sourced photographs in order to undermine authenticity of history and memory within his narratives. 8. Cf. Urry: “A characteristically upper-class view that ‘other people are tourists, while I am a traveller’” (10). 9. In comparison to, for example, paraphrasing what one of the other pilgrims says. 10. For other passages beginning with vielleicht, see Atlas 13, 15, 16. 11. his is of course “the” question for Heidegger in “Was ist Metaphysik?” 12. he camera’s relationship to authenticity vis-à-vis the photograph calls to mind Walter Benjamin’s famous essay “Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit.” 13. Cf. Ransmayr, as previously quoted: “mit einem Raum, in dem nur noch mathematische Formeln Beschreibungen erstezten können.” 14. Struck qualiies his identiication of the narrator as Ransmayr: “wenn man denn das namenslose Ich, aus dessen Blick jede Episode und jeder ‚Spielraum’ emergiert, mit seinem Autor identiizieren will und darf ” (190)—however, Ransmayr does not leave this up to speculation, conirming in his preface that he is the narrating authority with his initials “C.R.” 15. hey argue that even when places tourists were going were not visible to them, “they turned so as to see where they were going” (347). For Brown and Chalmers, this represents our “embodied sense of position and location,” both “in and beyond our visual ield” (347). 16. Citation of Terrors of Ice and Darkness 11; 3 in Osborne. 17. Translation my own. 18. Some reviews even refer to Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes as a novel, but it is fundamentally a travel book. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Mahan: Blick as the Border of Authenticity Works Cited Benjamin, Walter. Erzählen: Schriten zur heorie der Narration und zur Literarischen Prosa. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2007. Print. Breitenstein, Andreas. “Christoph Ransmayrs Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes: Am Ende der Entdeckungen.” Neue Zürcher Zeitung. 30 Oct. 2012. Web. 21 July 2014. Brown, Barry, and Mathew Chalmers. “Tourism and Mobile Technology.” Proceedings of the Eighth European Conference on Computer-Supported Cooperative Work, 14–18 September 2003, Helsinki, Finland, edited by K. Kuuti, E. H. Karsten, G. Fitzpatrick, P. Dourish, and K. Schmidt. Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer Academic, 2003, pp. 335–54. Print. Buhalis, Dimitrios, and Peter O’Connor. “Information Communication Technology Revolutionizing Tourism.” Tourism Recreation Research 30.3 (2005): 7–16. Taylor & Francis Online. Routledge, 12 Jan. 2015. Web. 6 June 2016. Hammarfelt, Linda K. “Literatur an der Grenze der Kartierbarkeit: Ransmayrs Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes.” Studia Neophilologica 86.1 (2014): 66–78. Routledge, 25 Apr. 2014. Web. 23 May 2014. Heidegger, Martin. Was ist Metaphysik? Frankfurt a.M.: Klostermann, 2007. Print. Kádár, Bálint, and Mátyás Gede. “Where Do Tourists Go? Visualizing and Analyzing the Spatial Distribution of Geotagged Photography.” Cartographic: he International Journal for Geographic Information and Geovisualization 48.2 (2013): 78–88. Project Muse. University of Toronto Press. Web. 6 June 2016. Landa, Juta. “Fractured Vision in Christoph Ransmayr’s Morbus Kitahara.” he German Quarterly 71.2 (1998): 136–44. Wiley. JSTOR. Web. 12 June 2016. Osborne, Dora. Traces of Trauma in W. G. Sebald and Christoph Ransmayr. Leeds: Modern Humanities Research Association, 2013. Print. Perkins, Harvey C., and David C. horns. “Gazing or Performing? Relections on Urry’s Tourist Gaze in the Context of Contemporary Experience in the Antipodes.” International Sociology 16.2 (2001): 185–204. Sage Publishing. Web. 7 Dec. 2015. Ramazani, Jahan. “Poetry and Tourism in a Global Age.” New Literary History 46.3 (2015): 459–83. Project Muse. Johns Hopkins University Press. Web. 6 June 2016. Ransmayr, Christoph. Atlas eines ängstlichen Mannes. Frankfurt a.M.: S. Fischer Verlag, 2012. Print. “Ransmayr: ‘Wir sind Teil dieses ungeheuren heaters!’” Interview by Norbert Mayer. Die Presse. 23 Oct. 2012. Web. 21 July 2014. Struck, Wolfgang. “Der Blick Des Touristen.” Literatur Für Leser 36.4 (2013): 181–92. Print. Wolf, Lynn L. “Review.” Review of Traces of Trauma in W. G. Sebald and Christoph Ransmayr by Dora Osborne. Modern Language Review 111.1 (2016): 294–96. Modern Humanities Research Association. Print. Wysocki, Gisela von. “Die Welt ist voller Wunder.” Zeit Online Literatur. Die Zeit, 31 Oct. 2012. Web. 21 June 2014. Urry, John. he Tourist Gaze 3.0. Sage Publications, WorldCat. 24 Aug. 2011. Web. 20 Oct. 2013. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 87 Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard Mikkel Frantzen Introduction For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. —St. Paul Why do we laugh when we read Austrian author homas Bernhard? And how do we laugh? What is nature of this laughter? One of the greatest humorists of the twentieth century, Samuel Becket, distinguishes among three kinds of laughter in Wat: a biter, ethical laugh; a hollow, intellectual laugh; and a mirthless, sad laugh: he biter laugh laughs at that which is not good, it is the ethical laugh. he hollow laugh laughs at that which is not true, it is the intellectual laugh. Not good! Not true! Well well. But the mirthless laugh is the dianoetic laugh, down the snout—Haw!-so. It is the laugh of laughs, the risus purus, the laugh laughing at the laugh, the beholding, saluting of the highest joke, in a word the laugh that laughs—silence please—at that which is unhappy. (47) Obviously Becket considers the last form—the mirthless laughter—the highest form of laughter, which is why he also calls it the risus purus, the pure laugh. Nothing, as Becket later wrote, is funnier than unhappiness (he Complete Dramatic Works 101).1 It is safe to say that Bernhard, from irst to last a keen admirer of Becket, explores and expresses all three kinds of laughter in his works. In the work JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 90 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 of both writers, the comic is oten more tragic than the tragic: Crying and laughing are two sides of the same coin. In direct continuation of the quoted passage from Wat, Becket expresses the idea that the various kinds of laughter are nothing but “modes of ululation.” he laughing that takes place in relation to the writing of Becket is thus inseparable from crying, from tears, eyes in water: “And the laugh that once was biter? Eyewater, Mr. Wat, eyewater” (47). In this article I want to suggest, however, that a fourth kind of laughter is at work and dominant in the books of homas Bernhard, a thoroughly demonic laughter. Another way of articulating this would be claiming that his oeuvre forms a demonic comedy. his, then, would be a fourth form of laughter: he laugh that arises out of a state of demonic despair. What does that mean? “Wissen Sie was das heißt? Das Fürchterliche muß sein Gelächter haben!” (Bernhard, Frost 295/302).2 his is the point of departure for my central argument, which necessitates that I now leave Becket aside and instead turn to the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, who developed a regular typology of despair in he Sickness unto Death, including an almost phenomenological and most certainly phenomenal description of what he terms demonic despair. To Kierkegaard demonic despair emerges when the self inds itself in a state or situation of despair and nevertheless cannot help staying in this very state or situation of despair. Another single sentence from Bernhard’s debut novel Frost encapsulates the paradoxical and comical logic of demonic despair: “Dem, was er haßt, in der Nähe zu bleiben, war von Anfang an sein Bemühen” (272/277). he person in demonic despair prefers to stay close to the things that he or she hates and is more interested in being right than being redeemed. He or she uses the agony and pain as an excuse to revolt against life, against the world, against the whole of existence. Hence the aim of the article is to discuss the issue of comedy as it relates not just to unhappiness but to (demonic) despair as well, in the speciic Kierkegaardian sense just indicated. Doing this will serve to highlight the comic aspects of Bernhard’s despairing novels and thus correct the lourishing but somewhat false picture of Bernhard as a dark and biter poet who only writes about destruction, sickness, and death. On a more general level it may even allow me to prepare the way for further and perhaps more contemporary discussions of the various “pathological” features of his work: the melancholy bordering on clinical depression, the lung diseases, and the various Geisteskrankheiten. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 91 As for the shape and composition of this article: What starts of as nomadic explorations into the body of Bernhard’s work, including both early and late works, in order to illuminate and illustrate the various forms that the demonic despair assumes gradually evolves into a more setled analysis of the culmination of Bernhard’s at once demonic and comic art: the novel Holzfällen from 1984. he Reception of homas Bernhard Although the comic aspects of homas Bernhard’s works are receiving more and more notice, his reputation in the academic world as well as in the broader public is still that of the Austrian enfant terrible, a Germanic version of Dostoyevsky’s Underground Man, full of biterness, rage, and ressentiment. Marcel Reich-Ranicki writes that (unfortunately and unjustly) this is indeed the dominating, even clichéd, picture of Bernhard.3 his picture is of course not entirely wrong, but it is liable to miss the comedy of homas Bernhard, a mistake as common as it is surprising, not least to Bernhard himself (see Martin; Konzet). In an interview he states that he has always considered his books as material for laughter: “ich hab’ ja immer schon Material zum Lachen geliefert” (qtd. in Huber 276). his seems to be the irst task, then: To give an account of what Bernhard in that same interview calls “ein philosophisches Lachprogramm.” But then the question inevitably and instantly arises: Which laughter? Which kind of comedy is at work? Generally speaking, there are two main strains in the scholarship that have paid atention to the question of comedy in the irst place: here are those who place Bernhard within a tradition of satire (Swit being a main reference here)4 and those who place Bernhard within a tradition of the tragi-comic.5 here are only a couple of scholars who have examined the relation between despair and comedy, and thus also the relation between Kierkegaard and Bernhard. he seminal work is Christian Klug’s homas Bernhards heaterstücke,6 a part of which is devoted to a detailed Kierkegaardian reading of Bernhard, the theoretical and conceptual starting point being exactly Kierkegaard’s he Sickness unto Death. Klug points out that in contrast to the various explicit references in Bernhard’s work to thinkers such as Pascal and Schopenhauer, there is an almost complete lack of equivalent references when it comes to Kierkegaard (60). he exception to the rule is a scene in Auslöschung, in which the character Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 92 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Franz-Josef Murau thinks about reading he Sickness unto Death—in order for him to fall asleep! He drops the idea, wondering if he should just go straight to Schopenhauer instead . . . (Bernhard, Auslöschung 458–59/295). On the face of it, a juxtaposition of the thinking and writing of Kierkegaard and Bernhard would thus appear rather far-fetched, if not simply illegitimate and weak: When, at long last, Kierkegaard is evoked, it is only for the purpose of ridicule. But this would be to miss the point. Klug is entirely justiied in claiming that no methodological problem is evident here and that the scene in Auslöschung should not be read as a “polemical demarcation” (one could add that, in general, inluence is not a mater of exterior references but of resonances and structural concurrences in the internal fabric of the given texts).7 his is in any case what leads Klug to an examination of the sickness unto death in the dramatic works of Bernhard. Referring to a concept and a igure already developed in Frost, Klug writes that all of the Bernhardian characters sufer from “Todeskrankheit” (62). he problem with Klug’s otherwise excellent and illuminating book is that, surprisingly, it does not bring out the common ground of despair and comedy in Bernhard and Kierkegaard. At the core of the present article lies the claim that despair and comedy have the same structure, and now is the time to qualify and exemplify that idea, and the irst step is to give an account of Kierkegaard’s notion of demonic despair and his theory of comedy. Kierkegaard and Demonic Despair Søren Kierkegaard’s he Sickness unto Death, published in 1849 under the pseudonym Anti-Climacus, deals with the notion of despair (fortvivlelse in Danish, Verzweilung in German). Here Kierkegaard famously and somewhat obscurely and indeed in a very pseudo-Hegelian manner deines the Self as a relation that relates itself to itself and despair as a disorder in this very relation. Overall three kinds of despair are presented in he Sickness unto Death: “in despair not to be conscious of having a self (not despair in the strict sense); in despair not to will to be oneself; in despair to will to be oneself ” (13). In either case despair is more than a feeling of despair; it describes a mis-relation in the Self, it is an ontological structure concerning the very Being of human beings. he mis-relation is basically between what the self is and what it wants to be, between a real self and a potential or ideal self. Even in the third case of a self Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 93 that wants in despair to be itself, it is still a self that does not want to be the self that the self currently is.8 In he Sickness unto Death Kierkegaard simultaneously describes a despair of possibility and a despair of necessity, a despair of ininitude and a despair of initude.9 What is particularly relevant to my particular purpose is the fact that Kierkegaard, toward the end, extrapolates what he terms a resigned or deiant despair: a demonic despair.10 he self in demonic despair is a self with a will to be itself but only out of spite. As it is, he holds on to or even clings to his own despair. In a passage that is too good not to quote at length, Kierkegaard writes: But this is also a form of the despair, to be unwilling to hope in the possibility that an earthly need, a temporal cross, can come to an end. he despairing person who in despair wills to be himself is unwilling to do that. He has convinced himself that this thorn in the lesh gnaws so deeply that he cannot abstract himself from it (whether this is actually the case or his passion makes it so to him), and therefore he might as well accept it forever, so to speak. He is ofended by it, or, more correctly, he takes it as an occasion to be ofended at all existence; he deiantly wills to be himself, to be himself not in spite of it or without it (that would indeed be to abstract himself from it, and that he cannot do, or that would be movement in the direction of resignation)—no, in spite of or in deiance of all existence, he wills to be himself with it, takes it along, almost louting his agony. Hope in the possibility of help, especially by virtue of the absurd, that for God everything is possible—no, that he does not want. And to seek help from someone else—no, not for all the world does he want that. Rather than to seek help, he prefers, if necessary, to be himself with all the agonies of hell. (70–71) his despairing self is almost masochistic, reveling in his or her own torment of despair. Despite “an earthly distress, a temporal cross,” indeed “this thorn in the lesh,” the self does not want not help. “By now, even if God in heaven and all the angels ofered to help him out of it—no, he does not want that, now it is too late” (72). he most important thing for this self is to have his torment close at hand so that he is able to demonstrate that he is right. Here Kierkegaard does not fail to note the comical and ridiculous aspect of this Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 94 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 kind of despair (in fact, for Kierkegaard all forms of despair are rather comical). So, your house is on ire, but you don’t move out. You live in a god-awful country, but you stay put. Come on, let’s go, you say, only to remain where you are. Or as in the joke in which A asks B, why are you always so contrary, and B replies, I am never contrary. In any case, this is the (comical) core of demonic despair: he despairer would rather be right than be redeemed. He or she uses the agony and pain as an excuse to revolt against life, against the world, against the whole of existence: “Rebelling against all existence, it feels that it has obtained evidence against it, against its goodness. he person in despair belives that he himself is the evidence, and that is what he wants to be, and therefore he wants to be himself, himself in his torment, in order to protest against all existence with his torment” (73–74). What happens is that the despairer converts one particular object of afront or misery into a totality, so that this particular object is all there is. Hence he or she moves from a despair about “something earthly” to a despair about “the earthly” as such. his moment of totalization or absolutization is crucial to demonic despair. Such demonic igures do exist in the real world but only rarely and are, Kierkegaard underlines, mostly to be found in literature, “in the poets, the real ones” (72). At any rate they are indeed encountered in the works of homas Bernhard, from the very beginning when the painter in Frost, the demonic despairer par excellence, succinctly declares: “Das Unglück, das einen Augenblick lang existiert, ist das ganze Unglück” (31/28–29). “What If Laughter Were Really Tears?” Kierkegaard’s heory of the Comic Despair originates in negativity, it originates in a mis-relation in the self ’s synthesis of temporality and eternity, body and soul, necessity and possibility, the inite and the ininite, and so on. A self that is not itself or does not want to be itself or only wants to be itself out of spite; according to Kierkegaard, this forms the basis of deep despair. It is, however, also the stuf that comedy is made of. In one of his journals he writes that laughter and tears are two sides of the same coin: “I have also united the tragic with the comic. I crack jokes and people laugh—I cry” (qtd. in Amir 132). In the irst volume of Either/Or, the question is asked “What if laughter were really tears?” and in the same book Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 95 Kierkegaard insists that “the melancholy have the best sense of the comic” (20–21). he work in which Kierkegaard fully develops his thoughts on the comic is Concluding Unscientiic Postscript. his work repeatedly states that a misrelation or contradiction lies at the root of the comic and that the comic is basically everywhere insofar as life essentially is characterized by contradiction. hus, Kierkegaard arrives at a strikingly simple law of the comic: “Where there is life, there is contradiction, and whereever there is contradiction, the comic is present” (513–14). A irst consequence thereof is that comedy, in its structural similarity to despair, is ontological, or, at least, existential. I cannot stress this enough. To Kierkegaard comedy is what he calls an “existence-qualiication” (Concluding Unscientiic Postscript 503). It is not to confused with or reduced to a “style of speaking,” nor it is a mater of genre alone, comedy or tragicomedy, for instance. (his will be of crucial importance once we direct our atention to Bernhard’s comedy, which some scholars tend exclusively to make into a question of form and style.)11 he comedy in Kierkegaard is deeply existential and illed with emotions, that is to say, despair. At the same time, though, Kierkegaard adds that the comic is a painless contradiction by having an exit in mind, or by being conscious of the way out (the Danish version reads: “Udveien in mente”). he tragic, on the other hand, sees the contradiction and despairs over the way out. In his discussion of the comic and the tragic, which I shall only briely touch upon here, Kierkegaard is thus insisting that if there is a contradiction and no way out of this contradiction, then it is not a comic but a tragic contradiction; the comic is unwarranted and unjustiied because it is not painless, because it does ultimately cancel the contradiction. his is where despair and comedy part ways in Kierkegaard’s point of view: Knowing no way out is precisely what deines despair, and despair in this sense can, at its best, be an unwarranted form of comedy: “the comedy of despair is [similarly] unwarranted, for knowing no way out is just what despair is, not knowing the contradiction to be cancelled, and it ought therefore to grasp the contradiction tragically, which is precisely the way to its being healed” (Concluding Unscientiic Postscript 435). It is at this point that Kierkegaard’s theory, in general as well as in the speciic relation to Bernhard’s body of work, seems insuicient. To Kierkegaard the comic is everywhere, except in the religious sphere. Religion is the point at which the comic reaches its limit, that is, as the only way out of despair. he despair is a passage to faith, the laughter a transient phenomenon. But what if the true comedy is that there is no way out, that the contradiction cannot ever be can- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 96 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 celed? his would indeed not be a painless laughter; still, it may be the only way to “endure existence” in the words of the English translation of the novel Auslöschung (qtd. in Egenberger 23).12 Or beter yet: What if the demonic comedy of homas Bernhard is identical to what Kierkegaard somewhat derogatorily calls the unwarranted comedy of despair? “he Onanism of Despair”—homas Bernhard’s Novels Verstörung and Der Untergeher In Bernhard’s novel Verstörung from 1967, a young student returns to his native Austrian village, and he is confronted with nothing but horror. he people, the landscape, everything is “krank und traurig” (15/11). His mother is dead, and his sister is in a state of severe mental distress: In a state of deep melancholy, sufering from sleeplessness and generalized apathy, she has repeatedly tried to kill herself (41/38). And so he goes on a trip with his father, a doctor, who has to make his rounds, so to speak. he crucial event unfolds when the two of them pay a visit to the castle at Hochgobernitz, the home of Prince Saurau, who constantly reads Pascal and Schopenhauer (as does any proper Bernhard character) and may or may not be mad. In his rambling monologue, which takes up the second part of the novel, the prince ofers a diagnosis of despair similar to that of Kierkegaard: “Wenn ich Menschen anschaue, schaue ich unglückliche Menschen an,” sagter der Fürst. “Es sing Leute, die ihre Qual auf die Straße tragen und dadurch die Welt zu einer Komödie machen, die natürlich zum Lachen ist. In dieser Komödie leiden sie alle an Geschwüren, geistiger, körperlicher Natur, haben ein Vergnügen an ihrer Todeskrankheit. Ween sie ihren Namen hören, glecih, ob die Szene in London, in Brüssel oder in der Steiermark ist, erschrecken sie, versuchen aber, ihr Erschrecken night zu zeigen. Das tatsächliche Schauspiel verbergen alle diese Menschen in der Komödie, die die Welt ist. Sie laufen immer, wenn sie sich unbeobachtet fühlen, von sich fort auf sich zu. Grotesk.” (145/144) his is true despair: People running away rom themselves towards themselves. his is true comedy. And even though these people must be considered in a real sense to be unhappy in their despair, they also take pleasure in their very unhappiness, the prince claims: “Der Mensch liebe sein Elend, und ist er ei- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 97 nen Augenblick ohne sein Elend, tut er alles, um wieder in seinem Elend zu sein” (147/146). he prince, however, is no beter than they are. He also takes pleasure in his illness and assumed madness. He lives in a place where he cannot help but notice that “alles erschöpt ist. Ausgeschöpt” (174/173), and still he refuses to leave: “Hochgobernitz liebe ich, und ich empinde es als lebenslänglichen Kerker” (173/172).13 By protesting, in the words of Kierkegaard, “against the whole of existence,” the prince too is contributing in turning the world into a comedy. He too partakes in what he himself terms “der menschliche Defekt. Onanie der Verzweilung” (141–42/141). As the story unfolds the self in his despair is digging a hole that is just geting deeper and deeper. But what is the hole? he self itself. Much of the same paradoxical logic goes for and marks Der Untergeher from 1983. In particular the sad, ridiculous human being Wertheimer, who kills himself because of the unendurable and enviable genius of the pianist Glenn Gould or because of the marriage of his sister to a native of Switzerland (of all places). In his all-embracing despair he is deeply miserable and yet strangely hungry for his own misery. For instance we are told this telling thing about Wertheimer: Er hat immer Bücher gelesen, in welchen von Selbstmödern die Rede ist, in welchen von Krankheiten und Todesfällen die Rede ist, dachte ich, im Gastzimmer stehend, in welchen das Menschenelend beschrieben ist, die Ausweglosigkeit, die Sinnlosigkeit, die Nutzlosigkeit, in welchen alles immer wieder verheerend und tödlich ist. Deshalb liebte er Dostojevski und alle seine Nachfolger über alles, überhaupt die russische Literatur, weil sie die tatsächlich tödliche ist, aber auch die deprimierenden französischen Philosophen. Am liebsten und am eindringlichsten las er medizinische Schriten und immer wieder führten ihn seine Wege in die Kranken-und Siechenhäuser und in die Totenhallen. (58/62–63) Of course, Wertheimer is widely regarded as a self-portrait. Even though the narrator makes an efort to invoke one similarity with Glenn Gould ater another and thereby to distance himself from the polar opposite of Glenn Gould, namely Wertheimer, the quoted delineations of Wertheimer’s character prove in the end to it and be true of the narrator as well, or at least the more or less unchanging protagonist readers of Bernhard has come to be familiar with. To put it into a formula: he demonic man is the embodiment of self- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 98 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 contradiction and thus a very comic man. A man who is happy in his very unhappiness: Tatsächlich könnte ich ja sagen, er war zwar unglücklich in seinem Unglück, aber er wäre noch unglücklicher gewesen, häte er über Nacht sein Unglück verloren, wäre es ihm von einem Augenblick auf den anderen weggenommen worden, was wiederum ein Beweis dafür wäre, daß er im Grunde gar nicht unglücklich gewesen ist, sondern glücklich und sei es durch und mit seinem Unglück, dachte ich. Viele sind ja, weil sie tief im Unglück stecken, im Grunde glücklich, dachte ich und ich sagte mir, daß Wertheimer warscheinlich tatsächlich glücklich gewesen ist, weil er sich seines Unglücks fortwährend bewußt gewesen ist, sich an seinem Unglück erfreuen konnte. (93/104) Although we ind here a distance between the narrator and the character of Wertheimer, it would be inadequate solely to regard the comedy as an effect of this self-relexive distance or as a formal efect. here is no incongruity between a content that is not comical and a form that is comical.14 With Kierkegaard we can understand the comedy as existential and emotional, as residing in the content itself, that is, as a structure of the very character, who is caught in a state of contradiction and for some reason cannot but stay in this despairing state, maintaining it, even intensifying it, which is what gives the despair and the comedy a demonic tinge. Fire and Frost Walk with Me (Impossible Suicide) An important insight in he Sickness unto Death is that the sickness unto death does not lead to death; death is not the ultimate outcome of the sickness, it is not, Kierkegaard underlines, the last thing: “the torment of despair is not to be able to die,” he writes, and adds: “hus to be sick unto death is to be unable to die, yet not as if there were hope of life; no, the hopelessness is that there is not even the ultimate hope, death.” It is indeed a painful paradox: to die and yet not to die. Unfortunately “the dying of despair continually converts itself into a living” (18). he despair, however, does not end here (of course it doesn’t), given that despair at the same time is a consummation of the self. he self is trying to be rid of itself, to consume itself, but he or she cannot consume him- or herself. In a poetic picture Kierkegaard writes that it is as if Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 99 “ire has entered into something that cannot burn, or cannot burn up, that is, into the self ” (19). It would not, however, be unfair or illegitimate to object that rost is as important an element as ire in Bernhard’s books (just by casting a glance at some of the titles: Frost, Die Kälte). But I would argue that the cruel logic remains the same, the only diference being that, in the case of frost, it is a question of frost entering something that cannot freeze or cannot freeze over. In fact, the two elements, frost and ire, do not only coexist but are thoroughly intertwined. It is a case, as Kierkegaard knew, of “the cold ire in despair” (he Sickness unto Death 19, emphasis added). he primary consequence of all this is that although despair is selfinlammable it does not lead to death. Despite being the danger nearest to the despairing person, as Kierkegaard observes, and despite also constituting a persistent presence in Bernhard’s works, death is never atained, suicide never realized. At least not when it comes to the narrators themselves: “Wenn ein uns Nahestehender Selbstmord begangen hat,” sagte der Fürst, “fragen wir, warum Selbstmord? Wir suchen nach Gründen, Ursachen usf. . . . Wir verfolgen sein jetzt auf einmal von ihm abgetötetes Leben so weit zurück, als we uns möglich ist. Tagelang beschäftigen wir uns mit der Frage: warum Selbstmord? Reproduzieren Einzelheiten. Und wir müssen doch sagen, daß alles im Leben des Selbstmörders—jetzt wissen wir, daß er seinem Leben immer ein Selbstmörder gewesen ist, eine Selbstmörderexistenz geführt hat— Ursachen, Grund für seinen Selbstmord ist.” (169/168) We ask: Why suicide? But maybe, this paragraph seems to suggest, we should rather ask: Why not suicide? In a way there is only one basic yet brutal question every one of Bernhard’s irst-person narrator needs to be asked: Why don’t you just kill yourself? In the autobiographical work Der Keller, the sequel to Die Ursache, we ind a depiction of how the young Bernhard, already immensely tired of going to school, was given the choice between being and being against everything, between commiting suicide and leaving the Gymnasium, if you will. hat is just the way it is in the universe of Bernhard: he narrator always has a choice, but suicide is always one of the options. A few sentences from Witgensteins Nefe bring maters to a head: “Manchmal dachte ich, warum will ich den Gang, den ich zu gehen habe, auhalten, warum füge ich mich nicht genauso in diesen Gang, wie alle andern? Wozu Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 100 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 die Anstrengung beim Aufwachen, nicht sterben zu wollen, wozu?” (Erzählungen III 218–19/12). Moreover, in Die Ursache Bernhard is quick to point out that the only thought that preoccupied him in boarding school was suicide. Whenever he is practicing his iddling in a Schuhkammer, he is constantly plagued by suicidal thoughts: “Das Leben oder die Existenz abzutöten, um es oder sie nicht mehr leben oder existieren zu müssen, dieser plötzlichen vollkommenen Armseligkeit und Hillosigkeit durch einen Sprung aus dem Fenster, oder durch Erhängen beispielsweise in der Schuhkammer im Erdgeschoss ein Ende zu mache, erscheint ihm das einzig Richtige, aber er tut es nicht” (Die Autobiographie 14).15 Suicide appears to be only right thing to do. But he does not do it. He does not want to do it. He refuses to resolve his despair. he same goes for the protagonist of Der Keller or of Witgensteins Nefe (or of any other Bernhard book, for that mater). It is always the others who commit suicide, his friends, his doppelgängers, like Wertheimer for example. As for the narrators, nothing ever comes of their insistent and persistent suicidal thoughts, even if the facts of the mater are that everything is an unceasing cause for commiting suicide. According to Kierkegaard this is, as it will be remembered, precisely the torment of despair, the real sickness unto death: “not to be able to die” (he Sickness unto Death 18). his sickness is, of course, also one of relection. All of Bernhard’s characters are Geistesmenschen, they think too much: “Wenn wir zu denken anfangen, wie wir gehen . . . ist es uns bald nicht mehr möglich, zu gehen” (179/179).16 hus, the idea of suicide is not once converted and put into practice, simply because thought and action are separated by an unbridgeable gulf. What we ind here is the dark comedy of the failed or, more precisely, the never-initiated suicide atempt: “Alles ist Selbstmord . . . Aber immer, wenn wir vom Selbstmord sprechen, betätigen wir ein Komisches. Ich jage mir eine Kugel in (oder durch) den Kopf, ich erschieße, erhänge mich, ist komisch” (153/153, emphasis in original). his is the essence of the literature of homas Bernhard, that is to say the essence of his demonic comedy. Woodcutters (and So He Runs . . .) he demonic comedy reaches its height in Woodcuters. Nowhere else is the despair more demonic and more comic. Here the narrator is at a dinner party, for which he constantly curses himself.17 he host couple are the cultured Mr. and Mrs. Auersberger, and the atmosphere is very Viennese. A künstlerischer Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 101 Abendessen, the narrator sneers time and again, while siting in a wing chair denigrating all the other guests one by one in an inner monologue, many of whom he, for very good reasons indeed, has not seen for twenty-ive years. he comedy of Woodcuters has everything to do with the paradoxical status of the narrator, who is caught up, to quote Franz Kaka, in a sort of stehender Strumlauf. his is not only relected but also rooted in his rambling, almost manic speech and thus also in the very style of the book: he way in which he repeats certain words, the way in which he combines and compounds certain words, and the way in which he italicizes certain words. For instance, take the repetition of the phrase “dachte ich auf dem Ohrensessel”: He constantly reminds the reader that he is siting in a wing chair (in fact it happens more than a hundred times in less than a hundred pages), invents the neologism Generalfeldmarschallshosen, which Bernhard undoubtedly has chosen with great care and pleasure, and pointedly italicizes the expression künstlerischen Abendessen.18 hese stylistic traits, which are characteristic for Bernhard’s work as a whole, trace the demonic despair. Obsessively he returns to the same litle phrases, the same corrosive thoughts. his is the stehender Sturmlauf: Everything is running in circles, somewhat symptomatic of what Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guatari have conceptualized as the “ritornello” (A housand Plateaus 342f.), an expressive rhythm or refrain that in the case of Bernhard’s characters gets a sort of “pathological” taint, or at least a demonic and comic quality. He is, as it were, stuck: literally, in his armchair; existentially, in his life; historically, in Austrian postwar society; linguistically, in thought as well as in speech. Out of this stuck-ness a great deal of comedy is generated, and this comedy is demonic in the sense that the typical Bernhardian protagonist is not a helpless victim but precisely a person who knowingly and willingly enters into a loathsome situation or environment and stays put. In his demonic despair there is nothing the narrators of Bernhard’s works love more than to be in a place they hate to be in. And so the narrator of Woodcuters has come to the right place, indeed. Adding to the comedy is the fact that the narrator is, of course, just as ridiculous as the people that he spends all his time ridiculing. At the very end the narrator himself turns out to be all too human and almost quite touching and moving. He has been following the advice of Judge William of Either/Or, despairing full speed and nonstop in his wing chair. But when, at the close of the dinner party, which is also the conclusion of the book, he inally opens his Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 102 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 mouth to bid Mrs. Auersberger farewell, he is only able to muter sentences such as “What a lovely evening it has been,” “We must really revive our friendship,” and that kind of talk. It does not escape his atention how base and hypocritical and mendacious a human being he is too. And so he runs out into the Austrian night, thinking that he both loves and hates the city of Vienna and the people of Vienna, a bit like Quentin in William Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! who exclaims “I don’t! I don’t hate it!” when he is asked why he hates the South so much, and everybody knows that his denial also contains a comical element of airmation and thus that his assertion of feeling no hatred toward the South at the same time is an implicit indication of his hatred towards the South. Only in Bernhard the signs are reversed so that he says he hates Austria and Vienna (he really hates it!), and yet the fact that he even feels the need to express this hatred shows in the most emphatic way that he simultaneously and to a certain extent also loves Vienna and Austria and that he is, thus, not able to leave the city and country for good. And so he runs, while giving vent to his demonical and comical double-mindedness: daß diese Stadt, durch die ich laufe, so entsetzlichich sie immer empinde, immer empfunden habe, für mich doch die beste Stadt ist, dieses verhaßte, mir immer verhaßt gewesene Wien, mir aufeinmal jetzt wieder doch das beste, mein bestes Wien ist und daß diese Menschen, die ich immer gehaßt habe und die ich hasse und die ich immer hassen werde, doch die besten Menschen sind, daß ich sie hasse, aber daß sie rührend sind. (199/180) And so he runs, thinking that he had beter get home as soon as possible in order to write something about this künstlerischen Abendessen and to put his thoughts down on paper before it is too late.19 his is where the narrative comes to an end—at which point it is no longer possible to decide who is laughing and who is not, who is laughing at whom, not to mention who has the last laugh (the author, the narrator, the reader?). One thing is a hundred percent clear, however: his laughter must not be mistaken for a conciliatory laughter; on the contrary and to the biter end, it is a peace-disturbing and disruptive laughter. A demonic laughter: You laugh and laugh and laugh, and then suddenly you laugh no more. For all that, you do not leave the story Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 103 without one last laugh at the narrator who has been exposed as human like everyone else and who seems suspended in his despairing Sturmlauf through Vienna. At one and the same time he is on his way to his story and on the run, at full tilt, away from himself, from his life and, perhaps more than anything else, from the sound of demonic laughter echoing in the empty hall of the Austrian night. Life as a Machine of Despair—in Conclusion “To exist means nothing other than we despair. . . .” his sentence, from the English translation of Der Untergeher, seems to capture the standpoint saturating all of homas Bernhard’s works. Life itself, or beter yet the self itself, is nothing but an existence machine, as well as a “Verzweilungsmaschine.” All of the Bernhardian characters are Geistesmenschen, and they all sufer from a sickness in the spirit, a fatal Todeskrankheit, a sickness unto death, as Kierkegaard would have it. My ambition here has been twofold: First, to show that the dominating form of despair in Bernhard is a demonic despair. he self in demonic despair is a self that wants to be itself but only out of spite. By using the agony and pain as an excuse to revolt against life, against the world, against the whole of existence, the person in demonic despair would thus rather be right than be redeemed. In other words, there is no way out, not even suicide and death— at least, not for the narrators themselves. his is the situation for all of Bernhard’s novels. My other aim is to argue that a certain laughter arises out of this demonic despair. In fact, the very structure of despair is a comic structure, and that structure is one of contradiction, of a mis-relation in the self. his is, so to speak, an almost ontological comedy, or in any case an internal comedy. here is, however, also, a more external and maybe even epistemological comedy that emerges when you get a view of demonic despair from the outside, when, for instance, the perspective is detached from the despairing narrator, when the otherwise encapsulated room is momentarily broken down and a distance is created that reveals how comical he of all people really is. his is, in particular, the situation toward the end of Woodcuters. hese two aspects add up to what I have proposed to conceptualize as the demonic comedy of homas Bernhard. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 104 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Mikkel Frantzen is a PhD fellow at the Department of Arts and Cultural Studies at Copenhagen University who works primarily on contemporary iction and poetry. His dissertation, Going Nowhere, Slow: Scenes of Depression in Contemporary Literature and Culture, analyzes books by David Foster Wallace and Michel Houellebecq, the movie Melancholia by Lars von Trier, and works by the readymade artist Claire Fontaine. He has worked on Ingeborg Bachmann, homas Bernhard, Elfriede Jelinek, and Peter Handke. Publications include a monograph about the Danish poet Lars Skinnebach (Arena 2013) and translations of he Cat Inside by William Burroughs (Antipyrine 2014) and Judith Butler’s Frames of War (Arena 2015, with Iben Engelhardt Andersen) into Danish. He is also a literary critic at Politiken, the largest Danish newspaper. Notes 1. he fuller quote, from Endgame, reads: “Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. . . . Yes, yes, it’s the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it’s always the same thing. Yes, it’s like the funny story we have heard too oten, we still ind it funny, but we don’t laugh any more” (101). 2. Here and in what follows every reference to the German original will be accompanied by a reference to the corresponding page in the English translation (when available). 3. Cf. Reich-Ranicki 45. See also Huber; Walitsch. 4. See, for instance, Dowden; Sebald. 5. See, for instance, Huber; Walitsch; Schmidt-Dengler. 6. Also worth mentioning are Strowick; Schmiedinger; Egenberger. 7. “Es wird sich bei der Darstellung des Humors Bernhards und Kierkegaards zeigen, dass diese Form der Verspotung eine durchaus angemessene Rezeptionsweise ist und keine polemische Abgrenzung bedeutet” (Klug 59). 8. I am aware that the concept of despair has a religious meaning to Kierkegaard, but I argue that despair is not totally reducible to its Christian or religious dimension. 9. Obviously these diferent forms of despair correspond to diferent instances of Bernhard’s characters. here is not just one form of despair at work in his books, there are several and at times overlapping kinds of despair, but the dominant form of despair is, as Klug also mentions, demonic despair (“Die wohl wichtigsten Erscheinungsformen der Krankheit zum Tode im Hinblick auf as Bernhardsche Personal sind Trotz und Dämonisches,” 74). In this, I am in full agreement with Klug. 10. Just like the concept of despair, the notion of the demonic also appears in other writings of Kierkegaard’s. For instance, in he Concept of Anxiety, the demonic is described as anxiety about the Good and as an “inclosing reserve,” although it is important to realize that “the demonic does not close itself up with something, but it closes itself up within itself, and Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 105 in this lies what is profound about existence [Tilværelsen], precisely that unfreedom makes itself a prisoner” (124). 11. Admirable in all other respects, not least in its detailed intervention into the comedy in Bernhard’s autobiographical pentalogy, Morneweg uses Bergson’s theory of the comic to emphasize the triumph of form over content (81, 86, 151). So even though her analysis of the comic style and form of Bernhard’s books—the degradations, the exaggerations, the neologisms, the hyperbolic comparisons, the endless repetitions and the excessive use of particles and participles (cf. 83, 201)—is very perceptive, she does not take into account the existential and emotional dimensions of Bernhard’s comedy (in fact, Morneweg subscribes to Bergson’s statement that laughter has no greater enemy than emotion, 91). One important exception is hill, who addresses the existential aspect of Bernhard’s Lachprogram, observing that comedy (and tragedy for that mater) cannot be conined to a question of genre (26, 27). 12. he same point about the function of comedy in general is made by Critchley, who writes: “Humour has the same formal structure as depression, but it is an anti-depressant that works by the ego inding itself ridiculous” (101). And Amir talks about a comedy that is “born from sufering” but also “mitigates it” (184). I would add that even though Bernhard’s humor is not a way out of despair, it is a way of coping with despair; more precisely, it is the only way. 13. A very similar, demonic logic is to be found in Frost: “I ind the inn insuferable, you must know,” he said. “But I have an instinctive yen to expose myself to it, to expose myself to everything that is directed against me. Where there is putrescence, I ind I cannot breathe deeply enough” (277). 14. Despite the disagreements between Morneweg’s approach and my own, I think she is absolutely correct when she writes that in Bernhard “wird die Inkongruenz zwischen nicht komischer thematik und deren komischer Inszenierung aufgehoben” (167). 15. he work has unfortunately not been translated into English. 16. In the litle-known text Two Ages from 1846, Søren Kierkegaard delivers a strikingly similar Zeitdiagnose. According to this text the individual of the present age is caught in “the web of relection and the seductive ambiguity of relection” (69). What is wanting is passion: “Action and decision are just as scarce these days as is the fun of swimming dangerously for those who swim in shallow water” (71). Some pages later Kierkegaard ofers the following conclusion, which indicates that the times have not changed that much ater all: “So the present age is basically sensible, perhaps knows more on the average than any previous generation, but it is devoid of passion. Everyone is well informed; we all know everything, every course to take and the alternative courses, but no one is willing to take it” (104). hese passages point to the fact that the spiritual problem Kierkegaard addresses is more than an individual problem; it is a problem of society, a symptom of the Zeitgeist, so to speak. Just as Kierkegaard developed his typology of despair as a critical diagnosis of contemporary society, Bernhard anatomizes and analyzes despair as a way of approaching and atacking the state of afairs in postwar Austria. his is and will remain implicit in the present article, just as I presuppose the concrete historical context that is doubtlessly framing and prompting the Bernhardian despair. 17. It is, of course, imperative to remember the autobiographical source or foundation Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 106 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 of the book, meaning that the ictive people in the book had analogues in real people in the so-called real word, famous actors and writers from Austria during that time. 18. So although I have emphasized the existential dimension of Bernhard’s comedy, there is no question that the style and the form of his books also generates a great deal of comedy, and especially in his later works: As hill convincingly shows, it is a diferent form of comedy, and laughter, in, say, Frost and Holzfällen (it is worth mentioning here that due to space limitations, I cannot do full justice to the internal developments and diferences in Bernhard’s body of work in relation to the question of comedy). For more on Bernhard’s semantic, syntactic and stylistic comedy, see, as already mentioned, Morneweg, in which we are told that the word suicide appears fully forty-six times during the irst ive pages of Ursache (176–77). 19. It would be a misunderstanding to regard literature as an escape from despair. It is not. Suicide and death are not an exit, not a possible way out, and neither is writing. Indeed, words only seem to add to the misery: “Die Wörter ruinieren, was man denkt, das Papier macht lächerlich, was man denkt, und während man aber noch froh ist, etwas Ruiniertes und etwas Lächerliches auf das Papier bringen zu können, verliert das Gedächtnis auch noch dieses Ruinierte und Lächerliche. Aus einer Ungeheuerlichkeit mache das Papier eine Nebensächlichkeit, eine Lächerlichkeit, sagte Konrad. So gesehen, erschiene in der Welt und also in der Welt durch die Welt des Geistes sozusagen immer nur etwas Ruiniertes, etwas Lächerliches und also sei auf der Welt alles nur lächerlich und ruiniert. Die Wörter sind dazu geschafen, das Denken zu erniedrigen, ja, er gehe sogar so weit, zu sagen, die Wörter seien dazu da, das Denkan abzuschafen, was ihnen einmal hundertprozentig gelingen werde. Auf jeden fall, die Wörter machen alles herunder, sagte Konrad” (Das Kalkwerk 126/128–29). Works Cited Amir, Lydia B. Humor and the Good Life in Modern Philosophy: Shatesbury, Hamann, Kierkegaard. Albany: State U of New York P, 2014. Print. Becket, Samuel. he Complete Dramatic Works. London: Faber and Faber, 2006. —. Wat. London: Calder & Noyars, 1970. Print. Bernhard, homas: Frost (Werke 1). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2003 (Frost. Translated by Michael Hofmann. New York: Vintage Books, 2006). Print. —. Verstörung (Werke 2). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2003 (Gargoyles. Translated by Richard and Clara Winston. New York: Vintage Books, 2006). Print. —. Das Kalkwerk (Werke 3). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2004 (he Lime Works. Translated by Sophie Wilkins. New York: Vintage International, 2009). Print. —. Der Untergeher (Werke 6). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2006 (he Loser. Translated by Jack Dawson. Faber and Faber, 2013). Print. —. Holzfällen. Eine Erregung (Werke 7). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2007 (Woodcuters. Translated by David McLintock. New York: Vintage International, 2010). Print. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Frantzen: The Demonic Comedy of Thomas Bernhard | 107 —. Auslöschung (Werke 9). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2009 (Extinction. Translated by David McLintock. New York: Vintage Books, 2011). Print. —. Witgensteins Nefe. Idem: Erzählungen III (Werke 13). Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2008 (Witgenstein’s Nephew. Translated by David McLintock. New York: Vintage International, 2009). Print. —. Die Autobiographie. St. Pölten: Residenz Verlag, 2009. Print. Critchley, Simon. On Humour. London: Routledge, 2002. Print. Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guatari. A housand Plateaus. London: Continuum, 2004. Print. —. Kaka: Toward a Minor Literature. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1986. Print. Dowden, Stephen. Understanding homas Bernhard. Columbia: U of South Carolina P, 1991. Print. Egenberger, Stefan. “homas Bernhard: A Grotesque Sickness unto Death.” Kierkegaard’s Inluence on Literature, Criticism and Art. Tome I: he Germanophone World. Edited by Jon Stewart. Farnham, U.K.: Ashgate, 2013. Print. Huber, Martin. “Retich und Klavier: Zur Komik im Werk homas Bernhards.” Komik in der österreichischen Literatur. Edited by Wendelin Schmidt-Dengler, Johann Sonnleiter, and Klaus Zeyringer. Berlin: Erich Schmidt Verlag, 1996. Print. Kierkegaard, Søren. Concluding Unscientiic Postscript to Philosophical Fragments. Vol. I. Edited and translated by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1992. Print. —. Either/Or. Vol. 1. Edited and translated by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1987. Print. —. he Sickness Unto Death. Edited and translated by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1980. Print. —. he Concept of Anxiety. Translated by R. homte and Albert B. Anderson. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1980. Print. —. Two Ages. he Age of Revolution and the Present Age: A Literary Review. Edited and translated by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1978. Print. Klug, Christian: homas Bernhards heaterstücke. Stutgart: Metzler, 1991. Print. Konzet, Mathias. he Rhetoric of National Dissent in homas Bernhard, Peter Handke, and Elriede Jelinek. Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2000. Print. Martin, Charles W. he Nihilism of homas Bernhard: he Portrayal of Existential and Social Problems in His Prose Works. Amsterdam: Editions Rodopi B. V., 1995. Print. Morneweg, Annelie: Elemente des Komischen in der Autobiographie homas Bernhards. Pieterlen and Bern, Switzerland: Peter Lang: 2005. Print. Reich-Ranicki, Marcel. homas Bernhard: Aufsätze und Reden. Zurich: Ammann, 1990. Print. Schmidt-Dengler, Wendelin. “homas Bernhard’s Poetics of Comedy.” A Companion to the Works of homas Bernhard. Edited by Mathias Konzet. Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2002. Print. Schmiedinger, Heinrich. “homas Bernhard und Sören Kierkegaard.” Jahrbuch der Universität Salzburg 1995–1997. Salzburg: 1999. Print. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 108 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Sebald, W. G. “Wo die Dunkeltheit den Strick zuzieht: Zu homas Bernhard.” Die Beschreibung des Unglücks. Salzburg and Vienna: Residenz Verlag, 1985. Print. Strowick, Elisabeth. “Unzuverlässiges Erzählen der Existenz: homas Bernhards Spaziergänge mit Kierkegaard.” Denken/Schreiben (in) der Krise—Existentialismus und Literatur. Edited by Cornelia and Franz-Josef Deiters. St. Ingbert, Germany: Röhring, 2004. Print. hill, Anne. Die Kunst, die Komik und das Erzählen im Werk homas Bernhards. Würzburg, Germany: Königshausen & Neumann Verlag, 2011. Print. Walitsch, Herwig. homas Bernhard und das Komische. Erlangen, Germany: Verlag Palm & Enke Erlangen, 1992. Print. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association In Memoriam Egon Schwarz (August 8, 1922–February 11, 2017) Helga Schreckenberger With the death of Egon Schwarz we have lost a distinguished scholar of Austrian and German literature who touched many of us with his generosity and interest in others. We have also lost a witness of the National Socialist terror. Born in Vienna on August 8, 1922, he was an only son from a truly Austrian family. His father, Oskar Schwarz, came to Vienna from Czernowitz; his mother, Erna Schwarz, née Weissisil, was born in Pazsony, Hungary, today’s Bratislava. Egon Schwarz was not yet sixteen when he and his parents led Vienna following the National Socialists’ assumption of power in Austria in 1938. heir harrowing light through Europe, which included deportation to the “no man’s land” between Slovakia and Hungary, ended in La Paz, Bolivia. here the family struggled to rebuild their lives under the most diicult circumstances as Bolivia was one of the poorest and most geographically isolated countries in South America. Ater the war the family moved to more economically promising Ecuador, setling in Cuenca. here Schwarz succeeded in obtaining a high school diploma and then enrolled at the local university, studying law. With the help of fellow exile Bernhard Blume, Schwarz was able to come to the United States, where he studied German literature, receiving a master’s degree from Ohio State University and a PhD from the University of Washington. From 1954 to 1961 he taught at Harvard University. He then accepted employment at Washington University at St. Louis, Missouri, where he was named Rosa May Distinguished University Professor in the Humanities in 1975. Egon Schwarz’s scholarship spans the literature of the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-irst centuries and includes publications on some of the best-known German-language authors of that span, including Stiter, Keller, Gothelf, Eichendorf, Schnitzler, Rilke, Hofmannsthal, Mann, and Hesse. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 110 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 When he connected the work of the seemingly apolitical writers Hofmannsthal, Rilke, and Eichendorf to their sociopolitical contexts, his publications were seminal. Schwarz dared to go against the New Criticism, the dominant critical approach to literature at the time, no small feat for a scholar at the beginning of his career. Moreover, Schwarz was one of the irst scholars of exile literature to overcome the initial dismissal of its relevance by other scholars. Schwarz’s many publications on German and Austrian literature gained international recognition and brought the scholar numerous invitations for guest professorships at prestigious universities in the United States, Germany, Austria, and New Zealand. here is no doubt that Egon Schwarz’s experience of exile inluenced his strong belief in the signiicance of the social and historical environment that guided both his work as a scholar and his worldview. It also taught him to reject any notion of national or ethnocentric essentialism. his can be seen in his work on both Austrian and Jewish literature. Schwarz always rejected an ahistorical categorization of “Austrianness” or “Jewishness” and insisted on a careful consideration of their speciic historical position. In his article “Was ist österreichische Literatur” Schwarz criticized nationalistic, essentialist deinitions of Austrian literature. Rather he pointed to the speciic sociohistorical developments as the deining and connecting element of any national literature. Egon Schwarz was an engaging raconteur, which is particularly evident in his autobiography. In Keine Zeit für Eichendorf. Chronik unreiwilliger Wanderjahre (1979; second edition Unreiwillige Wanderjahre. Auf der Flucht vor Hitler durch drei Kontinente, 2005), he told of his formative years in exile in an immensely captivating way. Diminishing neither the despair of being expulsed from his home nor the hardship of exile, Schwarz viewed the experience, not without justiiable biterness, as constitutive of the person he became. He atributed his open and cosmopolitan worldview to his light and experiences in South American. Schwarz’s autobiography constitutes a positive acceptance of his life including the physical and emotional vicissitudes of his exile experiences. Egon Schwarz recounted the more pleasurable but no less adventurous travels he embarked on with his wife Dorle in his travel book, Die japanische Mauer. Ungewöhnliche Reisegeschichten. his delightful collection of stories reveals another side efect of the exile experience—Schwarz’s unconventionality and his disregard for conventional behavior, which his equally uncon- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Schreckenberger: In Memoriam | 111 ventional wife supported at each turn. He chose to accept a ive-day prison sentence rather than pay the 50-mark ine for a traic violation in Germany; he and his wife do not hesitate to climb the wall of the closed Lafcadio Hearn Museum in order to get a glimpse of the castle. Ater surviving exile, Schwarz had no patience for society’s expectations. Although he never renewed his Austrian citizenship, Egon Schwarz reconnected to the city and its inhabitants in many ways. He readily recognized the role that Viennese culture and language played in his personal and professional development. He welcomed the gestures of reconciliation that came from a younger generation of Austrian scholars. Egon Schwarz was an incredibly generous person, as all his students and friends will atest. He loved to share his experiences, his insights, and his passions. I cherish the memories of our deep conversations during walks through the botanical gardens of St. Louis, his acerbic comments about politics, and especially his ability for self-mockery which made him a igure straight out of a Schnitzler play. When Egon Schwarz died on February 11, 2017, in St. Louis, Missouri, a part of Austrian history died with him. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association “Für mich war Literatur alles Mögliche, auch Eskapismus” Interview mit Egon Schwarz Michael Omasta and Ursula Seeber Am 18. Oktober 2016 wurde dem Literaturwissenschatler und Kritiker Egon Schwarz im Literaturhaus Wien die Ehrenmitgliedschat der Gesellschat für Exilforschung e.V. verliehen. Michael Omasta, Filmredakteur der Wiener Stadtzeitung “Falter”, und Ursula Seeber, bis 2016 Leiterin der Österreichischen Exilbibliothek, führten am 17. Oktober 2016 mit Egon Schwarz in Wien dieses Gespräch. Es sollte sein letzter Besuch in seiner Heimatstadt sein. Dürfen wir Sie aus gegebenem Anlass fragen: Wie inden Sie das, dass Bob Dylan den Literaturnobelpreis bekommen hat? Egon Schwarz: Ich inde das gut. Die sind indig. Der Nobelpreis hat ja immer nicht nur literarische Ziele, sondern soll den Horizont verbreitern und hat auch eine politische Dimension. Es sind nicht immer unbedingt die besten Autoren, aber ausgefallene Autoren—Gabriela Mistral ist wahrscheinlich nicht die größte Dichterin, die’s jemals gegeben hat, aber: Sie ist eine Frau und sie ist Südamerikanerin. [heodor] Mommsen hat auch den Nobelpreis bekommen. Ich weiß gar nicht, ob der so herrlich geschrieben hat, aber es muss den Leuten eingeleuchtet haben. Es gibt andere Preise, die mehr auf die literarische Qualität abzielen. Sie waren einer der Ersten, der in Amerika österreichische Literatur unterrichtet und diese protegiert hat. ES: Ich weiß nicht, ob ich unter den Ersten war, aber ich hab mich geärgert, dass österreichische Literatur nie als eigene behandelt wurde in den JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 114 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Seminaren. Die Annahme war, dass es eine deutschsprachige Literatur gibt, und die Schweizer und die Österreicher gehören dazu. Man hat die Eigenart nicht wahrgenommen, die österreichische Eigenart. Natürlich wusste ich auch nicht furchtbar viel darüber, aber ich wusste, dass es nicht so war, wie’s beschrieben wurde. Sie schreiben, Sie waren vom “linguistischen Bazillus” angesteckt, ein Fan von Metaphern, Redensarten, Akzenten, und haben deshalb viel klarer erkennen können als andere, was das Österreichische in der österreichischen Literatur ist. ES: Ich hab einen Aufsatz geschrieben mit dem vielsprechenden Titel “Was ist österreichische Literatur?” Worauf ich am Ende kam, war, dass nicht alles, was in Österreich geschrieben wird, österreichische Literatur ist. Es gibt Werke, die ununterscheidbar von in Deutschland publizierten sind, und andere, die etwas einfangen, österreichische Geschichte zum Beispiel. Natürlich gab es Leute, die von der österreichischen Literatur sprachen, aber die haben alles, von den Kreuzzügen an, als typisch österreichisch bezeichnet. Das war so eine reaktionäre Art mit der Frage umzugehen! Und dann hab ich gesagt, warum nicht, und hab angefangen. Zuerst in Harvard, dann bin ich nach St. Louis und hab das weitergemacht. War diese Leidenschat für Literatur etwas, das Ihnen schon in die Wiege gelegt wurde? Ist in Ihrer Familie gelesen worden? ES: Meine Familie hat damit wenig im Sinn gehabt. Immerhin, meine Muter war eine Leserin, aber ich glaub, sie hat vor allem Schundromane gelesen. Dass man ein Buch kaut und liest, hab ich also zuhause gelernt. Für mich war Literatur alles Mögliche, auch Eskapismus. Sie müssen sich vorstellen, ich saß plötzlich in La Paz—das ist heute noch abwegig, damals war’s außerhalb der Welt. 90 Prozent der Bevölkerung waren Indianer, deren Mutersprache Quechua oder Aymara war und die Spanisch genauso lernen mussten wie wir. Außerdem trennten uns auch Kultur-Äonen von diesen Leuten, sodass wir hauptsächlich auf uns selber angewiesen waren. Das ist ein rasanter Unterschied zu jenen Emigranten, die in die USA gegangen waren, die wollten und mussten sich anpassen. Jetzt ist es ein bisschen anders, aber damals verlangte man, dass sie so sehr Amerikaner würden wie möglich. Was ja nicht leicht ist. Ich bin jetzt seit 1949 in den USA und immer noch keiner. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Omasta and Seeber: Interview mit Egon Schwarz | 115 Sie sind nur dem Pass nach Amerikaner? ES: Ich bin ein Pass-Amerikaner. Wenn ich den Mund aufmache, erkennt man mich sofort als “Zuagrasten”. Und die Frage, wie mir Amerika gefällt, wird mir öter gestellt. Jetzt in Wahlkampfzeiten wahrscheinlich besonders ot? ES: Jetzt, wo’s mir überhaupt nicht mehr gefällt, fragen sie mich besonders. Man darf Sie im Moment auch nicht fragen, wie Ihnen Österreich gefällt? ES: Nein, die braune Flut steigt wieder und gluckst. Es ist recht widerwärtig. Wenn man glaubt, dass man das alles hinter sich gelassen hat, dann kommt’s gleich wieder. Zu Ihrer Autobiograie: Die erste Aulage erschien 1979 unter dem Titel “Keine Zeit für Eichendorf ”, was später geändert wurde. Haben Sie sich das gewünscht oder war Eichendorf für den Verlag einfach keine Referenzgröße mehr? ES: Ich inde, der Titel “Keine Zeit für Eichendorf ” ist viel besser, aber den hab nicht ich erfunden, sondern Dorle, meine erste Frau. Ich hate hochtrabende Wörter im Sinn gehabt. Na ja, Verleger wollen halt das Buch verkaufen. Bis dahin war es mehrmals aufgelegt worden mit diesem Titel und hat eigentlich keinen Weg in die Öfentlichkeit gefunden. Der erste Verlag war Athenäum, der ist zugrunde gegangen, natürlich nicht wegen meines Buchs allein. Dann war das Buch jahrelang vergrifen. Dann hat es Hans-Albert Walter in die Büchergilde Gutenberg gebracht und eine schöne Ausgabe gemacht [1992]. Und dann ist es bei Beck als Taschenbuch erschienen [2005], da hat’s eine gewisse Verbreitung gefunden. Der Titel “Unfreiwillige Wanderjahre” ist einerseits eine Goethe-Anspielung und hat andererseits eine große phonetische Nähe zu Amérys “Unmeisterliche Wanderjahre”—war das beabsichtigt? ES: Nein, das spielte auf Goethe an und war schon der Untertitel von “Eichendorf ”. Das Wort “unfreiwillig” ergab sich—in meiner Jugend war nichts freiwillig. Das hab ich auch thematisiert in dem Buch. Ich hab darauf bestanden, dass es vielleicht eine Art freien Willen gibt—natürlich nicht in einem religiösen Sinn, sondern in dem, dass jedes Individuum glaubt, dass Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 116 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 das, was es macht, seiner Willensentscheidung unterstehe. Uns hat man das ja sehr deutlich gemacht—kein Mensch wollte nach La Paz! Vor ein paar Jahren ist dort ein soziologisches Buch erschienen . . . Sie meinen Léon Biebers Studie über “Jüdisches Leben in Bolivien”? ES: Er ist auch Sohn von Emigranten. Mit seinem Buch hat er der ganzen Welt bewusst gemacht, was ich längst wusste, nämlich dass kein Mensch freiwillig in Bolivien blieb. Die Emigranten waren keineswegs dankbar, dass sie dort eingelassen wurden. Sie waren frech. Es kursierte das Wort, dass die Vorfahren der Bolivianer noch auf den Bäumen herumturnten, als die Vorfahren der Emigranten schon Zuckerkrankheit haten. Vermutlich gab es für Sie als Teenager kaum Möglichkeit, kulturell oder sonst wie Kontakt zu inden? ES: Wir haben fast keine Beziehung zu dieser Gesellschat bekommen. In Geschäten sprach man schon mit Bolivianern, aber die meisten Leute waren Indianer, mit denen sprach man nicht. Dann gab’s eine kleine Bourgeoisie in den größeren Städten—Regierungsangestellte, Militär, Geschätsleute—, aber die war erzkatholisch, erzkonservativ. Und wir waren, um es gelinde auszudrücken, befremdlich. Wir waren nicht nur Fremde, sondern man misstraute uns, und es gab Anwürfe, dass wir die Inlation ins Land gebracht häten oder obszöne Siten—weil wir, eher als die Bolivianer, die Frauen gelten ließen. Gab es ein gesellschatliches oder soziales Leben innerhalb der Emigranten-Community? ES: Ja, das gab’s. Es gab eine Emigrantenorganisation [Federación de Austriacos Libres], die ein bisschen wohltätig war, ein bisschen spielerisch, für Kinder, religiös . . . Da war doch das heater rund um Georg Terramare und Fritz Kalmar, eine Emigrantenbühne in La Paz. Haben Sie die gekannt? ES: Da war ich nicht mehr da. Man darf eines nicht vergessen, das ist ein Faktor, der kaum betont wird: das Alter, in dem man emigriert. Ich hate noch keine Ausbildung irgendeiner Art, die ich weiter verfolgen konnte, um mein Leben zu fristen, und von meinen Eltern wurde ich sofort getrennt, als ich 16 Jahre alt war . . . Wäre ich jünger gewesen, häte ich mich leichter angepasst. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Omasta and Seeber: Interview mit Egon Schwarz | 117 Aber ich war eben dazwischen und kein ganz unbeschriebenes Blat mehr. Das Gymnasium hat mich stark geprägt, obwohl ich’s nicht mochte. Es hat auch in meiner Autobiograie eine sehr schlechte Note bekommen. Andererseits schreiben Sie, die sechs Jahre Stubenbastei häten Ihnen ein Rüstzeug gegeben, einen Grundstock an Bildung, an Sprachen und die Möglichkeit, eine neue Sprache zu erlernen—also ein gewisses Fundament haben Sie schon mitgebracht. ES: Exakt, ich war eben undankbar. Die Menschen sind nicht dankbar. So war es eben. Diesen ganzen Ballast hab ich mitgenommen, weiß gar nicht, wozu. Das hat die sonderbarsten Szenen hervorgerufen: Die Indianer, die an den Wänden herumsaßen und Coca-Bläter kauten, die hab ich gefragt, wie sie heißen, und dann hab ich ihnen erzählt, dass sie berühmte Vorfahren haben, wenn einer Cervantes hieß—die haten natürlich keine Ahnung, von wem dieser trotelige Emigrantenjunge spricht. 16 war ein schreckliches Alter in jeder Hinsicht, auch erotisch, weil die jungen Emigrantinnen, die die einzigen waren, die für uns infrage kamen, sofort weggeheiratet wurden. Von Emigranten? ES: Ja, von Emigranten, die schon weiter gekommen waren—das war auch wieder eine Sache des Alters. Trotzdem haben Sie sich später mit ihrem alten Gymnasium wieder versöhnt. ES: Mit den Schulkameraden, zu ihnen ist eine enge Beziehung entstanden. Einige von uns haben’s in der übrigen Welt weit gebracht. Wir haben in Ihrem Buch ["Im Leben und in der Wissenschat: Mit Geduld kann man vieles erreichen. Erinnerungen, Porträts, Relexionen." Wien 2015] die Porträts über Henry Grunwald und andere Ihrer Schulkameraden gelesen, das ist sehr beeindruckend! ES: Der Heinzi Grünwald, ja. Der hat’s nach geläuigen Werten am weitesten gebracht. Sie doch auch! ES: Ich hab mir ein Orchideenfach ausgesucht, bevor ich wusste, was das war. Und da drinnen ist es leichter, bekannt zu werden als in einem richtigen Fach. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 118 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Gutes Stichwort: Ruth Klüger schreibt, sie habe zwei Dinge von Ihnen gelernt—dass man als Vertriebene trotz Hitler Germanistik studieren kann und dass Exilliteraturforschung kein wissenschatliches Exotikum ist, sondern eine ernsthate Disziplin. ES: Das erklärt sich aus dem großen Altersunterschied, sie ist ja zehn Jahre jünger. Als wir uns kennenlernten, auf den Stufen der berühmten Sproul Hall in Berkeley saßen, wo sich der Studentenfrühling abgespielt hat, und uns unsere Lebensgeschichten erzählten—da war sie grad am Anfang ihres Studiums und wusste ganz wenig von deutscher Literatur. Sie hate auch viel weniger Chancen . . . ES: Ja. Und ihr Buch ist wunderbar geschrieben. Den Ruhm, den sie hat, verdient sie auch. Nicht nur dafür, was sie erlebt hat, sondern auch dafür, was sie darüber redet. Ihr “weiterleben” ist eine Autobiograie und eine Meistererzählung zugleich. ES: Das ist es, ja. Bis auf die Retung. Es ist schon, wie Benjamin gesagt hat: “Kaum hat der Held sich selber geholfen, so hilt uns sein Dasein nicht länger”. Die Beschreibung, wie sie reüssiert und nach Amerika kommt, das war nicht mehr so interessant. Wie ist es dazu gekommen, dass Sie ab den 1960ern auch für große deutschsprachige Zeitungen geschrieben haben, die “Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung” zum Beispiel? ES: Das meiste, was geschieht, geschieht durch Zufall. Ich hab Marcel Reich-Ranicki in die USA eingeladen, als er noch bei der “Zeit” in Hamburg war. Da war er noch nicht abgebrüht und von Ehren überschütet, sondern eine Einladung nach Amerika war schon was. Dann wurde er Leiter der Literaturredaktion in der “FAZ” und hat Leute gesucht. Bei einigen hat sich herausgestellt, dass sie nicht schreiben konnten—die sind abgesprungen. Diejenigen, die schreiben konnten, sind geblieben . . . Also, Reich-Ranicki hat sich sehr bedankt für meine Einladung. Konnten Sie seinen Urteilen, die ja sehr ot extrem pointiert waren, manchmal auch eine polemische Wahrheit geborgen haben, immer etwas abgewinnen? Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Omasta and Seeber: Interview mit Egon Schwarz | 119 ES: Nein, nein, er hate ein sehr enges Verständnis von dem, was in der Literatur gut war. Aber er formulierte gut, war sehr schlagfertig, sehr frech. Und streitbar . . . ES: Streitbar war er. Also, wir sind uns schon in die Haare geraten, aber er war eine Erscheinung. Und auch da durten Sie im Grunde genommen schreiben, worüber Sie wollten? ES: Es war so ein Gemisch, Sachen, über die sie schreiben wollten, Sachen, über die ich schreiben wollte. Es war eine gute Kombination eigentlich. Aber in gesellschatlicher Hinsicht war Reich-Ranicki so eine Art Trump. Was meinen Sie? ES: Einmal gehen wir auf der Straße, zieht er eine Frau hinten so am Busenhalter und lässt den Gummi losschnalzen. Manieren waren das! Das wollen wir jetzt nicht vertiefen, aber bleiben wir noch kurz bei politisch Unkorrektem: Sie sind ein großer Freund der österreichischen Mehlspeisen, aber Indianerkrapfen oder Mohr im Hemd—das gibt’s ja eigentlich alles nicht mehr, zumindest nicht unter diesem Namen. ES: Nein, aber ich hab eine Konditorei, zu der ich hin geh’, und dort gibt’s das—Heiner in der Wollzeile. Das letzte Mal, wo ich hier war, gab’s das noch. Nicht nur die Mehlspeisen verschwinden, es machen sich auch die Bezeichnungen davon . . . ES: Auch die wienerische Sprache. Die ist gesunken auf der sozialen Leiter. Als ich aufwuchs, gab’s Wienerisch überall. Ich weiß nicht, ob das die Nazis waren, wodurch sich das so verändert hat. Kein Mensch sprach von einer Tasse Kafee, es hieß immer “Schalerl”. Besonders auf kulinarischem Gebiet ist Wienerisch sehr anders. Kein Mensch sonst weiß zum Beispiel, was Fisolen sind. Sie meinen, im Wortschatz unterscheidet sich das Wienerische noch am stärksten vom übrigen deutschen Sprachraum? ES: Und in der Aussprache. Man muss nur den Mund aufmachen, dann weiß man schon . . . Zum Beispiel darin bin ich eben auch anders als ande- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 120 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 re. Ich kann ganz gut Wienerisch, aber meine Standardsprache ist von tausend Einlüssen verändert worden. In Bolivien waren Menschen aus vielen Gegenden—das hat eingewirkt auf mein Deutsch. Leute glauben mir ot auf den Kopf zusagen zu können, dass ich einen spanischen Hintergrund habe . . . Ich bin ein hybrides Produkt. Meine erste Frau war Deutsche, Norddeutsche. Ich war 56 Jahre mit ihr verheiratet, und ihre Sprache hat Spuren auch in meiner zurückgelassen. Georg Stefan Troller erzählt in seiner “Selbstbeschreibung”, dass er Einladungen zu Vorträgen nach Wien gerne dazu benutzt, rund um den Börseplatz im Asphalt nach den Spuren ehemaliger Tramwaylinien zu suchen. Wie gehen Sie mit Wien um? ES: Ich war 16 Jahre in Südamerika und dann kam ich plötzlich wieder nach Europa, da zog’s mich sehr hierher. Wien war noch halb zerstört, und die Leute waren unangenehm—die Leute sind überhaupt unangenehm, ganz egal, wo sie sind . . . Ich war emotional ganz eingenommen von der Rückkehr nach Wien, war bei dem Haus, wo wir gewohnt haben, und da hab ich’s aus meinem System herausgekriegt. Und jetzt bin ich hier, ungerührt von Wien. Ich unterscheide mich immer noch von den Touristen, weil ich doch verbunden bin und weiß, wo was ist. Ich kenn auch Orte, die nicht angeschrieben sind oder nicht mehr heißen wie früher: Bellaria zum Beispiel, die Sirk-Ecke . . . Die heißt nicht mehr so . . . ES: Aber ich weiß, wo sie ist. Wie heißt sie jetzt? Gar nichts mehr. Kommen wir noch einmal zum hema Exil. Wenn man darüber forscht, muss man sich ot auch die Frage gefallen lassen: Ist das nicht eine Disziplin, die bald zu Ende gehen wird? Es gibt von Ihnen ein paar sehr gute Argumente, weshalb das Nachdenken über das Exil nicht zu Ende ist und angesichts einer Welt, die von Emigranten geradezu übergeht, auch nicht zu Ende sein kann. ES: Ich bin mir etwas unsicher, ob dieses Wort auch gut ist. Ich hab mich nie als Exilant gefühlt—als Emigrant, das schon. Exil ist eigentlich, wenn jemand noch an den Boden gebunden ist und zurückkehren will. Ovid war ein Exilant, aber ich hab ja keine “Tristia” geschrieben . . . Aber ich war auch kein Immigrant, in meinem Alter hab ich eigentlich jede Zugehörigkeit verloren: Ich konnt’s mit den Juden nicht, konnt’s mit den Christen nicht und mit den Amerikanern auch nicht. Ich hab keine Ahnung von der populären Musik, ich Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Omasta and Seeber: Interview mit Egon Schwarz | 121 hab keine Ahnung vom amerikanischen Sport, ich nehme die amerikanische Politik nicht ernst—also bin ich ein totaler Außenseiter, wirklich. Aber ich hab Freunde, meinen Kreis und meine Familie. Das kann nur ein Wissenschatler sagen! Man würde doch annehmen, dass es schon durch ihre Kinder notwendig wurde, sich auch für Sport zu interessieren—dem war nicht so? ES: Gut, ich hab mich früher ein bisschen mehr dafür interessiert. So ausgefallene Sportarten wie Tennis hab ich mir gern angeschaut, aber das hat meine Kinder nicht berührt. Die amerikanischen Sportarten sind Baseball, dann Football für die Größeren und Basketball. Das haben übrigens auch wir schon in der Schule gespielt. Da war ich sogar gut, ich war im Team der Stubenbastei. Was den ot beschworenen “Schlussstrich” unter die Vergangenheit betrit, schreiben Sie: Nichts ist so verschollen, als dass man nicht daraus lernen könnte. ES: Sie kennen meine Autobiograie besser als ich. Wir haben sie grade wiedergelesen. ES: Das würde ich vielleicht auch gern tun, aber meine Augen versagen, und ich inde niemand, der sie mir vorliest. Gibt es sie nicht als Hörbuch? ES: Es war immer davon die Rede, und dann wurde es nie gemacht. Aber das Hörbuch ist meine Art, Bücher doch noch aufzunehmen: Ich inde das fabelhat, weil es meistens sehr gute Vorleser sind, die auch faden Absätzen eine gewisse Geltung geben. Ein gut gelesenes Buch “is was Bsunders”! So wie die Bücher in Südamerika meinen geistigen Niedergang etwas gehemmt haben, so tun das die Audiobücher jetzt. Wie schreiben Sie dann jetzt Ihre Vorträge? ES: Es ist schwierig, der Computer liest mir vor, mit—um einen nichtwienerischen Ausdruck zu gebrauchen—einer hanebüchenen Aussprache. Ich werde dauernd abgelenkt durch die Aussprache. Das hör ich mir an und hofe, dass mich das beim Vortrag eher befreien als hindern wird. Ich rede jetzt also frei. Das hat den Vorteil, dass es lebendiger ist. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 122 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Übers Lesen hab ich einmal einen Essay geschrieben. Josef Haslinger, der Herausgeber der Zeitschrit “Wespennest”, hat mich damals eingeladen, eine theoretische Vorlesung zu halten über Literatur. Ich sagte, das könne ich nicht, aber ich könne eine theoretische Vorlesung über das Lesen halten. Dann hab ich nicht nur über das Lesen, sondern über das Wiederlesen spintisiert: Das ist eine eigene Art zu lesen, und das betreibe ich natürlich auch in dem Sinne, dass ich mir vorlesen lasse—das ist auch eine Art des Wiederlesens. Wo und wie haben Sie gelernt, frei vorzutragen? ES: Früh. Ich wurde unverdienterweise und sehr früh an die Harvard University berufen. Ich war mir bewusst über die Besonderheit dieses Autrags und schrieb alles auf, was ich den Schülern sagen wollte, studierte es beim Frühstück noch einmal und dann las ich’s vor. Es war ein großer Zulauf zu dieser Vorlesung, aber irgendwie klappte es nicht. Und dann geschah Folgendes: Ich kam siegesbewusst herein, öfnete meine Tasche und— der Vortrag war nicht da. Ich wollte im Erdboden versinken, was man aber bekanntlich nicht kann. Und so blieb mir nichts anderes übrig, als mich zu erinnern, was in dem Vortrag drinstand. Das war nicht sehr schwierig, denn ich hate es in der Früh gerade noch gelesen, und so machte ich zwei fabelhate Erfahrungen. Die erste war, dass die Studenten zum ersten Mal richtig zuhörten, und zweitens, dass ich nur die Hälte des Erarbeiteten vortrug und also schon vorbereitet war für die nächste Sitzung. Ich glaub, das letzte war das Wichtigere: Das retete meinen Beruf, denn ich häte das unmöglich durchgehalten, immer auszuschreiben und vorzulesen. Ich hab mir Stichwörter gemacht, dann hab ich das umstickt und umhäkelt. Es war dann doch ganz gut, auch davon lernt man eine Menge. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews Wolfgang Matz, Adalbert Stiter oder Diese fürchterliche Wendung der Dinge: Biographie. Götingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2016. 391 pp. A bibliographic search for Wolfgang Matz’s book Adalbert Stiter oder Diese fürchterliche Wendung der Dinge: Biographie, will yield two results a 1995 volume published by Carl Hanser Verlag and an edition brought out by Wallstein Verlag over twenty years later, in 2016. he irst version is not mentioned on the newer book’s cover or front mater, but it is acknowledged by the author in an appendix section, “Nachwort zur Neuausgabe,” and in the book jacket blurb, which runs, “Die ‘ausgezeichnete Biograie’ (Die Zeit) erscheint hier in einer gründlich überarbeiteten und erweiterten Neuausgabe.” hroughout the 2016 book, minor changes have been made to improve clarity, sharpen emphasis, and streamline style. hese include changes at the level of word choice, sentence construction, and punctuation. From time to time a clause or sentence is added or omited. Organization is improved by changes in paragraph breaks and inclusion of new subtitles. In particular, the titles of several literary works have been added as subtitles of chapters identifying phases of Stiter’s life, thus more closely tying together the book’s dual biographical and literary chronologies. Larger changes are identiied in the “Nachwort”: “Mehrere Abschnite wurden deutlich erweitert, besonders die zur Französischen Revolution und zu der Erzählung Zuversicht, sowie die Darstellung zu Stiters letzter Erzählung Aus der bairischen Walde. Der Rang der Nachkommenschaten ist mir tatsächlich erst spät aufgegangen” (367). he author notes that the book’s bibliography is selective and not signiicantly expanded in the second edition. Indeed, only four sources published ater 1995 are listed. he book’s revisions and expanded discussions ofer some new maJOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES, VOL. 50, NO. 1–2 © 2018 AUSTRIAN STUDIES ASSOCIATION Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 124 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 terial, but mainly they relect the author’s atempts to rethink and more cogently express the ideas developed in the irst edition. Both versions, of course, emphasize Stiter’s meditations on personal loneliness, resignation, and failure; on the power and destructiveness of nature; and on mysteries of fate and the cosmos. Highlighted are paradoxes in Stiter’s life and oeuvre, relected in several provocative phrases. hese include the title, a quotation from one of Stiter’s stories, “Diese fürchterliche Wendung der Dinge”; the new edition’s opening moto by Paul Valéry, “Zwei Gefahren bedrohen unauhörlich die Welt: die Ordnung und die Unordnung”; and the haunting title of its inal chapter, “In die weiße Finsternis,” a phrase from the well-known story “Bergkristall,” in which children get lost in a blizzard. With deep insight into the man and his writings as well as empathy for Stiter’s sorrows, depressions, and dark moods, Matz traces the course of Stiter’s life and writings against a backdrop of contrasting beauty and idealism and dark pessimism and bleakness. he political turmoil of Stiter’s age and the misfortunes of his life, including family and inancial troubles, and his psychological and literary reactions to them, despite his successes, provide Matz’s readers with an understanding of the oten troubled phases of Stiter’s life that culminated in his ghastly suicide by cuting his own throat. In the 2016 book here under review, Matz skillfully integrates Stiter’s factual and psychological biography with chronological discussions of his ictional works; as a result, the book is smooth, uniied, and compelling. A generally convincing and thorough portrait of Stiter is drawn, supported by pertinent references to his iction. His works contain real landscapes and places as well as his traces of his experiences of revolution and political instability, lost love, and inancial and marital diiculties, including childlessness. His own emotional turmoil and swings from idealism and hope to resignation and despair also infuse his writings. In addition to identifying straightforward inluences of Stiter’s real life in his iction, Matz also refers to the author’s contrasting expressive strategy of reacting to negative experiences by transforming them into positive ones in his iction. Matz oten refers to passages creating such mirror images as “wishes” or “wish fulillment” in which beautiful and idealized places, people, relationships and situations are oten labeled “utopian.” To cite one memorable example, in Der Waldbrunnen Stiter names a character Juliane and places her in a fairy tale–like story with a happy ending: She is an intelligent and loving Roma girl who acquires European civilization and Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 125 marries a ine man of high social station. he real Juliane is Stiter’s niece and foster daughter. According to Matz this girl reportedly endured years of abuse, including overwork, beatings, and starvation, at the hands of Stiter’s wife Amalia. On her second disappearance from home, the runaway commits suicide by drowning. Relating this terrible event, Matz refers to the words of the biography’s title: “Stiter war wie vernichtet. Diese Wendung der Dinge war fürchterlicher als alles, was ihm bisher begegnet war” (304). hroughout this biography, Matz connects Stiter’s life and writings— both of which he knows very well—and ofers insights, albeit brief and selective, into a great many, in fact most, of Stiter’s works. His use of material from Stiter’s life to interpret his literary creation recalls the tradition of “biographical” literary criticism, which is oten maligned as naive and simplistic. However, Matz’s purpose is in large part the opposite of “biographical” criticism, namely using details from Stiter’s iction to contribute to interpretation of his life. In concluding remarks, Matz comments on his project: “Denn eine Faktensammlung ist ja noch keine Biographie [ . . . ] Erst die Beziehungen zwischen Individualität und äußerer Wirklichkeit in der Lebenswelt, zwischen Besonderem und Allgemeinem im Inneren der Menschen, erst die Darstellung dieses komplexen, tausendfältigen Gefüges könnte etwas wie die Zeichnung einer Existenz ergeben, die mehr wäre als Vorwand für einen Text” (370). Pamela S. Saur Lamar University Pamela S. Saur, he Spiritual Meaning of Material hings in the Novels of Adalbert Stiter (1805–1868): A Study in Poetic Realism. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2015. 212 pp. At the center of Pamela S. Saur’s monograph on the Austrian author Adalbert Stiter is an interest in “the complex ways in which abstract virtues, ideals, and spiritual elements coexist with the concrete world of the earth, substances, and things” (5). Contemporary literary history acknowledges a strong atempt at balance in the works of German Realism, which was frequently referred to as “Idealrealismus” by Stiter’s contemporaries. Indeed, Stiter is progressively understood by literary scholars as an author who epitomizes a Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 126 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 sense of balance. Saur rejects the outdated charge that Stiter was preoccupied with a simple description of the material world by showing how his representations of material objects are typically saturated with social signiicance. he book is divided into two parts. he irst part, “Interactions with the Material,” explores the material objects in which Stiter’s characters come into contact. Although Saur, to a great extent, yields a basic checklist of personal belongings, she also emphasizes the cultural context of material items, although the examples she provides are not always connected in any meaningful way. Chapter 1, “Ownership of Possessions,” for example, discusses the items (furniture, books) that are found within a bourgeois home, and she speciically atributes these possessions to the particular virtues of Biedermeier Austria. She also locates the value of such possessions in the continuity of generations, another important theme of nineteenth-century realist literature. In chapter 3, “Giving and Receiving Gits,” Saur introduces the anthropological representations of git giving as a social custom. She atributes various gits to corresponding circumstances, such as marriage or victories in batle, yet she does not typically ofer much insight into the social practices themselves. As a result, analyses remain predominantly internal to the texts that she introduces. In the second part of the book, “Meanings of the Material,” Saur shits mostly toward natural objects: stones (chapter 5), as well as jewels and pearls (chapter 6). hese chapters are rightly distinguished from the manmade objects explored in the irst part of the book, yet the author does not emphasize this distinction. Rather, she claims quite generally to “address the meanings of substances given particular, even fundamental, signiicance” (7). With regard to stones, she underscores Stiter’s personal interest in geology, contextualizing it within a growing public interest in such ields. his chapter also allows the author to focus on multiple stories from Stiter’s Bunte Steine collection. Due to this centrality, this chapter would act as a valuable source for students seeking a general introduction to this popular collection of stories. In general, Saur’s analyses would be beneicial to undergraduate students and general readers seeking a survey of Adalbert Stiter, irst because she gives particular atention to his well-known works, namely Der Nachsommer, Witiko, and Bunte Steine. Second, Saur’s cataloguing provides initial access to Stiter’s masterly descriptive realism but also importantly indicates the complex cultural contexts that inform his material representations. Furthermore, the book reads easily, and as it evades theory altogether, it also avoids heavy Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 127 jargon. Her frequent return to the concepts of Biedermeier and Bildung maintains for the general reader a focused encounter with Stiter’s texts. Saur’s inquiry into Stiter would have beneited from a more explicit exposition of the cultural contexts speciic to his various works. Relatedly, the study would also have beneited from a deeper engagement with secondary literature. She points toward some of this literature in the “Selected Secondary Literature” section at the end of the book but does not engage directly with much of this scholarship in her analyses. Additionally, the book’s subtitle, “A Study in Poetic Realism,” is odd, because she does not actively take up the mater of Realism as a literary style or period. On the contrary, Saur emphasizes a general idealist tendency in Stiter’s literary works. She restricts these texts to products of an author and restricts the author to a irm set of Biedermeier values. Saur does not alter the standard account about Adalbert Stiter as an author or the standard readings of his works. And she does not seek to do so. She aims to take seriously the claims about the relationship between the speciic and the general that Stiter asserts in the famous Vorrede to Bunte Steine. Saur seeks to take stock of the speciic representations of material objects and illustrate how they correspond to sets of social values. Her study ofers a guided tour through Stiter’s museum of material objects. Mathew J. Sherman he University of Texas at Austin John Deak, Forging a Multinational State: State Making in Imperial Austria rom the Enlightenment to the First World War. Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 2015. 355 pp. While John Deak’s thorough study was not writen to coincide with this year’s commemoration of Francis Joseph’s demise one hundred years ago—the book begins, ater all, with the dynamics of Austrian governance under Joseph II in 1780—it is certainly a welcome and valuable contribution to the remembrance of Francis Joseph and his long reign of nearly seven decades. Deak counters the dominant paradigm of Francis Joseph as the last towering igure of an empire that was destined to fail because it was an outdated, medieval, multinational state entrenched against the modern nation-state model Hegel proclaimed as the endpoint in history. What Deak ofers instead is “a new Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 128 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 history of the Austrian state-building project” (4), focusing on the intentions of central reformers “who continually sought to reine the Austrian state between 1740 and 1914” (6); he also tells the story of “how the bureaucracy came to be both the glue which held the state together and the lubricant which ameliorated its natural friction” (9). In short, instead of regarding Francis Joseph as synonymous with the decline of the Habsburg Empire, Deak seeks to “convince” (17) his readers that the Habsburg’s complex monarchy was “a continually evolving polity” (16), not unlike the current European Union, providing a counterpoint to the all-too-popular bashing of (the imperial) bureaucracy or civil service (9). In addition to relatively accessible documents, Deak cites a variety of primary sources he uncovered, including “memoirs, handbooks, reports, private leters, statistical handbooks, and manuals on regulations” (7–8), materials that allow him to present in six chronological chapters how the central imperial state was able to set up multiple levels of intertwined administrative layers fueled by an ethos of civil service that persisted ater the reign of the reformer Joseph II. Deak’s perhaps too-friendly view of the Habsburg Empire and its educated elite leads, however, to several rather questionable assessments, such as his observation that “while Francis and Ferdinand ruled under the banner of reaction, they were not reactionaries” (61), supposedly because they let untouched the ethos of Josephinism, maintaining their “faith in its role as the motor of progress and development” (62). Similarly, he evaluates in contradictory terms Alexander Bach’s administration by suggesting that it “may have been oppressive in the public sphere, but this guardianship of society also came with, and supplemented, both institutional modernization and economic development” (132). Deak’s favorable opinion of the ever-evolving multinational and complex empire stems from his positive atitude toward the educated elite, or the Beamten, and their best intentions for a functioning, impartial, and progressive state in which central and local needs are ever coordinated or balanced. he author correspondingly downplays social frictions resulting from the economic modernization process or national conlicts, contextualizing them within continuous atempts to stabilize or make the empire-state work from within its administrative structures. A case in point is the so-called Stremayr Language Ordinance, which “elevated the Czech language to oicial status alongside German in Bohemia and Moravia” (203). Yet for Deak these nationalist politics “played an insigniicant role in comparison to the qualities Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 129 necessary to represent the empire” (204). In other words, when taking consistently the view from the center of the empire “without privileging ideas of decline or a particular nation’s rise” (271), a narrative emerges by which the paternalistic state lexibly deals “with the complexities of multinational, popular participation in policy making” (269). From this vantage point, Deak then concludes that the Habsburg Empire “was not ultimately defeated on the ield of batle,” noting that “in 1918 were no areas of the Habsburg Empire under enemy occupation” (264–65). Rather, the “war did not continue the process of state making, but ended it” (274). And while Deak admits “signs of decline in the long sweep of history in Habsburg monarchy” (271), such as the repressive stagnation of the Biedermeier in the years before the 1848 revolution and military defeats in the 1850s and 1860s, he nevertheless argues for an alternative narrative that is radical in that it views the fractured state from within its center. he extent to which Deak will sway readers may depend on their willingness to accept a strong endorsement of a conservative monarchy. Nonetheless, Deak’s book is a refreshing alternative to an all-too-self-assuring myth of the inevitable decline of the Habsburg dynasty. Peter Höyng Emory University Elie Poulain, Einführung in die Literaturpragmatik mit einer Beispielanalyse von Kakas Roman Der Prozess. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2015. 110 pp. Elie Poulain’s book Einführung in die Literaturpragmatik mit einer Beispielanalyse von Kaka’s Roman Der Prozess is aptly titled. he irst portion, more than half of the slim volume, ofers an explication of the linguistic ield of pragmatics, deining pertinent terms, quoting important theorists, and supplying some examples of applications to literary works. here follows the most original section, a well-executed pragmatic analysis of Franz Kaka’s novel Der Prozess. his volume (called a “Lehrbuch” on the back cover) belongs to a pedagogical series, “Sprachwissenschat Studienbücher,” published by the Winter Universitätsverlag of Heidelberg. Although it is also of scholarly interest beyond the classroom, it will serve well as a useful and well-organized textbook to help students understand and apply one important contemporary method of literary analysis. Kaka scholars might wish that the brief dis- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 130 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 cussion of Kaka had been enhanced by relating it to some of the innumerable existing studies of his work, including many involving language and thought processes. However, that would have gone beyond the scope of the project. Without a doubt it fulills the purposes given in the title. he introduction, “Sprachpragmatik und Literaturtheorie,” begins with comments on the relationships that bind language, literature, and reality, in particular countering the view that pragmatics is relevant to historical reality and ordinary, “alltägliche” language, not the invented, ictional world of literature. Wolfgang Iser, who has stated that iction communicates aspects of reality by means of “Sprachhandlungen und kommunikativem Handeln auf iktionaler Ebene,” is quoted (8). Ater detailing several other approaches, Poulain notes that interest in applying pragmatic linguistics to literature emerged toward the end of the twentieth century. he section “Die Grundzüge der Pragmatik” introduces the classical “pragmatic triangle,” namely semantics (meaning), syntax (adherence to grammatical rules), and pragmatics, which focuses on the efects of discourse in various contexts. A key question is whether a language act succeeds or fails. Considered are the intentions of the speaker, the reference or content of the uterance, the addressee, and the context. Pragmatics emphasizes analysis of speech acts as developed by John Austin and John Searle. Searle identiied types of “uterance acts” as propositional, illocutionary (for example, a promise), and perlocutionary (those with external consequences and efects in social interactions). Illocutionary acts convey the speaker’s intentions, whereas perlocutionary acts aim at persuading the addressee to act, to carry out the speaker’s wishes. Further, Austin distinguished between constative uterances, which provide information that can be veriied or refuted, and performative uterances. he later type are not judged as true or false; they involve the pragmatic use to which the speaker puts them. Among the literary genres, Poulain asserts that pragmatic analysis is most useful when applied to the novel, which emphasizes communicative and social interactions between characters and their social environment. Pragmatic concepts are useful tools to analyze characters’ actions, reactions, and motivations. Relevant are gestures, actions, and words of both speaker and addressee, as well as time, place, and situation as well as social and normative cultural roles. Additional factors in analyzing ictional discourse are literature’s complex relationships to reality and difering types of narration, such as the om- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 131 niscient narrator and the traditional irst-person narrator who is not privy to the inner life of other characters. In the twentieth century the “inner monologue” or “stream of consciousness” was developed, as well as “personal” narration which, according to Poulain, Kaka used almost exclusively. An exemplary passage from Kaka’s novel Der Verschollene is given. As Poulain explains, at irst there is no trace of a narrator; the reader is thrust into the action. hen it seems that someone is observing, and it turns out to be Karl, the protagonist, although irst-person pronouns are not used. Poulain states, “Die Wirklichkeit wird so dargestellt, wie Karl sie wahrnimmt, und der Leser erfährt nur das, was im Wissenshorizont der Romangestalt steht” (59). his type of narration seems more authentic to contemporary readers than traditional narrators who know and interpret authoritatively all of the relevant aspects of characters’ past, present, future, and inner lives. Poulain opens the chapter on Der Prozeß with a key question: “Wie kommt es, dass Josef K. am Ende der Romanhandlung ganz bescheiden seine Schuld anerkennt, wo er doch zu Beginn laut und stark seine Unschuld beteuerte?” (81). She comments on the levels of narration: “Der doppelten Wirkung der Sprechakte in Bezug auf Handlung und Bewusstsein entspricht auch die doppelte Struktur dieses Romans, denn die erzählten Geschehnisse spielen sich simultan auf der Ebene der Fakten und auf der Ebene des Bewusstseins des Protagonisten ab” (81). Her analysis traces Josef K.’s verbal interactions with his social environment, as represented by a series of people with various roles. Such communication is intertwined with spatial and situational contexts as well as the development of Josef K.’s thoughts, interpretations, and self-image. Poulain arrives at an answer to the question posed above regarding K.’s acceptance of guilt: “Auf der Bewusstseinsebene allerdings werden die illokutionären und perlokutionären Efekte sichtbar, die die Reden und Handlungen der anderen Gestalten auf seine Person ausüben” (100). Interactions with his social environment, especially representatives of the court, bring about a progressive change in K.’s consciousness. However, Poulain does not overstate the results of the pragmatic approach. It produces no pat interpretation of the novel. Doubt and uncertainty remain: “Das Ende des Romans verbleibt ebenso rätselhat wie die anfängliche Frage. [ . . . ] Die Ohnmacht des Menschen angesichts seines Schickals wird in diesem Roman deutlich” (98). Pamela S. Saur Lamar University Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 132 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Joachim Kersten and Friedrich Pfälin, Detlev von Liliencron endeckt, gefeiert und gelesen von Karl Kraus. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 464 pp. Any irst impression of this book as covering a narrow range vanishes on examining its breadth more closely. It presents “alle erreichbaren gedruckten und ungedruckten 78 Briefe, Postkarten and Telegramme von Liliencron an Kraus und die 12 Schritstücke von Kraus an Liliencron” (443). If it were conined to that, its value would indeed be limited, but the editors ofer such thorough contextual information and include so many more leters that this study emerges as comprehensive in its record of literary history, politics, and networking from the early 1890s to World War I. Almost no writer active through those years is let out, thanks to a rich apparatus identifying and placing every person or work mentioned in the correspondence. he annotations are in themselves comprehensive and reveal meticulous detective work as Pfälin, the editor of the correspondence, leads us through persons, places, and things for a full education in the literature of the period. As Pfälin remarks in a prefatory note (98): “Der Briefwechsel, mit Dokumenten belegt und kommentierend nacherzählt, lässt erstaunen.” he editor’s remark applies equally to the biography of Liliencron (9–95) prepared by Kersten that precedes the correspondence. he irst astonishment comes in reading a detailed portrait of the artist. You could never make up the story of “Liliencrons Leben, seine lebensgewandten, lebenshungrigen Seiten mit ihren Niederlagen und Nöten, seine geniale, unwiderstehliche Pumpwirtschat” (98). He was an impecunious Prussian oicer-aristocrat with a distinguished combat career; a wanderer who gave piano lessons in Texas and lived in a lophouse in New York; a poet whose appearance disconcerted audiences (“Es ist geradezu mein Stolz, daß ich immer für einen Fetwarenhändler gehalten werde,” 69); and an eroticist with a ierce, unbridled gusto for sex that lasted into his late years and about which he was amazingly candid. His leters almost burst of the page in their humor, immediacy, and concentrated intensity of living. he second and greater surprise is the extent to which Liliencron was esteemed as man and artist. It really does appear as if no one ever disliked him despite his incessant cadging; afability on both sides—it does not exclude hilarious frankness—never falters or wears thin. Negative assessements do seem not to exist. And while critics like Josef Nadler began to turn their noses up at his allegedly shallow poetry starting in the 1930s, his reputation be- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 133 fore that ranked him among the very best lyricists. Audiences locked to his readings ater he started to become well known. One of his early commentators, Harry Maync, noted that Liliencron’s tone was “quellfrisch und unabgestanden [ . . . ] kühn und vielfach drastisch” (17). Karl Kraus, never quickly fooled or easily pleased, proclaimed conidently as early as 1892: “Es giebt in Deutschland einen Dichter, einen echten Dichter [ . . . ] Detlev Freiherr von Liliencron. [ . . . ] In seinen Gedichten schlägt der Pulsschlag des Lebens, warmen Lebens, das reichste Herz und der feinste Kopf spricht aus ihnen” (102). Nor did Kraus’s admiration ever wane or falter. he pitiless rancor and biting satire for which Kraus was famous are never in evidence here; his respect for Liliencron extended to a glowing memorial in Der Fackel in March 1914, when some of the poet’s leters were published (348–52), and it was Kraus’s habit, when he gave readings of his great jeremiad “In dieser großen Zeit,” to end with a selection of Liliencron’s poems—lyrics by a combat oicer in opposition to militarism! he title of the book bears out its achievement, and chapters grouped around prevalent themes chronologically presented trace the relationship in full. Typical titles, then, are “Erinnerungszeichen für Annie Kalmar und Hugo Wolf: 1903” (218–27) and “Liliencrons Nachlass und wie man damit umgeht: Richard Dehmel und Karl Kraus: 1909–1914” (312–52). he correspondence itself touches on every literary personality and development of the time—the denunciations of Hauptmann and Wedekind, publishers’ intrigues, the afection in which Altenberg was held, the fastidiousness of Hofmannsthal, the impact of “shockers” like Bierbaum and Dehmel, the rise and fall of now totally forgoten names—even seasoned readers will need the brilliantly thorough and excellently researched commentary to keep the history in context. Seldom has a picture of an era emerged more vividly than through Pfälin’s unassuming but indispensable apparatus. One could do much worse than read through this commentary to get a full overview of literature in Germany and Austria at the time. For that reason alone, this volume is important beyond its narrower subject. he second watchword, in addition to Pfälin’s “erstaunen,” is from Kersten, the other editor: “Die Liliencron-Philologie liegt im Argen [ . . . ] Die Germanisten haben eine Aufgabe; genauer gesagt: Sie sind in der Plicht” (95). he major edition is still the eight-volume Gesammelte Werke prepared by Richard Dehmel in 1911–1912. Even Walter Hetche’s edition of Ausgewählte Werke from 2009 is forced to proceed from this source. hat state of af- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 134 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 fairs might be suitable for a poet of lesser quality, but reading even slightly beyond the standard, no-longer-so-oten anthologized chestnuts astonishes in its turn, revealing a major voice by any standard. “Auf einem Bahnhof ” (reprinted here, 48–49), as just one example, has an authentically, compellingly apocalyptic tone, while the amusing mock-epic Poggred, a satire worthy of Byron’s Don Juan (Liliencron subtitled it a “Kunterbuntes Epos in vierundzwanzig Cantussen”), appears to be just about totally forgoten. Kersten und Pfälin perform a service no less great than calling a major poet back to consciousness and showing how a seemingly remote corner of literary correspondence reveals the soul of a whole era. his book is highly recommended. Vincent Kling La Salle University Stijn de Cauwer, A Diagnosis of Modern Life: Robert Musil’s “Der Mann ohne Eigenschaten” as a Critical-Utopian Project. Brussels: Peter Lang, 2014. 278 pp. Writing a critical study of Musil’s magnum opus is a formidable challenge. It involves thinking and feeling your way into the vast, uninished text with all its variants, now accessible digitally. It demands familiarity with the everincreasing secondary literature. Perhaps the greatest challenge is the need to balance a detailed examination of selected parts of the text with a wideranging awareness of all of the aspects of modernity that concerned Musil. Musil was, in Allen hiher’s words, “a writer’s writer,” a man who drew on deep knowledge of science, psychology, philosophy, and literature and who believed that only a work that combined all of those ways of understanding the world could do justice to the complexity of modernity. Stijn de Cauwer faces up to this challenge in this work. It is based on a PhD dissertation on Musil writen at the University of Utrecht that has been expanded through his current work in the Literature and Cultural Studies Department of the University of Leuven. De Cauwer’s Flemish/Dutch background is a valuable resource for Musil studies, as he is both sensitive to questions of cultural and national identity and familiar with areas of French and Dutch thought in a way that Musil scholars in Germany or the US might not be. De Cauwer’s work is writen primarily from a cultural studies perspective, and the scope of his book (which includes digressions on Bergson, Georges Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 135 Canguilhem, and Hans Achterhuis) is appropriately wide for a monograph on Musil. In the introduction, De Cauwer looks at Musil as a cultural theorist and stresses the open-ended and experimental nature of his work. He refers to a key chapter in the novel (chapter 100 of Book 1) in which General Stumm von Bordwehr enters the Hobibliothek in search of “ein Buch über die Verwirklichung des Wichtigsten” but discovers that among the 3.5 million books there, no such volume exists: In modernity, there is vast expansion of specialized knowledge, but a synthesis of the whole is no longer possible. he collapse of the old order has, however, let a void in the hearts of modern men, and De Cauwer concludes that “For Musil, the incapacity to face modern life is irst and foremost a moral problem” (26). Der Mann ohne Eigenschaten is an avant-garde ictional experiment that sets out to explore new ethical directions, beter ways of living in the modern age. Ater this, there are three quite lengthy main chapters in De Cauwer’s book. he irst, “Musil’s Critique of Moral and Ideological Rigidity,” focuses on Musil’s atack on calciied moral concepts, which De Cauwer rightly sees as originating in the ideas of Musil’s spiritual guide, Nietzsche. Within this “hollowed-out old moral order,” the inhabitants of Kakania, unable to come to terms with the complexities of the present, turn to the rigid ideologies of state, nation, and race. here is perhaps not much new critical material here—De Cauwer refers oten to the work on Musil by Stefan Jonsson (2000) and Patrizia McBride (2006)—but there are particular insights that illuminate Musil’s thinking, for instance, his reminder (107) that Musil was educated in the sciences at a time when the sciences themselves were in crisis and could no longer ofer certainty. In the second chapter, De Cauwer examines the “critical-utopian” aspects of Musil’s novel. He refers to “the unique complexity and strength of [the] novel” (117), and the strongest parts of this chapter are those that reject the views of earlier critics, particularly Lukács and later Reich-Ranicki, for whom Musil was a “graphomaniac,” a man who endlessly explored pseudopossibilities without direction. Instead, De Cauwer emphasizes that earlier critics speculated too much on what the end of the novel might have been. He argues instead that “the novel had to remain uninished for strictly internal reasons” (147). Noting that the conversations of Ulrich and Agathe are oten accompanied by an “ironic, mildly self-mocking tone,” he does not think that these chapters could ever have formed a conclusion to the book. He suggests that Musil’s secular mysticism was a kind of fruitful combination of the fee- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 136 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 lings and the intellect, but one that was bound to be temporary, given that an enduring return to “wholeness” is no longer possible. he inal chapter examines the function of the “pathological” in Musil’s cultural critique. De Cauwer thinks that Lukács and, later, Louis Sass (in Madness and Modernism) were wrong to see Musil as a writer obsessed with the pathological and the estranged from the everyday world. He argues that Musil’s constant foregrounding of shocking, criminal, or insane behavior is part of a sharp analysis of his times, of a society that is itself in a pathological state. He refers here to Canguilhem’s idea that to be sick is to be stuck in inadequate moral norms—that a possible deinition of health is being able to create new moral norms. He also looks at Musil’s critique of the law in the novel and at the igure of Clarisse and her visit to an asylum (the Nachlaß chapter Besuch im Irrenhaus). In addition to a conclusion, there is a postscript about Musil’s relevance today, in light of the nationalist reaction to European integration and the rise of xenophobic populism in the EU. he strengths of this book are its ability to cope with Musil’s complexity and the deep knowledge of his work, which is not limited to the novel but also includes analysis of the essay Der deutsche Mensch als Symptom and Musil’s 1937 speech Über die Dummheit. Its organization and methodology might have beneited from more atention, however. It is writen in a stimulating way, without jargon and with many interesting generalizations, but reads at times like a series of seminar papers rather than a fully integrated book— for example, the digressions are not always suiciently linked to the main topic and have footnotes that are oten excessively long. Second, although this is a work of cultural studies not literary criticism, there are quite a few sections where the general points needed to be supported by detailed reference to the text of the novel but are not: For example, when he claims that Musil’s symbols of the old order are outmoded, he does not show how the igure of Count Leinsdorf is at the same time imbued with sympathy; he mentions Musil’s atack on irrationalism and “gurus and prophets” but not his pseudosage Meingast; he brackets Ulrich’s father and Professor Lindner but should have made it clear that the satire of these two igures is very diferent—and also, in the case of Lindner, amusing, too—the arch-pedagogue who has no inluence over his teenage son! Lastly, although the English has clearly been checked, there are a number of slips in it which should have been corrected before publication. Malcolm Spencer Notingham Trent University, UK Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 137 Agata Zoia Mirecka, Max Brods Frauenbilder im Kontext der Feminitätsdiskurse einiger anderer Prager deutscher Schritsteller. Warschauer Studien zur Germanistik und zur Angewandten Linguistik. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang, 2014. 148 pp. Although several of Max Brod’s novels have recently reappeared in new editions, the scholarly atention paid to Brod’s oeuvre pales in comparison to the bright light shone on his beter-known friend and fellow Prague German, Franz Kaka. Agata Mirecka’s study on Brod’s representation of women ventures onto relatively untrodden ground. Indeed, as Mirecka states in her foreword, such work is vital because Brod’s images of women have not yet been extensively studied, even though the topic was of great importance to Brod himself (12). Furthermore, she asserts that her analysis of the diferent functions that women serve—wife, lover, mother—over the long span of his creative period will show Brod’s “innere Entwicklung” (13). hus, Mirecka emphasizes Brod’s biography in order to highlight the relationship between Brod’s lived experience and its literary representation (13). Finally, by comparing his work with that of other Prague German authors she hopes to shed more light on Brod’s image of the feminine, and the ambivalence of his depiction of women should thus contribute to a “Neubewertung” (13) of his work. She sets the theoretical bar prety high by declaring that she will uncover the “sinnbildlichen semiotischen Prozess, durch den Max Brods Verständnis vom Weiblichen und von der Frau bestimmt wird” (14). In the end, however, her analytical scope is a bit too narrow to accomplish this goal. Ater the brief foreword, where Mirecka introduces her project, come three short chapters on Brod’s biography and the intellectual context for his work; the history of the Prague Circle; and the theoretical foundations of her own work. hese are followed by a much longer chapter on the diferent categories of female characters in Brod’s work, ater which Mirecka includes three short chapters dedicated to a summary of her indings on Brod’s images of women, a comparison to four other well-known Prague German authors (and their representation of women), and a brief conclusion. he strengths of Mirecka’s work lie in her ability to depict the milieu in which Brod grew to intellectual maturity, which accounts for the sophistication of his worldview. She has also chosen an interesting selection of Brod’s less-known iction. hough her narrative of Brod’s formative years in multicultural Prague does not break new ground, it is very appealingly told. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 138 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 She introduces his parents briely—gentle father, exacting and controlling mother—and the tremendous physical challenges that young Brod faced, a potential tragedy for someone who “dürstete [ . . . ] nach Schönheit” (18). Mirecka then moves on to Brod’s university years, his friendship with Kaka, and his early, short-lived enthusiasm for Schopenhauer. She takes us quickly through the critical literature of his early expressionistic work, Schloss Nornepygge, its “Indiferentismus,” and Brod’s almost immediate rejection of Expressionism even as this novel was being hailed by this movement in Berlin (20–21). Mirecka also touches upon Brod’s “Entwicklung als Jude” (22) through exposure to Martin Buber and heodor Herzl. Brod subsequently developed his idea of “Distanzliebe” as a way of creating true exchange and understanding between cultures (25), a concept that he continued to develop throughout his life. Evidence of such cultural bridge-building is to be found in Brod’s early recognition of Czech talents such as Jaroslav Hašek and Leoš Janaček (26) as well as his political involvement in interwar Prague. Mirecka does not dwell on these interwar years but jumps ahead to 1938 and Brod’s escape as the Nazis marched into Czechoslovakia. She ends the short chapter on Brod’s beliefs about touching ininity within a mortal life and his engagement for humanity as a whole (31). Mirecka’s next chapter, on the Prague Circle, is also relevant: She summarizes the history of the German-speaking Czechs in Prague, citing Margarita Pazi, an eminent Brod scholar, to explain the enormous burst of creativity among the members of this group and its best-known representative, Kaka (34). Unfortunately, Mirecka’s very interesting review of Brod’s life and the Prague Circle is not made to serve her analysis of his literature: She does not connect her discussion of Brod’s female characters back to any of the weighty moral, literary, or historical claims made by the members of the circle themselves. Indeed, it is disappointing that, ater a relatively nuanced look at his biography and an even more serious nod to his broad and humanistic thinking, she can abandon this as irrelevant to her project ostensibly because such an analysis would be of the “rein geistesgeschichtlichen” sort (14). Similarly, the comparison to other Prague German authors does not delve deeply beneath the surface. hus, what was supposed to be a reading of Brod’s development as a portrayer (or lover) of women is simply a collection of thematically related snippets from Brod’s work. Her analysis is litle more than plot summary wherein she reductively maps the prevailing sexist notions of women of the time onto Brod’s works. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 139 In going down such a narrow path, Mirecka excises the characters from the narrative complexities that surround them and thus does not fulill the promise of her broad introductory chapters. hough one could certainly examine, for example, a novel like Die Frau, nach der man sich sehnt (1927) from a feminist perspective, such an analysis falls short if it does not take Brod’s multidimensional humanism into consideration. For Brod, the notion of “die Frau, nach der man sich sehnt” opens up the possibility of something unchanging or transcendent in the seeming chaos of the modern world. In the end, Mirecka’s analysis of Brod’s iction relies solely on the one-to-one correlation she establishes between his biography and his iction. She rejects a sustained and close reading of the texts in order to reduce all of Brod’s work to a twofold question: Just how sexist are Brod’s works and just how sexist is Max Brod himself? A more interesting approach would have acknowledged Brod’s atempts to depict gender diferences as the gateway for some kind of human longing for transcendence. Traci S. O’Brien Auburn University Primus-Heinz Kucher, ed., Verdrängte Moderne—vergessene Avantgarde: Diskurskonstellationen zwischen Literatur, heater, Kunst und Musik in Ősterreich 1918–1938. Götingen: V & R unipress, 2016. 296 pp. Primus-Heinz Kucher’s collection of articles explores the Austrian interwar avant-garde, including its origins and legacy in the Second Republic. he scholarly debates on the German avant-garde in Berlin have traditionally overshadowed the inluence of in-de-siècle Vienna modernism and the role of the avant-garde in the cultural production of the First Republic. In his introduction Kucher takes note of this situation, which persisted until recently, as is evident from Wendelin Schmidt-Dengler’s assessments of the literary spectrum of that time. he contributors to the volume Verdrängte Moderne— vergessene Avantgarde represent a variety of disciplines, including literary and cultural studies, literary history, theater and art history, and women’s literature. Contemporary international methodologies inform the articles, whose authors are ailiated with Austrian and German, French, Polish, and Italian institutes. he majority of articles are historically and socially contextualized, addressing economic issues and the political power balance. his is the case in Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 140 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Zoltan Peter’s exploration of a moderate avant-garde as a third path between the extremes of anti-modernism and formalist experimentalism. Such a third path was envisioned by Vienna intellectuals such as architect Josef Frank, who, as Zoltan reveals, ascribed to the Austrian mentality a sense of realism that resisted the experimentalism practiced in the Weimar Republic. Barbara Lesák examines the rather short-lived Austrian avant-gardist stage projects with a focus on Visionaries and Utopists. Included in her discussion are Jakob Moreno Levy’s project of the heater ohne Zuschauer as well as Adolf Loos and Lajos Kassák. Anke Bosse explores technological innovations in stage theory and architecture since 1900 and the increasingly “unliterary” character of theater. She problematizes Karel Čapek’s stage humanoids-robots and Kiesler’s electro-mechanical stage, raising the question if kinetic art is still theater, or if the abstract and de-personalized presentations under discussion constitute diferent genres altogether. Jürgen Doll discusses Vienna’s Social Democratic theater as a mass spectacle typiied by choral declamatory works representing power relations and the class struggle that also serves as a counter initiative the more intimate political cabaret that preempted Jura Soyfer’s proletarian art. Arturo Larcati discusses the reception of Italian Futurism in interwar Vienna and its key event, the inclusion of Futurists in the Vienna theater exhibit of 1924 that drew the engagement of intellectuals such as Friedrich Kiesler, whose impact on ilm Larcati notes as well. On the 1930s, political dimensions increasingly enter the discussion, and Larcati addresses possible concessions to Fascism by representatives of the Futurist movement. he second part of the anthology deals with the interplay of progressive and moderate initiatives. he opening article by Evelyne Polt-Heinzl examines Oskar Strnad as a pioneer of modernism, his signiicance for generations of Viennese architects and artists, his inluence on the architecture of “Red Vienna,” his stage innovations and connections to modernists like Schnitzler, Krenek, and Reinhardt, and, inally, the diiculties he faced during the rise of fascism. Rebecca Unterberger discusses Ernst Krenek’s position between progress and reaction in light of Adorno’s theories on the avant-garde and Brecht’s theatrical practice. Julia Bertschik’s article contributes to the discussion by showing the diiculty of positioning speciic journals vis-à-vis intellectual trends since market conditions, distribution, and the desideratum of mass appeal are not to be underestimated. Bertschik highlights Querschnit, a venue used by authors such as Franz Blei, Ernst Schaukal, Alexander LernetHolenia, and Sigmund Freud, and reviews publications of Karl Kraus, Roda Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 141 Roda, Emil Kuh, even Billy Wilder. Bertschik’s survey of Querschnit reveals skillful marketing strategies and makes explicit the coexistence of disparate trends. Primus-Heinz Kucher investigates the debates in the journal Musikbläter im Anbruch with atention to conceptual links involving music theory, architecture, and sculpture. He emphasizes the ambivalence of the avantgarde, which is obvious from the debates and the cultural production. He concludes that such ambivalence is characteristic of international musical modernism and avant-gardism. Suggesting that atonalism could be a fad in some cases and a genuine innovation in others, he points to Schönberg to argue that traditionalism was oten an integral part of avant-gardist forms. Part 3 examines movements that run parallel to the avant-garde without displaying its formalist experimentation. Walter Fähnders reviews vagabond literati such as Hugo Sonnenschein, whom Erich Mühsam assigned an avantgarde position. he anti-literature and anti-establishment mode of living taken up by the vagabond poets can be understood as a new cultural initiative. In addition, Fähnders detects interests and ideas that the vagabond intellectuals shared with the political let. Vivien Boxberger’s interpretation of Mela Hartwig’s Das Verbrechen is the only article in the volume that thematizes the female avant-garde and its gender-speciic conigurations. In light of the particular marginalization of women, these avant-garde expressions are oten overlooked or not recognized. Hartwig’s deconstruction of the psychoanalytical model and her construct of the “new daughter” have ensured her place in the Austrian avant-garde. It is regretable that no other female authors such as Else Feldmann or Paula Ludwig were included in the discussions. Jürgen Egyptien discusses journalist and writer Ernst Fischer’s views on drama and stage practice and Fischer’s letist politics in conjunction with his dramatic projects centering on political igures like Lenin or Lasalle. Egyptien estabishes a close correlation between Fischer’s approach and his dramas, in which he tried to shape aesthetic forms appropriate to the era. he concluding article by Aneta Jachimowicz on journalist and painter Rudolf Brunngraber, a close associate of political economist and philosopher Oto Neurath, presents a detailed analysis of Brunngraber’s novel Karl und das 20. Jahrhundert. Jachimowicz acknowledges the innovations the novel makes but remains unconvinced of the efectiveness of the blend of statistics, sociology, and iction. She criticizes the language of science in the novel, which, she concludes, merely illustrates the problems of the time without capturing the human dimension. he anthology is compellingly structured, moving from avant-garde ae- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 142 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 stheticism and artistic experimentation to a broader understanding of the avant-garde. hese excellent articles expand the range of the ongoing scholarly discussions and make an important contribution to the ield of interdisciplinary Austrian Studies. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz University of Illinois at Chicago Hannah Markus, Ilse Aichingers Lyrik: Das gedruckte Werk und die Handschriten. Edited by Beate Kellner and Claudia Stockinger. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015. 336 pp. Until the publication of Hannah Markus’s study, Ilse Aichinger’s poetic work had not been critically assessed and explored in its entirety. Compared to the author’s postwar novel Die gröβere Hofnung and her prose and dramatic texts, the extraordinary quality of her poems had been acknowledged, but not a single study had focused on this aspect of her oeuvre. In light of the political debates of the 1960s and 1970s and the priority given to prose and political theater at that time, lyric poetry as a genre had lost its appeal for readers, students, and critics as well as for authors. Aichinger had writen and published a signiicant body of poetry during the postwar era, but like other poets of her generation, including Ingeborg Bachmann, she gave priority to diferent genres. According to Hannah Markus the majority of Aichinger’s poems, which had been published in diferent venues individually or in smaller groupings in the 1950s to 1970s, are collected in the volume Verschenkter Rat (1978), and in the later’s expanded version (1991), which appeared under the umbrella of the edition of Aichinger’s collected works. Markus writes that the Aichinger iles in the Deutsches Literaturarchiv in Marbach contain a large number of lyric texts and drats that reveal that the author never stopped writing poetry. Markus mentions eight folders of poems and poetic sketches, many of which still await cataloguing (166). hese materials include diferent versions of poems, thus providing insight into Aichinger’s creative processes and development. Markus is the irst scholar to provide a scholarly book-length study dedicated exclusively to Aichinger’s poetry. She takes into consideration essential elements of text production, assessment, and interpretation. In her extensive Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 143 appendix Markus provides meticulous information and descriptions of the poems, commenting on existing variations and the publication history. Also included is a list of Aichinger’s poems and the corresponding dates. his overview is an invaluable tool for future scholarship on Aichinger’s poetry. he immediate inspiration for Ilse Aichingers Lyrik: Das gedruckte Werk und die Handschriten was the transfer of the author’s literary estate to the Literaturarchiv Marbach. he practice of living authors releasing their legacy to an archive as a “Vorlass” is no longer uncommon, as the “Vorlass” of Habermas and others indicates. his step on the author’s part encouraged Markus to undertake a broad, text-based discussion of Aichinger’s poetry and an examination of published and unpublished material. She establishes connections between the unpublished works and the poems in Verschenkter Rat, which she treats as a collection of individual works rather than a poetic cycle or thematically ordered anthology. Either view has its justiications: On the one hand, the poems in Verschenkter Rat do not follow a chronological order, which reveals that the author put them into a particular sequence, but on the other hand, they originated in diferent time periods, which suggests that they can stand on their own. Markus contextualizes her textual analyses within the larger literary and critical environment and provides a survey of scholarship on Aichinger’s poetry since the 1960s. Her commentary on the critical studies indicates developments in Aichinger’s writing and in the critical discourse. Following the introductory report on Aichinger research, Markus examines the published poetry in chronological order and identiies elements and idiosyncrasies that remain constant in Aichinger’s poetic practice. hese pertain, among others, to rhetorical igures, sound structures, syntactic elements, and colors. hereater Markus discusses changes in style, rhetoric, and topics that occurred over time. She pays special atention to shits pertaining to themes of religion, death, and language. Markus also discusses some of the earlier prose poetry and other texts not included in Verschenkter Rat. In conjunction with the prose poetry she raises the issue of Aichinger’s collaboration with her husband, the poet Günter Eich. In her exploration of the unpublished works in Marbach, Markus thematizes the origins and formation of the poetic texts as well as Aichinger’s creative process in which formal elements, sound, and timbre played a signiicant role. A segment on Aichinger’s literary relationship with Paul Celan initiates a discussion of ainities and diferences between these two eminent Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 144 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 post-Shoah poets. In a inal assessment, Markus compares Aichinger’s published works with the unpublished texts. he formal and thematic innovations in the later work prompts Markus to introduce and problematize the concept of Spätwerk to characterize Aichinger’s later poetry and to contextualize these works with the author’s most recent prose texts. he study at hand is a multi-pronged compendium, invaluable for the study of Aichinger’s poetry, which Hannah Markus reassesses and assigns its proper place as one of the major poetic oeuvres of the twentieth century. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz University of Illinois at Chicago Barbara Siller, Identitäten—Imaginationen—Erzählungen: Literaturraum Südtirol seit 1965. Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Kulturwissenschat— Germanistische Reihe 82. Innsbruck: Innsbruck UP, 2015. 268 S. Wenige GermanistInnen haben sich je mit der Literatur aus Südtirol beschäftigt, selbst wenn sie die Gebirgsgegend kennen und auch mit ihrer historischen und politischen Entwicklung vertraut sein mögen. Es lässt sich wohl leichter über Urlaubserfahrungen und Wanderabenteuer in der Bilderbuchlandschat von Südtirol ein Gespräch führen als über die literarischen Beiträge zum mitteleuropäischen Kulturschafen, die seit 1918 zwischen dem Vinschgau und dem Pustertal, zwischen dem Brenner und Neumarkt entstanden sind. Daher ist es sehr zu begrüßen, dass der Innsbrucker Universitätsverlag eine Monograie herausgebracht hat, die interessierten LeserInnen Gelegenheit bietet, sich einen Einblick in die literarische Landschat von Südtirol zu verschafen. Die Autorin Barbara Siller hat sich eine umfangreiche Aufgabe gestellt, indem sie eine Vielfalt von Aspekten des literarischen Geschehens seit 1965 aufzuzeigen sucht und den “Literaturraum Südtirol” in den größeren Zusammenhang von postmodernen Kultur-Strömungen einbeten will. Dabei ist besonders positiv, dass Siller deutsch- und italienischsprachige beziehungsweise zweisprachige Texte in ihren Korpus aufnimmt und damit bewusst eine ethnische Einschränkung vermeidet. Die anerkennenswerte Ambition, viel zu wenig Bekanntes durch einen Überblick (mit vielen Textanalysen) vorzustellen und dafür Interesse zu wecken, hat jedoch begrenzten Erfolg: die Darstellung leidet an Redundanz, und die Bemühung, auf viele verschiedene Werke hinzuweisen, resultiert in unvermeidlich ober- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 145 lächlicher Anreihung von Werkbetrachtungen. Außerdem gelingt es Siller nicht, ihr theoretisches Kapitel (2) kohärent in die anschließenden Diskussionen von hemen, Motiven, Narrationsmustern, usw. einzubinden—es entsteht der Eindruck, dass die Darlegung von philosophischen und kulturanthropologischen Begrilichkeiten zur Frage von Identität zwar als ein wissenschatliches Muss angesehen aber nicht als erkenntnisleitend eingesetzt wird. Aufällig ist, dass die zwei Unterkapitel (4.1.3 und 4.2.), die in ihrer Substanz bereits als separate Aufsätze publiziert wurden, wesentlich stimmiger mit theoretischem Fundament hervortreten als die anderen Präsentationen in den Kapiteln 3 und 4. Wie man sich vorstellen kann, haben sich gerade in einem politisch umstritenen Territorium wie Südtirol kollektive Identitäten über Jahrzehnte entlang Ethnien und Sprachen herausgebildet. Erst nach der konsequenten Durchführung des Autonomie-Statuts in den 70er Jahren—basierend auf dem Pariser Vertrag von Karl Gruber und Alcide Degasperi (1946) und viel später erfolgreich als “Paket” ausgearbeitet durch den Südtiroler Landeshauptmann Silvio Magnago—lockerten sich langsam die Fronten. Fixierte Identitätszuschreibungen im “Entweder/Oder” begannen sich erst dann allmählich aufzulösen und wurden zunehmend von luiden Identitätskonstruktionen im “Sowohl/Als Auch” ersetzt. Dies trit nicht nur auf die reelle Lebenssituation der Bevölkerung im Alto Adige zu, sondern auch auf die literarische Auseinandersetzung mit dieser Wirklichkeit. Wenn das Spektrum von SchritstellerInnen in Sillers Band beispielhat sich von Franz Tumler (*1912) und Maria Giuliana Costa (*1920) über Gianni Bianco (*1932) und Joseph Zoderer (*1935) bis zu Helene Flöss (*1954) und Sepp Mall (*1955) und zu Selma Mahlknecht (*1979) zieht, dann lässt sich im Schreiben dieser Generationen der Wandel von Identitätsprojektionen nachvollziehen. Siller kann ihre Leserschat davon überzeugen, dass “ein dynamisches, performatives und konstruktivistisches Identitätsverständnis zunehmend den—bis dahin gängigen—statischen, essentialistischen Identitätsbegrif in den literarischen Werken abgelöst hat” (15). Bevor die Autorin ihr zentrales hema präsentiert, vermitelt sie einen Abriss der Geschichte und Politik Südtirols seit 1918 und betont, dass für das Verständnis des speziischen Diskurses um und über Südtirol—ganz im Sinne der Foucaultschen Genealogie—all das, was nicht ausgesprochen wurde/ wird, wesentlich signiikanter ist als das Artikulierte. Es geht also darum, die Diskontinuitäten und Konliktstellen im Reden über Südtirol auszumachen; Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 146 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 auf das Vergessene und Unterdrückte in den tradierten Erinnerungen einzugehen und die (historischen) Mythen, auf die so ot rekurriert wird, aufzubrechen. Die besondere Signiikanz der speziisch ethnischen Perspektiven (von den Tirolern, den Italienern, den Ladinern) und die starke Bindung an die jeweilige Sprachgemeinschat haben das politische, gesellschatliche und Familienleben im Südtiroler Raum maßgeblich geprägt—kein Wunder also, dass sich die Literatur unschwer diesen Bedingungen entziehen kann und daher die Frage zur Identitätsbildung immer wieder aufgreit. “Häuig geht es dabei um Diskurse der Angst vor dem Anderen, um Diskurse der Gefahr und der daraus resultierenden Vorsicht sowie um Diskurse der Abgrenzung und Verteidigung für die Sicherung der Existenz der eigenen Gruppe” (44). Die Darlegung von hemen und Motiven, die sich über die Jahrzehnte in der Literatur aus dem Raum Südtirol inden lassen und um Identität bzw. Alterität kreisen, basiert auf drei Ansatzpunkten, die Siller im Verweis auf zum Teil theoretische Konzepte zur Identitätskonstruktion auswählt: ihre Diskussion vom Wandel des relationalen Identitätsaspektes bezieht sich auf Ricoeurs, Levinas und Bhabha; ihr Denkansatz zum diskursiven Aspekt von Identität schöpt aus der Philosophie Foucaults; und ihre Diskussion der instrumentalisierten Identitätspolitik in Südtirol stellt die subversiven literarischen Identitätsmodelle den streng vorgegebenen, einschränkenden der öffentlichen Diskurse gegenüber. Das kulturell Andere als “Bereicherung und Inspiration” zu entdecken und sich dabei selbst weiter zu entwickeln und ein Anderer zu werden, das ist—wie sich aus den vorgestellten literarischen Beispielen entnehmen lässt—“im identitätspolitisch belastete[n] Raum Südtirol” (73) ein schwieriges Unterfangen. Das Kaleidoskop von Identitätskonstruktionen, das Siller durch eine Vielzahl an Texten lebendig vor Augen führt, lässt uns erkennen, dass die thematisch so häuige Opposition zwischen engstirnigem/anti-intellektuellem Dorf und Freiraum Großstadt, zwischen mächtiger Berglandschat und offenem Land am Meer, zwischen Patriarchat und weiblicher Selbständigkeit, und zwischen Wortkargheit oder Schweigen und Sprachindung bzw. Mehrsprachigkeit charakteristisch ist—dass diese Faktoren die individuelle Identitätsbildung gravierend beeinlussen. Je stärker die ProtagonistInnen in ihrem ethnischen Kollektiv und in ihrem Bezug zur Vergangenheit gefangen sind, umso schwieriger ist das Gelingen einer persönlichen Identität. Der Südtiroler Raum konnte sich der gesellschatlichen Globalisierung der letzten Jahre nicht entziehen, und daher sind auch im “Land im Gebirge” und vor allem in Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 147 seiner Literatur hybride, transitorische und prozesshate Identitäten entstanden, jenseits der starren Kategorien und Grenzen. Die Postmoderne ist im Alto Adige angekommen. Maria-Regina Kecht Rice University Esther K. Bauer, Bodily Desire, Desired Bodies: Gender and Desire in Early Twentieth-Century German and Austrian Novels and Paintings. Evanston, IL: Northwestern UP, 2014. 161 pp. his monograph airms the richness that interdisciplinarity brings to Austrian and German studies. Esther Bauer skillfully weaves connections among four novels: Baum’s Menschen im Hotel (Grand Hotel) (1929) and stud. chem. Helen Willfüer (Helene) (1928), Kaka’s Der Verschollene (Amerika: he Missing Person) (writen 1911–1914, published 1927), Mann’s Der Zauberberg (he Magic Mountain) (1924), and iteen paintings (including four by Christian Schad, three by Oto Dix, and two by Egon Schiele). She compellingly demonstrates how each subverts the traditional, bourgeois system of order—speciically the gender binary. In accessible language, Bauer synthesizes her meticulous and probing dissections of the literary and visual artworks with historical and contemporary discussions of social context, critical theory, and philosophy (for instance, Butler, Barthes, de Beauvoir, Lacan); plus she includes det biblical and art-historical references to ground her probing interpretations. he complicated analyses of images of women and men within each of Bauer’s ive chapters maintain a readability that is surprising. he succinct introduction both tempts and assures the reader that much original evidence is to come. In the irst chapter Bauer juxtaposes characters in Vicki Baum’s novel Grand Hotel with two paintings by Schad and one by Dix, suggesting that the visual art illuminates the forward-looking nature of Baum’s igures but also shows the constraints of her feminism. In each chapter, Bauer sets her art and literary interpretations in art-historical, philosophical, biographical, and contemporary social contexts with a remarkable breadth of references. With additional information about “New Objectivity,” the “New Woman” of the 1920s, and the marketing of the author by her publisher Ullstein, the irst chapter is the longest. Bauer successfully argues in the second chapter for the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 148 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 importance of the paintings of women that happen within the text of Baum’s novel Helene as she examines the rhetorical use of ekphrasis—“most typically a description of an historical painting or other artifact in literature” (47). Bauer points out how this device creates an exploratory space in the novel; for instance, through the depiction of a male African American painter’s portrait of the nude femme fatale igure, Yvonne Pastouri, Baum can include an extreme corporeality in her text, but she remains distanced from the impropriety through the retelling. Bauer thoroughly dissects this scene with critical deconstructions of blackness and exoticism such as one inds in Edouard Manet’s painting “Olympia” (1863) and Franz von Stuck’s 1906 painting “Salome.” Part of the titles of the third and fourth chapters, “he Body Between Sex and Violence” and “Looking to Dominate,” respectively convey an immense fact and a distortion, as far as the main characters are concerned. Using Kafka’s Amerika as the literary text in these chapters, Bauer skillfully persuades the reader of the body as the “site of struggle for dominance” (72). Further, she aligns Kaka’s and Dix’s techniques to show “sexualized corporeality” in both Kaka’s aging opera singer Brunelda and Dix’s obese prostitute in the cramped portrait, “hree Women,” techniques including exaggeration, allusions to stereotypes of femininity and biblical igures, and references to characters’ animality (73). Brunelda’s considerable size in Amerika determines much of the interactions around her, and Bauer points out how the mater-offact narration by the young hero, Karl Rossmann—likened here to Dix’s realistic style—ill prepare readers and viewers for the sexual deviance in each. In the fourth chapter, Bauer compares Kaka’s Amerika to one of Egon Schiele’s self-portraits, “Seated Male Nude (Self-Portrait)” (1910); Bauer’s chapter title speaks to dominance, but clearly, each main igure is not in that role of power. Innovative in this chapter are Bauer’s contentions that Schiele’s works engaged in the gender discourse of the time and thus are not mere expressions of an eccentric artist, and that Kaka and Schiele should be seen as well aware of the “changes in images of masculinity and femininity and sexual and body politics” (84). Among the compelling examinations is Bauer’s argument for the label “cross-embodiment” (cf. cross-dressing) in Schiele’s igure that gives a “gender transgressive appearance” (87). In the last chapter Bauer compares investigations into male and female social roles through the interaction of knowledge, sexuality, and vision in homas Mann’s he Magic Mountain and in two of Christian Schad’s famous Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 149 paintings from 1927. Here is just one of the numerous highlights: the mystery of the two titles of Christian Schad’s 1927 “Self-Portrait”/“Self-Portrait with Model”; the later title—currently in use by the painting’s owner—dismisses the otherwise convincingly argued gender luidity of the former. Focused mainly on the corporeality of igures, Bauer skillfully juxtaposes how authors and painters manipulate both the image of the body and the gaze upon the body (the gaze of the spectators and of igures within the text) and illustrates the “disorientation caused by luid gender roles and resulting instability of hierarchical relationships” (102). Suitable for undergraduate and graduate courses and altogether sophisticated and thorough, this book is recommended for anyone who enjoys an intellectually driven, detail-rich excursion into early/ twentieth-century works that destabilize the gender binary. It is a welcome addition and signiicant contribution to Austrian and German studies. Beret L. Norman Boise State University Mark Cornwall and John Paul Newman, Sacriice and Rebirth: he Legacy of the Last Habsburg War. Austrian and Habsburg Studies 18. New York: Berghahn, 2016. 295 pp. How a war ends is at least as important as how it begins. here is no lack of excellent recent scholarship on the start and course of World War I, which should be matched by work on the atermath. Mark Cornwall and John Paul Newman’s Sacriice and Rebirth: he Legacy of the Last Habsburg War is an insightful look at the many varied veterans’ groups, commemorative events and societies, political ramiications, and memorials in the former Habsburg lands. he book ofers valuable perspectives on the individuals and groups most afected by the war, that is, veterans and their families who remained active in commemorative groups. Memorial activity naturally varied widely between successor states and became acutely tied up in post-Habsburg political narratives, making the memory of Austria-Hungary’s unusually fragmented among the newly expanded, contracted, formed, and divided countries of east central Europe. While there have been books and articles on individual communities or nations, Sacriice and Rebirth ofers useful comparisons Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 150 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 by exploring the entire post-Habsburg world. Cornwall and Newman and their contributors ind enough commonalities to argue that a shadow of the Habsburg mental space lingered on well ater the war. Cornwall and Newman divide the postwar legacy of Austria-Hungary geographically between places where the war was seen as a defeat (Austria, Hungary, the Sudetenland, and Transylvania), a victory (Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia and Romania), and a mixed state—areas annexed by new or expanded victor states (Croatia, Slovenia, Polish Galicia, and Tyrol). In all regions, individual wartime experience had to be adapted and molded into broader narratives, an exceptionally diicult task for countries like Yugoslavia or Poland, made up of former and current enemies. Catherine Edgecombe and Maureen Healy examine perhaps the most fundamental questions of interwar Austria and the former Habsburg Empire more generally. Virtually everyone in the Austrian First Republic had sacriiced in some way during the war, but for what? While interwar commemorative ceremonies and organizations ofered a variety of lenses to ind meaning in wartime sufering, including “fatherland,” “God and religion,” or just “comradeship,” no interpretation was universally or even widely accepted. Naturally, this lack of a uniied narrative was accompanied by a sharp rise in paramilitary and revanchist groups in Austria and Hungary, as discussed by Robert Gerwarth. In contrast to defeated Austria and Hungary, the “victor states” were usually able to create a somewhat coherent narrative of struggle and reward. his was only possible by ignoring large minority populations and producing approved memorabilia. For example, the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes (Yugoslavia as of 1929) exhibited hundreds of Serbian wartime photographs from the Balkan Wars and World War I. Melissa Bokovoy’s chapter examining the exhibits and accompanying photo albums shows how the Serbian ideal of militarized manhood was irst created and then spread, as were narratives of wartime sufering and solidarity. his naturally prioritized the Serbian experience of war and removed Croat and Slovene memories from the national pantheon. Czechoslovakia had a similarly conlicted experience of war. Nancy M. Wingield’s chapter on interwar commemoration of the Batle of Zborov illustrates the new state’s diicult position. Zborov was a minor engagement Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 151 during the Kerensky Ofensive; as the irst major action by Czechoslovak Legions, it became a key part in the new national pantheon. Of course, the accepted version overlooked the loyal Czech and Slovak forces ighting for the Habsburgs and instead focused on approved Czech soldiers and leaders to the exclusion of much of the rest of the multinational state. Katya Kocurek’s chapter complements Wingield’s nicely by looking at the political activity of Legionary veterans’ associations, particularly the more right-wing Independent Union of Czechoslovak Legionaries. Other countries completely overwrote the memory of World War I. For example, millions of Poles served in World War I in the armies of AustriaHungary, Germany, and Russia. However, these victims and veterans are still virtually ignored in favor of the Polish Legions and the 1918–1921 wars against Poland’s neighbors and the Soviet Union. Christoph Mick’s chapter examines the marginalization of World War I and non-Polish actors in the postwar batles. National narratives among Poles and Ukrainians made Habsburg service embarrassing and less than admirable. his sublimation of World War I service is perhaps best seen in southern Tyrol. As Laurence Cole shows, Tyrolean commemoration focused on sacriice and a future reuniication with Austria. Italy, though, aggressively built memorials and ossuaries in and around this newly acquired territory in order to mark it as deinitively Italian. Here the memory of Habsburg service was actively suppressed and replaced with Italian triumphalism. Sacriice and Rebirth is a crucial addition to the growing ield of postHabsburg studies and may be read proitably in conjunction with Adam Kożucowski’s recent study of postwar scholarship and rhetoric, he Aterlife of Austria-Hungary. Across the former Habsburg Empire people struggled to ind value and purpose in wartime service and the existence of the AustroHungarian state. While Kożucowski’s scholars and politicians shaped the broad memory of the Habsburg Empire, the veterans, commemorative committees, and memorial organizations in Sacriice and Rebirth deined the fresher and deeper wounds of war. his book is highly recommended. John E. Fahey Purdue University Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 152 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Martin Pollack, Topograie der Erinnerung. Salzburg: Residenz Verlag, 2016. 172 pp. his book is a fascinating collection of seventeen articles that Martin Pollack, former correspondent for the German news magazine Der Spiegel, wrote for journals or delivered as keynote speeches between 2008 and 2014 that are loosely connected to the topic of memory, particularly from the perspective of descendants of Nazis and even the Nazi perpetrators themselves. Two of the articles are published here for the irst time: “Die Lehrer unserer Väter” and “Drei Kinder.” he articles are grouped under three larger topics: “Erinnerung und Gedanken,” “Bilder und Bildpolitiken,” and “Europäische Regionen.” Pollack published Der Tote im Bunker: Bericht über meinen Vater (Zsolnay, 2004), which chronicles what he knew about his father Gerhart Bast, who was an SS-Sturmbannführer and Gestapo member as well as a leader for Einsatzgruppen in Eastern Europe responsible for several cases of genocidal mass murder. Martin Pollack was adopted by his stepfather Hans Pollack, a painter who was also a fervent believer in National Socialism, and it is this autobiographical context of Pollack being raised by Nazis who did not give up their beliefs ater 1945 and who rejected any critical examination of the recent past that led Pollack to study the Polish language and history and learn more about the place, about which he knew that the Nazis had committed unspeakable crimes there. Pollack’s very conscious break with his family’s ideological leanings was an important step for him to distance himself from his country’s terrible past, and this open reckoning is extremely instructive for understanding how this history should never be repeated. While Pollack’s father’s crimes may be extraordinary for the average Austrian, being raised by family members who were unabashed Nazis ater 1945 is not unusual for many Austrians, and this has shaped the memory that people have of their country’s history as well as how they view neighboring countries, especially those to the east. National Socialism did not evolve out of a vacuum in Austria and Germany, and Pollack illustrates this in his essay “Die Lehrer unserer Väter,” which deals with his father and uncles having been sent from their hometown of Amsteten all the way to Wels at the turn of the twentieth century to atend boarding school, even though there would have been closer schools. Wels ofered a particularly German nationalist education; this was also a school that Hitler atended for a few years. Pollack emphasizes the roles of educators and families that sought out such educational paths in the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 153 promulgation of racism and hatred against others, particularly anti-Semitism and hatred against Slavs. his is further illustrated in the second original essay in this volume, “Drei Kinder,” which examines two pictures the author found of three children seated out in a yard dressed in middle-class, if not upper middle-class, white summer clothes. Pollack does not know who the children are or where the picture was taken, as he simply found it in his great-uncle’s estate. In one of the pictures the boy is raising his right arm for the Hitler salute, and in the other picture the boy is joined in the salute by two girls. he surprising fact about the picture is that it is dated as 1932, thus before Hitler rose to power, and it is clear that the three children are trying to impress the adults with this symbolic ideological display. He can only wonder what became of these children, but it is clear that they were fed a hateful ideology from very early on. Pollack wonders how many of such photographs lie in picture boxes with families in Austria, and how few people today would actually understand the context of these photographs. his leads the author to ponder some interesting thoughts about the diiculty of interpreting pictures, especially when there is not enough information to explain the circumstances under which the pictures came about. In addition to covering questions by the irst postwar generation of Austrians raised by unapologetic Nazis, in two essays, “Bilder aus Galizien” and “Galizien—Mythos mit vielen Gesichtern,” Pollack also covers the history of the former Austrian crownland of Galizien, which was later also one of the main sites of mass murder in the Holocaust. his dovetails well with his expertise in Polish culture and literature. here is further an essay on Prague in 1989 during the fall of Communism, which does not it too well into the volume, but then this is contrasted with his experiences in Warsaw in the mid1960s, which it well into the topic of the irst generation ater the war that was by default very naïve about the recent past. Finally, there is “Mutmaßungen über ein Verbrechen,” which deals with the mass murder of Hungarian Jews in Rechnitz at the end of the war and the unwillingness on the part of the locals of Rechnitz to this day to identify the site of the mass grave. “Keine Gedenktafel für Roma,” which deals with another small town in Burgenland being unwilling to commemorate the genocide commited on the Roma during the Nazi period gives a beter understanding of how some contemporary Austrians understand their country, especially if they grew up in an uncritical context and with parents who did not clearly distance themselves from National Socialism. Pollack is clearly trying to educate Austrians to be more criti- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 154 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 cal of their past and to be more open-minded to people with diferent backgrounds. hese essays provide interesting food for thought for any scholar working on these topics and could also easily be used in relevant classes with undergraduate and graduate students. Joseph W. Moser West Chester University Friedrich Stadler, ed., 650 Jahre Universität Wien—Aubruch ins neue Jahrhundert. 4 vols. Vienna: V&R unipress, 2015. 2131 pp. his sprawling, encyclopedic study of the University of Vienna during the “long twentieth century”—between 1848 and the present—ofers an impressive account of the university and its development. Drawing on a trove of recent research, the editors have presented a multifaceted picture of the institution, both within its walls and in its interactions with the broader world. With over a hundred contributors and two thousand pages, the work will serve as the primary reference text on the subject for some time. Divided into four major parts, 650 Jahre examines the university as a site of research and instruction and as a locus of academic politics inlected by social, cultural, and political trends. he irst volume, “Universität, Forschung und Lehre,” traces the evolution of the university as an institution of higher education, using Kant’s Streit der Fakultäten and Bourdieu’s Homo Academicus to explore themes of autonomy and academic freedom. A meditation as much on contemporary university politics as on history, the volume ofers insights for debates about the role of the university in today’s knowledge society. he second volume, “Universität—Politik—Gesellschat,” situates the university in a dynamic relationship with its social, political, and economic contexts. he irst half of the volume places the university within the turbulent political events of the twentieth century, especially between 1914 and 1945. A collection of twenty-seven biographical portraits ofers case studies of university igures in their myriad academic and political involvements. he second half connects the university with social and economic developments through quantitative researches into questions of inclusion and social mobility. he third volume, “Reichweiten und Außensichten,” ofers images of the university from national, transnational, and international perspectives. Moving beyond traditional, internalist descriptions of the university, it provides Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 155 an innovative interpretation by deploying cultural and social lenses that raise questions about the university’s supposed political neutrality and its promotion of social mobility. he inal volume, “Relexive Innensichten,” consists of a collection of disciplinary histories, told by academics active within those departments, faculties, and institutes. Given the length of this work, a series of more general observations and selective analyses must suice. he biographical sketches of Volume 2 and the disciplinary studies of Volume 4 will receive litle atention. Although the former evince the invaluable archival research done in recent years, they contribute litle to the work’s argument. Likewise the disciplinary histories will primarily interest practitioners and aicionados of those ields. While the multivolume set contains a diverse array of contributions, its structure, ordering, and coherence leave something to be desired. he irst volume presents signiicant new information about the university’s intellectual and organizational development. hematically, however, the volume divides into two complementary, yet not fully integrated parts—one that focuses on theoretical and philosophical questions about the meaning of the university, one that delves into the historical particularities of the University of Vienna itself. he lead essay by Nemeth and Stadler, which examines the concepts of education and instruction, autonomy and state intervention, and pure and applied research stands as a powerful example of the irst direction. he subsequent essay of Dahms and Stadler, which tracks the internal transformations of the philosophical faculty, represents the second tendency. While the theoretical essays orient the discussion, the historical essays do not always take up those themes. Feichtinger’s essay engages in a compelling historical treatment of the “verletzte Autonomie” of science at the university before 1938, yet Svatek’s chapter on Raumforschung maintains an internalist focus that is probably best suited to another volume. he second volume contains some of 650 Jahre’s richest material, yet its imposing size and unusual structure make it less eicacious. Given the short length of the third volume and its eclecticism, reorganization may have helped. Ash’s virtuoso exploration of the university at moments of political upheaval is really a book unto itself, dwaring all other contributions in the second volume. Ater the oddly placed biographical section, the essays on Hochschulpolitik return to Ash’s themes, bridging to the second Teilband and its themes of inclusion and exclusion, emancipation and social mobility. Quantitatively rich and thoroughly researched, that sub-volume, introduced Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 156 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 ably by Cohen’s essay on the social composition of the student body in late imperial Austria, nevertheless may have worked beter in tandem with the third volume. he essays in that book lack thematic unity. Taschwer’s fascinating investigation of anti-Semitism at the University and Fleck’s look at Austrian fellows of the Rockefeller Foundation enrich the social considerations of the second volume but do not connect well to Arens’s exploration of representations of the university in Austrian literature. Essays on Balkanforschung and the Campus Vienna Biocenter, while adding international considerations to the overall picture, add to the scatershot feel. For anyone interested in the University of Vienna, 650 Jahre is an indispensable resource. Despite its shortcomings, they do not invalidate its strengths. he work presents a conceptually sophisticated and historically diverse portrait of Austria’s lagship institution of higher education. he impressive list of contributors atests to the current state of scientiic research in Austria itself, and the essays provide a needed introduction to many subjects. While beter read selectively than cover to cover, the project succeeds as a reference work and as a critical relection on the meaning of the university— both historically and in the contemporary world. Janek Wasserman University of Alabama Rainer Maria Rilke, New Poems. Translation by Len Krisak. Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2015. 392 pp. Len Krisak’s new translation of Rilke’s New Poems consists of the translator’s preface, George Schoolield’s introduction, and, of course, the poems themselves. In his preface, Krisak tells readers he came to Rilke’s New Poems when he was asked to translate “he Archaic Torso of Apollo” for a class assignment. With no previous knowledge of the German language, he armed himself with a German-English dictionary and the work of earlier translators, including J. B. Leishman and Edward Snow, and, as he was instructed, “igured it out.” Over the course of nearly two decades, Krisak taught himself the German language by translating Rilke’s Neue Gedichte. Although not an ordinary strategy for learning a major European language, Krisak’s technique (eventually) resulted in the current volume. With the aim of “poetry above all” in this Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 157 new publication, Krisak brought “Rilke’s New Poems over into English” (xi). In choosing the word “over,” Krisak suggests a crossing over of some border or divide. Paul Riceour might invoke the words of Friedrich Schleiermacher to describe this process as “bringing the author to the reader.” It is now up to the reader to come to the author. Schoolield’s introduction helps the reader do just that—to come to Rilke. By beginning with a simple count of the translations of Rilke’s New Poems—Krisak’s is the ith—Schoolield reminds readers that these poems are not easy to translate. (By comparison, for example, more than twentyive separate translations of Rilke’s Duineser Elegien exist.) hus readers know from the outset that Krisak faced and dealt with the technical challenges of bringing Rilke’s New Poems poems “over” into English. Schoolield takes only eighteen lines to identify the importance of Krisak’s translation. In a word: vitality. As Schoolield puts it, “Krisak’s translation [ . . . ] comes closest to replicating Rilke’s poems’ vitality and their subtleties of diction and form” (xvii). Schoolield’s talent for providing knowledgeable background is everywhere evident in his introduction to these New Poems. He provides helpful insights into the events and people that informed Rilke before and during his writing of the New Poems. In particular, he calls atention to Rilke’s time in Paris, his travels and correspondence with Lou Salomé, his boyhood education, and Rilke’s ability to “squirrel” away poems until just the right moment (xxi). Schoolield’s narrative takes into account the two books Rilke always kept in his possession and the inluence of Cezanne, especially on the poems in the second half of Part Two. Schoolield also provides a helpful tour through the volume (xxv–xxx). Schoolield unearths a leter from Rilke to his publisher outlining plans for a third volume of Neue Gedichte. hese scatered fragments appeared in later works of Rilke. Now to the real gems of the volume, Rilke’s poems themselves. A comparison of Krisak’s translation of the inal two stanzas of Rilke’s “Archaic Torso of Apollo,” the opening poem of Part 2, which includes the well-known half-line “Du mußt dein Leben ändern,” reveals what Schoolield refers to as Krisak’s “advantage in the naturalness of his diction and the vitality of his verse” (xvii). Rilke: Sonst stünde dieser Stein entstellt und kurz unter der Schultern durchsichtigem Sturz und limmerte nicht so wie Raubtierfelle Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 158 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 und bräche nicht aus allen seinen Rändern aus wie ein Stern: denn da ist keine Stelle, die dich nicht sieht. Du mußt dein Leben ändern. J.B. Leishman: Or else this stone would not stand so intact beneath the shoulders’ through-seen cataract and would not glisten like a wild beast’s skin; and would not keep from all its contours giving light like a star: for there’s no place therein that does not see you. You must change your living. Snow: Otherwise this stone would stand deformed and curt under the shoulders’ invisible plunge and not glisten just like wild beasts’ fur; and not burst forth from all its contours like a star: for there is no place that does not see you. You must change your life. Krisak: his stone would stand like something maimed and loppedof under shoulders lucent as they dropped. It would not glimmer like a panther skin, or from what holds it in, burst like a star. For there’s no place from which you can’t be seen. Begin now: you must change the life you are. (173) Krisak argues that his translation stems from Rilke’s sonnet form, which requires the last line to rhyme with the line two above it. It is, perhaps, as Krisak suggests, “time for a new beginning” (xii). Whether the reader takes Krisak’s translation at face value or in comparison with other translators, the freshness of his translation is apparent. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 159 Krisak’s translation of “Spanish Dancer,” for example, highlights Rilke’s keen ability to interweave ideas as in a tapestry. Ater linking the ideas of the lare of a match and a dance in the irst seven lines of the poem, Rilke writes: Mit einem Blick entzündet sie ihr Haar und dreht auf einmal mit gewagter Kunst ihr ganzes Kleid in diese Feuersbrunst, aus welcher sich, wie Schlangen die erschrecken, die nackten Arme wach und klappernd strecken. Krisak translates: With just a glance, she touches of her hair. And all at once, with darting art, she turns her dress entirely to ire. It burns, and from it comes—each one a writhing snake— two naked, stretching arms, clapping awake (129). he Spanish dancer is not the only one with darting art. Krisak allows Rilke to guide the reader’s atention from hair to ire to snake to arms. his stanza illustrates how images evolve naturally in Rilke’s New Poems. he “vitality” of Krisak’s translation is everywhere present in these ive lines, along with more than a hint of a iery-spirited Rilke. In the end, then, Krisak’s translation of the New Poems ofers readers a fresh opportunity to consider not only Rilke’s poetry but also Rilke himself. Lou Salomé, for one, was looking for him in these poems. “I am still searching for you in them [New Poems],” Salomé wrote to Rilke on June 17, 1909, “as in a very dense forest that contains many hiding places. And I am enjoying both inding and seeking.” Echoing F. J. Sheed’s thoughts on Augustine and his Confessions, Rilke gives us his poems and he gives us himself in the process. It is up to readers to ind him. Krisak’s translation of the New Poems will help. Della J. Dumbaugh University of Richmond Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 160 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Wolfgang Göderle, Zensus und Ethnizität: Zur Herstellung von Wissen über soziale Wirklichkeiten im Habsburgerreich zwischen 1848 und 1910. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 331 pp. Wolfgang Göderle’s book on the census in the Habsburg Empire sets out to understand the practices and processes of the “Durchethnisierung” of Central Europe in the nineteenth century. As the title suggests, Göderle is interested how knowledge creation, especially by scholars and administrators working for the Habsburg state and in the ields of statistics, contributed to the process in which people in Central Europe saw themselves as members of ethnic groups. his book is diicult and dense but is writen in a way that does not violate the social contract between the author and reader. Concepts are articulated slowly and unfolded with historical evidence and any scholar, even one unfamiliar with research on the history of knowledge, can follow the arguments. As such, Göderle’s book makes a new and valuable contribution to the ield of nationalism in central Europe, a ield which has itself undergone a revolution in the past two decades with the work of Pieter Judson, Jeremy King, Tara Zahra, and others. Göderle’s contribution focuses on the connections between Wissenschat and administration, precisely in the moment when the Habsburg Empire and all of Europe was deeply involved in building the foundations of modern states with sophisticated bureaucratic apparatuses that received orders from and reported back to the capital. In order to administer and to improve commercial infrastructure, in order to tax, in order to deliver mail, and, inally, in order to recruit troops, the state had irst to know and to understand its territory. It is this process of knowledge creation, led by scholars and scientists who were simultaneously bureaucrats and oicials, that Göderle investigates. he book itself is divided into four main chapters. he irst presents a comprehensive overview of the converging historiographies of Imperial history, the history of knowledge, and postcolonial histories that inform the book’s methods and approaches. First and foremost, Göderle presents Habsburg central Europe—indeed all of Europe—as a diverse space. Moreover, the ways in which it is diverse are not themselves products of a natural order of things, but have to be invented and discovered, turned into a way of knowledge and understanding, and inscribed into books, treatises, charts, and laws. Put another way, Göderle is interested in charting how ethnicity be- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 161 comes a way of understanding diferences between people, as well as the ways that ethnicity was understood as a category. Chapters 2 through 4 follow the processes in which knowledge and the state-building project were intertwined in Central Europe. To his credit Göderle sees this process as a European one, in which the Habsburg Empire took part—not a process that marked the Habsburg Empire as some type of anachronistic outlier. Chapter 2 introduces us in particular to Bruno Latour’s concept of the circulating reference and the larger constructions of knowledge in Latour’s actor-network theory. Göderle takes the state-building project of the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century European state and puts it in this framework with the explicit ways of interpreting information found in the implementation of a state census. Here, Göderle points out that, in order to enact a census, states had to spatially inscribe as belonging to a network of places (an intellectual process) and, at the same time, bring them under physical control through the marking of territorial borders and the policing of the countryside by gendarmes. In this bordered and ordered territory, the state further prepared these spaces to be studied and understood by physically numbering the houses and buildings. From the state, understood as a whole territory, to its subsequent parts of provinces, counties, districts, cities, towns, communes, and houses, space was hierarchized, ordered, and was now “knowable.” In this physical-intellectual context, the irst real census took place in the Austrian half of the Habsburg Empire in 1869. Göderle explains the creation of this irst scientiic Habsburg census, the construction of its categories, and the compilation of the information. he result was a chain of meaning that connected the residents of a house to a community, a district, a country, a province. Of course, the census also divided peoples, creating categories of professions, hierarchies of family members, and lists of confessions. Again, the census allowed the state sought to make its territories and peoples knowable, readable, and therefore understood in abstract form. At the same time, the census began a process of recalculation and reconceptualization on the part of the people who answered questions about their living situation. he process of asking questions led individuals to think about their answers and to consider their relationship to the space and people around them. he census could awaken the imagination of the peoples, who then began to consider their answers. he ethnicization of territory thus was a two-sided process, but investigator and subject contributed to the dialogue and framed the way spaces, places, and peoples could be understood. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 162 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Ater 1869, Göderle follows larger debates about statistics and national censuses within Europe’s scientiic community. Topics include the pursuit of objectivity, the grounding of objectivity in statistics, and the increasing belief that statistics could represent reality objectively. his belief and these pursuits came at the same time as questions regarding language, Volksstämme, and ethnicity emerged within the general academic community. It was from this larger academic community, and not necessary from the Habsburg state itself, that questions regarding language in the Austrian census were inally introduced in 1880. From there Göderle is able to use all the theoretical knowledge he covered in the preceding pages, including concepts of action-network theory, to bring together the diferent strands of argumentation in the book. he result is that Göderle shows the diferent roots of ethnicization in Austrian Central Europe. Ethnicization sprung from this network of people, from the tools of knowledge used by the state in its state-building process, and from the scientiic pursuit of objectivity itself as a way of understanding the diversity of peoples and spaces and history. We have, for a long time, understood the grounding of nations in the concept of an imagined community. Göderle tells us, in this excellent volume, how that imagination works. John Deak University of Notre Dame Klara Gross-Elixmann, Poetologie und Epistemologie: Schreibstragien und Autorschatskonzepte in Arthur Schnitzlers medizinischen Texten. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2016. 350 pp. A considerable tome, this PhD dissertation completed by Klara GrossElixmann at the Ruhr University, Bochum, in 2016 is intended to give Schnitzler’s medical texts the same atention as those writen by his fellow author-physicians Gotfried Benn and Alfred Döblin. Schnitzler’s contributions to the ield appeared in the Wiener Medizinische Presse in 1886 and the Internationale klinische Rundschau from 1887 to 1894. Both publications were edited by his father, Dr. Johann Schnitzler. he young doctor wrote reviews (both detailed and perfunctory) covering some of the key medical controversies of the time, essays that took a stand on professional ethics and the state of hospitals and summaries of the proceedings of medical congresses. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 163 In addition, his irst and only research paper appeared in the Internationale klinische Rundschau in 1889. hough Gross-Elixmann acknowledges the pioneering eforts of Horst homé, Michael Worbs, Hillary Hope Herzog, and Laura Otis, among others, in publishing and bringing atention to Schnitzler’s medical journalism, she insists that their analyses lack the close scrutiny ofered by literary theory. his perspective, she proposes, not only allows for subtle distinctions between Schnitzler as author (igure of authority), reviewer (knowledgeable reader), or simply messenger (performer of editorial tasks) but also highlights the narrative strategies that scientiic and literary discourse share. he ive chapters cover Schnitzler’s critical take in his reviews, his outlook on the relationship between doctor and patient, his use of the protocol of the case history, his language critique, and his approach to experiment in both his research and literary eforts. hree of the chapters present linear parallels between medical and literary texts, rather than the promised comparison of structural strategies. In the irst, concerning Schnitzler’s reviews of books on syphilis, hypnosis, addiction, and heredity, the connection to literary material relies on theme rather than structure. Gross-Elixmann cites Andreas hameyer’s letzter Brief (the power of suggestion), Mein Freund Ypsilon (genius and madness), and Reigen (which Gross-Elixmann reads, like Otis, as a metaphor for syphilitic contagion). he same can be said of her analysis of Schnitzler’s skeptical views of the medical profession in his Sylvesterbetrachtungen and the reports from medical congresses. hey are directly relected in the ambiguous roles played by the physicians in Das Vermächtnis, Der Weg ins Freie, and Dr. Bernhardi, among others. And in the chapter that analyzes Schnitzler’s “Sprachkritik,” the link between a review rejecting euphemisms for syphilis and the criticism of communication in Das Wort is forced. he former represented an atempt to veil the truth, the later made an irresponsible game of it. It is in her focus on the structural inluence of two medical paradigms— the case history and the experiment—that the author does present new insights into Schnitzler’s techniques. For the narrative form of case histories, Gross-Elixmann relies on the four-part sequence elucidated by Nicholas Pethes: “Die Biographik, die Dramaturgie der Wendepunkte, das Interesse an Normabweichung und der Anspruch des Exemplarischen” (51). Using this framework, she presents a detailed study of the case histories in Schnitzler’s research paper “Über funktionelle Aphonie und deren Behandlung durch Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 164 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Hypnose und Suggestion” and discusses the manner in which the genre is adapted in the novellas Sterben, Leutnant Gustl, and Fräulein Else. In Sterben, writen in 1892, the case history format leaves litle room for the characters to develop in depth—as Schnitzler, himself, recognized. Gross-Elixmann cites his 1904 leter to Hugo von Hofmanstahl years ater it was published: “Es stammt aus der Zeit wo mich der Fall mehr interessiert hat als die Menschen, und ich denke das meiste aus dieser Epoche muss wie lutlos wirken.” hough both Leutnant Gustl and Fräulein Else can also be tied to the same narrative structure, by the time they were writen Schnitzler had igured out how to bring “air” into the medical prototype. He presented the “case” not only in the irst person but from within. During Schnitzler’s time at the Vienna Medical School, the basic text on the experimental method was Dr. Claude Bernard’s 1865 publication Einfürhung in das Studium der experimentellen Medizin. Bernard speciied the three stages of an experiment—an observer provokes a situation with an aim in mind, follows up with comparisons, comes to a grounded judgment. Schnitzler adapted the form in iction by moving a character from a familiar situation to a new one, comparing the results of the change, but then allowing the reader to be the judge of the outcome. his patern is clearly seen in Die Frage an das Schicksal, Paracelsus, and Hirtenlöte. Karen Gross-Elixmann’s book is an encyclopedic venture ofering a wide range of observations on the strategies—medical and aesthetic—by which knowledge (material, ethical, psychological) is conveyed in the two disciplines Schnitzler commanded. And yet is it possible to do entirely without biography in such an enterprise, as the author does? Surely, some personal statements such as the one the twenty-ive-year-old Schnitzler made in his diary on March 10, 1887, should be taken into account: “Größenteils besorgt noch der Papa meine Agenden. Ich bin überhaupt kein Journalist—gewiss kein Medizinischer!” Soon ater his father’s death, Schnitzler let journalism, never to take it up again. His feelings about the genre must have had something to do with his “Schreibstrategien und Autorschatskonzepte.” he ironic tone of many of his medical texts, for instance, which goes unexamined by GrossElixmann, may ind its source there. Monica Strauss Independent scholar Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 165 Sabine Straub, Zusammengehaltener Zerfall: Hugo von Hofmannsthals Poetik der Multiplen Persönlichkeit. Würzburger Beiträge zur deutschen Philologie XLIV. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2015. 424 + XLIV pp. It is a relief to ind a book that does not spread any shallow misjudgments of Hofmannsthal, the irst that he was a typically languid esthete in a decadent society, the second that he uncritically endorsed that society as an unregenerate conservative. Upholding these untruths requires polemically selective reading, whereas Sabine Straub so thoroughly grounds her convincing theses and arguments in primary research as to create work no less ethically vibrant than it is intellectually rigorous. hanks to Straub’s painstaking documentation, this reviewer understands anew the kinship between the words conscience and conscientious. Biography, accounts of working methods, and related studies of history and culture are valid only to the extent that they illuminate the works of art (not “texts”; never “texts”) writers create. Straub maintains a balance between external inluences on Hofmannsthal’s works and the works themselves. She investigates the psychic conditions Hofmannsthal (and, by extension, not only he) needed to sustain the exhausting tensions of the creative act: “Ziel der vorliegenden Arbeit ist es, die so erfahrene Dynamik des zusammengehaltenen Zerfalls als einen Modus von Identität, Bewußtsein und Wahrnehmung auszuweisen, der für Hofmannsthal das ideale Seting gelingender ästhetischer Produktivität bildet” (15). “Suggestion, Dissoziation und Innere Wahrnehmung” (15) are the three main psychodynamic components of Hofmannsthal’s experiment in fostering his creativity, leading him to “prolongierte Aufenthalte im Schwellenland zwischen Wachen und Schlaf, Leben und Tod, in hypnotischer Trance und Fieberwahn [ . . . ] sich aus fortwährender Dissoziation und Re-Kombination zusammensetzende Dynamik eines vielfachen Ich” (15). Straub argues that the elements of Hofmannsthal’s personal and artistic makeup “im Identitätskonzept der Multiplen Persönlichkeit zusammengefasst werden können” (16). his unusual set of theses may make this calculatedly reticent, patrician, quintessentially Austrian writer suddenly look like a igure from E.T.A. Hofmann or Poe, something out of Doctor Caligari or he hree Faces of Eve. We should remember, however, that Hofmannsthal indeed drew on Hofmann (Das Bergwerk zu Falun), and we can appreciate Straub’s requisition of the- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 166 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 se concepts by recalling Oscar Wilde’s famous dictum: “Psychology is in its infancy, as a science. I hope, in the interests of Art, it will always remain so.” Wilde was responding to an upsurge of interest throughout the Western world in psychic phenomena no longer taken seriously but then passionately embraced in lieu of religion: Consider the ierce advocacy of spiritualism by Elizabeth Barret Browning and Arthur Conan Doyle or the faith William Butler Yeats placed in automatic writing. Psychological processes today (perhaps too cavalierly) dismissed as “crackpot” beliefs at one time animated intelligent, perceptive people by no means gullible or dat. Hofmannsthal’s fascination with pre- or nonrational psychic phenomena plays a central role in his work. Decades ago Michael Hamburger pointed out the direct connection between William James’s he Varieties of Religious Experience, with its documentation of the conversion process—an inexplicable, total, and instantaneous remaking of the soul—and Hofmannsthal’s libretto for Der Rosenkavalier, with the overwhelming and mystical irst encounter between Octavian and Sophie. Several comparatists (Sandra Corse, Arpad Szakolczai, heodore Ziolkowski) have examined Hofmannsthal’s interest in the arcane as relected in his work, especially Andreas, but Straub appears to be the irst to make a systematic inventory of Hofmannsthal’s sources so as to show their indispensable role in the act of writing, not just in the inished work—or the fragment. Straub’s book is in two parts; the irst “widmet sich dem jungen Hofmannsthal [ . . . ]bis zum Jahre 1907” (19), with emphasis on a therapeutic examination of his artistic self in 1891, “in welchem Hofmannsthal am Ausgangspunkt seiner Karriere die Frage nach den Kriterien dichterischer Identität stellt.” He studied spiritism, parapsychology, and medical applications of hypnosis to understand his own creativity, which oten depended on “Schreibhemmung als kreative Keimzelle,” to quote one section title (105). he necessary barrier set up by not being able to write as a condition of writing casts new light on the famous Chandos leter (103–104). In this part, Straub documents Hofmannsthal’s sources encyclopedically, atested by her list of “Quellen,” those works Hofmannsthal directly consulted (400–408). he second part ofers a close reading of one work only, which “als zentrales und in der Literaturlandschat um 1900 einmaliges Textphänomen bewertet werden darf: das Andreas-Projekt (1907–1927).” Straub is not the only commentator to see this work as the sine qua non of Hofmannsthal’s art, its very incompleteness an integral part of its formal achievement. Noting the extraordinary Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 167 inluence of a single source on Andreas—Morton Prince’s he Dissociation of a Personality—Straub demonstrates almost exact parallels between the stages of conlict and resolution experienced by Hofmannsthal’s title character and the process of dissociation, recombination, and expansion Prince details. Meticulously studying the holograph manuscript (reproduced in an appendix), Straub inds evidence for these stages in Hofmannsthal’s whole approach to emendation and rewriting. Even if the parallels are as much contrived as discovered, there is no question that this study consolidates previous research and covers new ground by examining the writing process itself in relation to the artist’s precarious psychological equilibrium. Hofmannsthal was fond of quoting (as in his Briefe des Zurückgekehrten) a dictum Lichtenberg borrowed from Joseph Addison: “he whole man must move at once.” He would not have been so struck by it had he not realized how great a challenge the simultaneous movement of a complex psyche is. Straub’s great merit is to have made that dynamic clear in the art and the life of her subject. Vincent Kling La Salle University Eva Demmerle, Kaiser Karl, Mythos und Wirklichkeit. Vienna: Amalthea Verlag, 2016. 228 pp. When you examine scholarship on the Habsburg family, a few big names stand out. here are countless texts examining the lives and leadership of Maria heresia, Joseph II, and Franz Joseph, but few scholars have given much atention to the last emperor of Austria-Hungary, Kaiser Karl. Eva Demmerle is an exception to that rule, and her recent book Kaiser Karl, Mythos und Wirklichkeit is an interesting atempt to ill that void. She uses new sources to draw a more complete picture of Kaiser Karl and demonstrates that a lot of what we have assumed about him has been based on myth and perhaps even intentional misdirection. Demmerle makes a strong argument that, based on these previously unavailable documents, we should reassess both Kaiser Karl and the late years of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in general. Demmerle makes no secret of her connections to the Habsburg family. Between 1995 and 2011, she worked with Oto von Habsburg, the oldest son of Kaiser Karl and a member of the European Parliament. She had unique ac- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 168 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 cess to the family archives and has made use of that resource for most of her publications. Her experiences and opportunity give her insights that other historians might not have. She does not obfuscate her personal role with the Habsburgs, and the relationship does not invalidate her conclusions as a historian. It is, in fact, precisely what makes this book valuable. he Habsburg’s privately held family archive is undoubtedly a treasure trove of material, and it is exciting to see even the small glimpses into it that we get through this relatively narrowly focused text. A central part of Demmerle’s argument is that Kaiser Karl has been treated unfairly by other historians and journalists because he was not mythologized in the same way that his predecessor Kaiser Franz Joseph was. She goes on to suggest that the worst accusations made against the young Kaiser were the result of a deliberate propaganda campaign carried out by nationalists within the German government, such as General Erich Ludendorf and Field Marshall Paul von Hindenburg. In response to the Sixtus Afair, the possibility that Austria-Hungary could reach out to France to end the war, the two German military leaders set out to preemptively undermine Kaiser Karl, planting rumors that he was a drinker and that he was dominated by his wife, Zita. A great deal of their vitriol seems to have been aimed at Kaiserin Zita, who was an Italian aristocrat of French origin and was suspected by German nationalists of having mixed loyalties. his aspect of Demmerle’s book is particularly compelling and, given the source material to which she has access, I would be excited to see her delve more deeply into Zita’s character and role in these major world events. As a woman with access to power in a time when few of her peers had such recourse, she is an interesting igure and perhaps merits a biography of her own. One of Demmerle’s more interesting chapters, titled “Dokumentation,” comes toward the end of the book. In this chapter she presents quotations and longer excerpts from documents in the Habsburg family archive that were most relevant for her project. his is undoubtedly the strongest aspect of Demmerle’s work. By bringing to light documents that have been privately held and largely unavailable to researchers, Demmerle’s work gives us new insights on this important era. My one criticism is that I wish she had done more with those sources to show the reader exactly how they change our understanding of Kaiser Karl and the time in which he lived. I would like to see some of the documents reproduced in full, and she could have included more endnotes to let us know about the sources she used to draw her conclusions. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 169 Overall, this is an enjoyable text to read and presents new perspectives on an important historical igure who has been neglected up to now. Demmerle presents a great deal of evidence to support her claims that Kaiser Karl has been treated unfairly by previous historians and that he had a compelling vision for a continent brought together rather than divided into nation-states. his is undoubtedly the perspective that his son Oto brought to his work in politics, particularly with the International Paneuropean Union and as a member of the European Parliament. Would this be a good text for a student new to the topics of World War I or the inal years of the Habsburg Empire? No, but it is certainly a useful contribution for advanced scholars who are familiar with the canonical works on such subjects and are interested in a diferent perspective. Demmerle’s writing is accessible, and her sources are unique. She has chosen to write on an under-researched igure in the history of twentieth-century Europe and gives the reader insights that they will not get elsewhere. All of that makes her book a valuable contribution to the ield of Central European history. Laura A. Detre West Chester University Michael Kessler und Paul Michael Lützeler, Hrsg., Hermann-BrochHandbuch. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. 670 S. Welche Rezeptionsgeschichte müssen ein Autor und sein Werk hinter sich haben, um zum Gegenstand eines umfangreichen Handbuches zu werden? Und welche Funktion(en) hat ein solches Handbuch? Elfriede Jelinek, die vier Jahre alt war, als Broch 1951 starb, war letzterem mit einem ihr gewidmeten Handbuch (hg. von Pia Janke, rezensiert in Journal of Austrian Studies 48:4) dennoch um drei Jahre voraus. Am Nobelpreis, den sie ihrerseits 2004 erhielt, wäre auch Broch interessiert gewesen (wie Briefwechsel zeigen), jedoch bekam er ihn nie zugesprochen (40). homas Mann, Nobelpreisträger des Jahres 1929, hat seit 2015 bereits das zweite deutschsprachige Handbuch (hg. von Andreas Blödorn und Friedhelm Marx) auf dem Kontor—ein sinnbildhater Vorsprung Broch gegenüber, wenn man die deutliche Diferenz bedenkt, die das jeweilige Renommee beider im amerikanischen Exil (und darüber hinaus) trennte, obgleich beide einander kannten und respektierten (515–17). Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 170 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Mag Broch nie eine solche Breitenwirkung wie Kaka oder homas Mann gefunden haben und, wie Gunther Martens in seinem Forschungsbericht anmerkt, bislang keine Forschungseinrichtung seinem Werk gewidmet worden sein (542), so haben die literarischen und theoretischen Werke Brochs dennoch ein nachhaltiges internationales Echo gezeitigt. Das BrochHandbuch zeigt dies sowohl inhaltlich wie auch anhand der Liste der beitragenden AutorInnen aus sieben verschiedenen Ländern. Martens erwähnt trefend den zirkulären Efekt einer nicht simpliciter anzunehmenden Vertrautheit mit Broch, was in der Forschung dazu führt, “dass sehr viel Wissen über den Autor nicht vorausgesetzt, sondern immer wieder neu aufgerollt werden muss” (541). Eine der primären Funktionen dieses Handbuchs ergibt sich direkt aus dieser Diagnose: das von der Forschung erarbeitete biographische und interpretatorische Wissen an einem Ort versammelt bereitzustellen, um eine neue Voraussetzungslage zu schafen. Dies betrit zum einen das Leben Brochs und seine biographischen Verbindungen zu zahlreichen Intellektuellen seiner Zeit. Kein Forscher weiß mehr über die Einzelheiten von Brochs Leben zu berichten als der Mitherausgeber des Handbuchs, Paul Michael Lützeler, und wer sich nicht an die 400 Seiten seiner vor 30 Jahren vorgelegten Brochbiographie herantraut, dem bieten die 50 einleitenden Seiten des Handbuchs einen nuancierten Einblick in Brochs Leben sowie einen ersten Überblick über das Nachleben von Brochs Werk seit den fünfziger Jahren. Ebenfalls zum biographischen Teil zählt das von Michael Kessler zusammengestellte nützliche alphabetische Verzeichnis kurzer Lebensdaten von allen wesentlichen Freunden und Bekannten Brochs,—ob bekannt oder beinahe vergessen—das die Lektüre von Sekundärliteratur oder Brochs Briefwerk, welche von vielen dieser Namen durchzogen sind, erleichtert. Das Briefwerk selbst wird in späteren Kapiteln thematisiert, wo deutlich wird, in welchem Maße eine Rekonstruktion von Brochs verzweigtem Denken und Schreiben von einer Lektüre seines von ihm ot bis zur Erschöpfung betriebenen Briefverkehrs proitieren kann. Brochs Romanen sowie dem späten Zyklus Die Schuldlosen wird jeweils ein eigenes Kapitel in Artikellänge gewidmet, und den Autoren gelingt hier durchweg der Balanceakt zwischen inhaltlicher Zusammenfassung, interpretatorischer Akzentsetzung und einem Aufzeigen von Kontexten. So betont Stephen Dowden die Rolle der Kunst in den Schlafwandlern, während Barbara Mahlmann Bauers Kapitel über Die Verzauberung ausführlich auf den Mythologie-Diskurs und Brochs Verhältnis zu Nietzsche eingeht. Jürgen Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 171 Heizmanns Eintrag zu Der Tod des Vergil macht diesen komplexen Text zugänglich durch eine Anbindung formaler Aspekte an ethische Fragen, die in Brochs späterem Werk sein literarisches Schreiben nicht nur überlagern, sondern dieses auch strukturieren helfen. Brochs theoretische Schriten sind insgesamt weniger bekannt als seine Romane, und so ist es ein Verdienst des Handbuches, diesem Teil seines Werks 150 Seiten einzuräumen, auf denen zwar nicht jeder Essay Brochs einzeln verhandelt werden kann, aber doch die Schwerpunkte seiner theoretischen Arbeit herausgestellt werden können, wie in der Werkausgabe geordnet nach den Gebieten Philosophie, Literatur/Kunst/Kultur und Politik. Alice Stašková erläutert unter anderem die Rolle der Begrife von Stil, Ornament und Kitsch, sowie Brochs Haltung zu nichtliterarischen Kunstformen. homas Borgards Beitrag zu Brochs philosophischen Essays betont vor allem das Weiterwirken des Neukantianismus bei Broch und die Konlikte, in welche dieses noch systematisch orientierte Denken angesichts des von Nietzsche und Weber diagnostizierten Umschlags von Rationalität in Wertrelativismus gerät. Dies führt laut Borgards zu Brochs paradoxer Absicht, “eine Deontik ethischer und politischer Normen auf weltanschaulich neutraler Grundlage zu errichten” (390)—eine Formulierung, die konzise Brochs Herausforderungen in seinem Spätwerk bennent, und die für Broch, der trotz aller methodologischen Präzision nie systematischer Philosoph sein konnte oder wollte, nicht unbedingt als ein Makel gelten muß. Das benannte Paradoxon zeigt sich auch in Monika Ritzers Besprechung von Brochs posthum veröfentlichten und nicht fertiggestellten theoretischen Hauptwerk der Massenwahntheorie, welches sich nicht scheut, eine ethische Letztbegründung des von Broch so genannten “Irdisch-Absoluten” zu liefern und den kollektivpsychischen Efekt des Wertezerfalls wissenschatlich zu fassen, während aber die praktische Airmation von Humanität, die sich Broch erhote, weiterhin auf dichterische Artikulation angewiesen bleibt (456). Barbara Picht weist in ihrem zusammenfassenden und sehr klar geschriebenen Kapitel zu Brochs politischen Schriten auf den verwandten Zusammenhang zwischen Brochs erkenntnistheoretischen Ambitionen und seiner Behandlung konkreter politischer Fragen hin (Wehrhatigkeit der Demokratie, Bill of Duties, Menschenrechte und deren internationaler Schutz). Viele der genannten Brochschen hemen lassen sich nicht auf nur eine Phase seines Werks oder auf ein Textgenre beschränken. Insofern überrascht es nicht, daß eine Reihe von wichtigen biographischen Episoden oder Bezü- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 172 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 gen auf andere Personen, Werke oder Kontexte über das gesamte Handbuch hinweg wiederholt autauchen, allerdings ohne direkten Verweis auf Parallelen an anderen Stellen des Buches. Es ist daher vielleicht weniger für Leser intendiert, die es—wie der Rezensent—von vorne bis hinten durcharbeiten, sondern eher für jene, die gezielt nach einer Erläuterung bestimmter Teile oder Aspekte von Brochs Werk fahnden. Wer in diesem Sinne sucht, der indet hier reichlich. Wenn auch ein Handbuch allein keinen Autoren gängig machen kann, so wird hier dennoch überzeugend dafür argumentiert, dass sich die fortgesetzte Beschätigung mit Brochs Werk lohnt. Wer an dieser teilhaben möchte, dem bietet das Handbuch einen vorzüglichen Anlaufspunkt. Martin Klebes University of Oregon Sarah McGaughey, Ornament as Crisis: Architecture, Design, and Modernity in Hermann Broch’s he Sleepwalkers. Evanston, IL: Northwestern UP, 2016. 219 pp. In Ornament as Crisis: Architecture, Design, and Modernity in Hermann Broch’s he Sleepwalkers, Sarah McGaughey probes the intertwined discourses of architecture and literature in Hermann Broch’s he Sleepwalkers trilogy (1933) to demonstrate “the ways in which architecture and its discourses are at once a part of literature and an object of study for literature” (4). his analysis intensiies the relationship between literature and architecture by revealing the depth of architectural inluence on both the content and form of Broch’s trilogy and by demonstrating the literary insights generated through the application of an architectural idiom. he book consists of four chapters and an introduction: One chapter is devoted to each of the novels that make up he Sleepwalkers, plus a inal chapter that analyzes the architectonic structure of the trilogy itself. In her introduction, McGaughey acknowledges the polemic “Disintegration of Values” essay from the inal novel of Broch’s trilogy, in which Broch critiques architectural ornamentation. Rather than focusing on the essay—and rendering architecture an essayistic ornament within the novel—McGaughey deploys it to move beyond canonical ainities between the architectural and literary avant-gardes. Instead, McGaughey expands aesthetic understandings of architecture Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 173 to include “vernacular” structures (8) and an emphasis on spatiality. Citing Adolf Loos’s rejection of ornament, McGaughey positions Broch’s novel in a time of architectural transition that “relies less on ornament and points to the ways in which the individual’s role in the creation of space can challenge contemporary architectural discourse” (151). Architecture is not only experienced by Broch’s protagonists, it itself sculpts their narratives by creating or resolving problems, determining spaces, and mirroring the search for orientation and expression characteristic of modernist iction. McGaughey convincingly frames Broch’s trilogy as an architectural project tasked with anchoring the reader within the low of built architectural change. his reading demonstrates the inluence of architecture on literary form, but also lodges a literary critique of architectural progress that fails to create spaces of stable meaning. McGaughey’s study thus successfully crats a fragile, yet insightful relationship between architecture and literature in Broch’s trilogy that illuminates both their discursive parallels and conlicts. Chapter 1, “Searching for the Spatial Representation of Modern Experience in 1888: Pasenow oder die Romantik,” examines Prussian oicer Joachim von Pasenow’s struggle for orientation in a world of coded binaries. Romanticized tenement housing and overdetermined bourgeois interiors serve as literal, architectural oppositions between tradition and novelty, city and country. Similar dynamics characterize chapter 2, “Early Twentieth-Century Architecture and Visual Experience in 1903: Esch oder die Anarchie.” Here, McGaughey contrasts the themes of visuality and physicality, art and science to illustrate the inner conlict architecture poses for accountant August Esch. Chapter 3, “he Social Function of Architecture: Architectural Experience in 1918: Huguenau oder die Sachlichkeit,” draws on a broad cast of characters to explore how the functionalization of architecture—per the late modernist mantra “form follows function”—stands in tension with architecture’s ability to offer sustained structures of meaning. Chapter 4, “Structural Engineering and the Architectonics of he Sleepwalkers,” proposes Broch’s trilogy as essentially architectural, pointing to the author’s conscious creation of a built textual environment. McGaughey’s thorough analysis of he Sleepwalkers evidences her skill as a close reader, but several well-developed discussions stand out as particularly impactful. By drawing on Loos to embed architectural coding in the tradition of the modernist language crisis, her study forges a concrete link between architectural theory and a paradigmatic modernist literary event. While lite- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 174 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 rature and architecture create spaces of intelligibility, agreement, and communication, the resulting unintelligibility of architectural spaces in Broch’s trilogy designates architecture as a cypher for linguistic crisis. he link between architecture and language thus enables McGaughey to simultaneously document architectural crisis as diegetic motif and the language crisis as formal challenge within Broch’s trilogy. Additionally, the treatment of Hanna Wendling in chapter 3 displays both depth and precision. he breadth of material supporting this reading—ranging from contemporary periodicals to feminist theory and the architectural language of Loos—yields a convincing interpretation that connects to extra-diegetic theoretical and historical concerns, while also invoking and reframing earlier close readings to demonstrate the progression of Broch’s narrative through the successive novels. McGaughey’s analysis of Die Schlafwandler thus delivers a thorough and lucid commentary on the central signiicance of architecture in Broch’s trilogy. here nevertheless remain a few areas where the reader might wish for more depth. Foremost among these is the unqualiied use of the term experience. Given its signiicant connotations, particularly in the German context, the connection to a salient concept of experience might have anchored the study even more strongly against modernist discourses where experience itself is oten understood to be in a state of crisis. Moreover, while McGaughey provides exhaustive historical foundations for each of her chapters, Broch’s Vienna is largely absent. While anachronous to the historical time of Broch’s novels, the inluence, for instance, of Red Vienna’s groundbreaking architectural projects from the 1920s on Broch’s creative process may have yielded productive insights. hese comments remain minor suggestions that do not detract from what McGaughey has accomplished but rather call for further work both on Broch’s trilogy and the relationship between modernist architecture and literature. For Broch scholars, McGaughey’s study presents a thorough and convincing examination of Broch’s ainity for architecture and its impact on he Sleepwalkers, validates the canonical relationship between modernist art and architecture, and proposes a productive template for thinking architecturally about modernist texts. Richard M. Lambert III University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 175 Jacques Lajarrige, ed., Soma Morgenstern—Von Galizien ins amerikanische Exil | Soma Morgenstern—De la Galicie à l’éxil américain. Forum: Österreich 1. Berlin: Frank & Timme, 2015. 498 pp. he inaugural volume of Frank & Timme’s series Forum: Österreich stays true to its title in publishing symposium proceedings from 2013 given in Toulouse at the Centre de Recherches et d’Études Germaniques. Together with Helga Miterbauer, Jacques Lajarrige carefully edits the papers and assembles a compilation of academic genres and languages. In addition, an account from Morgenstern’s son, Dan, recalls his father’s relationship to music and the personal and professional connection music created between them. Lastly, the volume concludes with the correspondence between Soma Morgenstern and heodor W. Adorno, spanning almost four decades and ending, as the subtitle suggests, in American exile. Arranged in six sections, the eighteen papers initially begin in chronological fashion. Victoria Lunzer-Talos opens with an in-depth, ity-page biography of Morgenstern’s early life followed by Marc Sagnol’s account of the Galician villages of Soma’s childhood. Relecting on the autobiographical writings of Morgenstern’s Jugendjahre, Marie Lehmann transitions to his writings, on which Larissa Cybenko theoretically elaborates when she argues for Ostgalizien as a natural, cultural, and social space in his narrative prose. Cybenko’s paper pivots the volume’s chronological structure toward the thematic. While the second section hones in on his feuilletonistic work, the later sections address Morgenstern’s lifelong interest in music, the motif of seeing in his work, and his relationship to the Jewish tradition. he inal section of papers bring Morgenstern in context with his friends and contemporaries—Appelfeld, Roth, Sperber—as well as the literature of the Shoah in Walter Schmitz’s analysis of Die Blutsäule. Coming to a close, the volume ends with the Briefwechsel between Morgenstern and Adorno thanks to the publication of their individual leters as a correspondence. What the regretably brief leter exchange brings to the fore is the speciic contribution to scholarship this publication of conference proceedings seeks to make—not only in the transformation of presentations into publications but also in the new availability of a helpful primary resource for scholars on a lesser-known igure. Furthermore, part of the correspondence echoes the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 176 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 sentiment of the endeavor. On behalf of his friend, “a shy and humble person, absolutely incapable of playing himself up and of puting his merits into the limelight,” Adorno addresses the National Relief Service in 1941 and stresses his “conviction that Dr. Morgenstern is really an outstanding novelist with an exceptional epic git and a most concrete imagination which makes his ictional characters into real living beings” (483). Continuing, he adds, “[T]he contribution Dr. Morgenstern can make to the understanding of Jewish problems as well as to the whole level of Jewish working is so considerable that the justiication for supporting him strongly cannot be overemphasized” (483). Adorno’s emphasis points to the key takeaway of the volume: he underlying theme stretching from Galician to American exile (and the stations in between, including Toulouse) is precisely Morgenstern’s relationship to and depiction of Jewish problems and Jewish workings in various contexts. Even though his relationship to the Jewish tradition is speciically addressed, perhaps best by Langer on Morgenstern’s citation, embedding, and efective reinterpretation of Midrash texts, almost every article acknowledges “Morgensterns Interesse an und Wissen über jüdische Dinge” (162). Over and against Joseph Roth, Barbara Breysach concludes that Morgenstern’s narrative logic centers on the religious act itself, whereas Roth translates the religious impulse into a cultural one. Going back to the inluence of his father, Abraham, Lunzer-Talos points out Morgenstern’s fortunate upbringing, which included positive experiences in secular schooling, while still living a “jüdisches Leben” (68). Yet, as Heinz Lunzer investigates, he went on to face diicult working conditions and discrimination at the Frankfurter Zeitung, ending in his dismissal under the Arier-Bestimmung des Schritleitergesetes in 1934. Of course, this was only the beginning; as Schmitz hypothesizes, when Morgenstern took up the Shoah in Die Blutsäule, he undertook an experiment—“Prozess einer Suche nach einer neuen Sprache im Rahmen des Deutschen”—in which he succeeded, but not without consequence (397). Fiteen years ater Ingolf Schulte’s complete edition of Soma Morgenstern’s works, these proceedings continue to build the body of scholarship for this uniquely situated writer. As Gerhard Langer phrases it: “Soma Morgensterns faszinierendes Oeuvre bietet reichhaltigen Stof für die unterschiedlichsten Wissensgebiete, was sich zum Teil auch in diesem Band spiegelt” (313). And although similar to Robert Weigel’s edited conference proceedings entitled “Vier große galizische Erzähler im Exil: H. W. Katz, Soma Morgen- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 177 stern, Manès Sperber und Joseph Roth” from 2005, this volume’s explicit focus on Morgenstern individually allows for the establishment of rigorous historical and literary-historical contexts and sustains the discussion of Morgenstern’s own poetics of exile. Kaleigh Bangor Vanderbilt University Peter Sarkany, Meaning-Centered Existential Analysis: Philosophy as Psychotherapy in the Work of Viktor E. Frankl. Translated by Emese Czintos. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2016. 121 pp. he insightful studies in Peter Sarkany’s Meaning-Centered Existential Analysis: Philosophy as Psychotherapy in the Work of Viktor E. Frankl examine the third Viennese school of psychotherapy, known as logotherapy, founded by the eminent philosopher Viktor Frankl (1905–1997) as a philosophical trend of psychotherapy. Each essay focuses on the relationship between this meaningcentered existential analysis and various ields such as phenomenology, philosophical counseling, ethics, and religion. he initial chapter introduces the concept of the “philosophical care of the soul” and its relationship to psychotherapy, whereas chapters 2, 3, and 4 provide “methodological approaches to the philosophical importance of logotherapy and existential analysis” (13). Of particular interest is chapter 4, which deals with the philosophical method of Socratic dialogue. he last four chapters discuss the further philosophical dimensions of Frankl’s work with comparisons to the thought of Heidegger, Hartmann, and Ingarden with a inal chapter on Frankl’s philosophy of religion in contrast to Freud’s ideas on religion. In chapter 1, Sarkany states that the philosophical care of the soul does not focus primarily on the individual’s salvation, health or physical, spiritual or social well-being but on “the concrete meaning of man’s lived existence, the comprehensive meaning of a contemplative life, and on the contemplation of meaning” (24). his “life-philosophical approach” (24) considers the striving for wisdom and for happiness as one unity. Sarkany deines this approach as “the care of thinking” (25) and outlines three dimensions of this approach: (1) problem-solving or thinking that focuses on concrete problems; (2) lifephilosophical/ethical thinking that deals with the care of the self, including Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 178 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 the formation of values and duties that shape one’s conduct; and (3) contemplative thinking which involves a “transcendental” condition that enables the consideration of the relationship between one’s self and another. he subsequent three chapters ofer the core of Sarkany’s depiction of a meaning-centered existential analysis. he foundations of this analysis are based on Frankl’s Philosophy and Psychotherapy (1938), in which the terms logotherapy and existential analysis appear together to denote a “spiritually approached” (32) psychotherapy aimed at “a responsible being” whose goal is creating or inding meaning. Frankl clearly distinguishes between traditional psychoanalysis and logotherapy: “Psychotherapy endeavors to bring instinctual facts to consciousness. Logotherapy [ . . . ] seeks to bring to awareness spiritual realities. As existential analysis it is particularly concerned with making men conscious of their responsibility” (32). his responsibility is always a responsibility toward a meaning and encompasses other existential issues such as freedom, challenges (such as sufering, sin, death), and possibilities (work, love). Frankl states that humans can ind meaning in three ways: (1) through the creation of something, such as a work of art; (2) through an emotional experience, such as loving someone; and (3) through atitudinal meaning in which meaning can be found in the atitude one chooses within even the most hopeless and unchangeable situations such as a severe illness. As a concentration camp inmate, Frankl discovered these options as a means to survive the horrendous camp conditions. In his landmark memoir Man’s Search for Meaning: An Introduction to Logotherapy, Frankl discusses the improvised cabaret inmates created with songs, poems, and ironic jokes that helped them endure their sufering and the redeeming value of loving another, even when the beloved is absent. Relecting on his love for his wife enabled Frankl not only to survive but also to create meaning in a senseless and brutal existence: “In a position of uter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his suferings in the right way—an honorable way—in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulillment” (49). In a similar vein, the logotherapist guides the client toward the possibilities of achieving meaning in his or her life through understanding the client’s life situation and exploring the paterns of his or her existence and values. Furthermore, the focus of existential analysis is always on the here and now, on the concrete possibilities of achieving meaning in a given situation. If Frankl’s approach continues Karl Jaspers’s existential philosophy, then Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 179 his methodology is based on the Socratic dialogue (chapter 4), which has the widest application in a variety of areas—child rearing, education, social work, and therapy. Based on respectful conversation with a therapist or a group, in which personal experiences and difering viewpoints are shared, the Socratic dialogue not only enables the discovery of one’s values but also serves as a mode of ethical personality training as it teaches, directly or indirectly, to respect the discourse and viewpoints of others and to think and act responsibly. he elaboration of the Socratic method by Leonard Nelson, a philosopher from Götingen, is of particular interest as it outlines a detailed practical application of the Socratic method including the sharing and analysis of individual life examples of the chosen topic and the creation of a deinition of the topic based on dialogue and consensus. If the initial four essays ofer a summary of Frankl’s logotherapy and its practical application, then the inal four chapters situate his thought in its historical context and, consequently, further reine his ideas by juxtaposing them with those of his predecessors such as Freud. For example, in chapter 5, Sarkany contrasts Frankl’s ideas with those of German philosopher Nicolai Hartmann, who, like Frankl, poses the question of ataining meaning in an imperfect world of sufering. Whereas Hartmann speaks of Sinngebung, Frankl employs the term Sinnindung. hus, an individual discovers (and, I would add, creates) meaning in a concrete task or stance toward a particular situation. his readable, lucid text for academics and non-specialists ofers a thorough description of this signiicant school of psychoanalysis as well as a practical application of Frankl’s thought in therapeutic and educational setings. Most importantly, it ofers an alternative mode of thinking and living as a possible antidote for a contemporary world that promotes self-gratiication but also begets isolation. Frankl’s key concept of self-transcendence, in which an individual inds meaning beyond oneself and authentic happiness, counters this promotion of self-interest. Sarkany underscores this point when he cites German thinker Robert Spaemann: “One oten hears these days that the purpose of education is to teach young people to represent their own interests. However, education has a much more fundamental purpose, namely, to teach young people that taking interest in something should be their interest. Because who learnt how to represent their own interests, but is not actually interested in anything other than themselves, cannot be a happy man” (64–65). Margarete Landwehr West Chester University Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 180 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Wolf A. Greinert, Hans Weigel: “Ich war einmal . . .” Eine Biographie. Vienna: Styria, 2015. 415 pp. hose familiar with Austrian literary culture ater 1945 will have encountered the name Hans Weigel (1908–1991) primarily in the context of his work as a mentor of young writers such as Ilse Aichinger, Ingeborg Bachmann, and Milo Dor; as a Cold Warrior who, with Friedrich Torberg and others, advocated a boycot of plays by Bertolt Brecht on Viennese stages for roughly a decade beginning in 1953; or as a cultural critic, especially in the areas of theater and music. here was, however, much more to his creative endeavors, as he was also a writer of novels, plays, poetry, libreti, song texts, and cabaret skits as well as a proliic translator from the French, including most of Molière’s plays and a radio personality. Sadly, scholarship on Hans Weigel has been spoty at best, especially since his death in 1991. A scholarly conference organized by Dr. Wolfgang Straub in Vienna and Krems in 2013 and the resulting book, Hans Weigel: Kabaretist, Kritiker, Romancier, Literaturmanager (2014), did much to correct this but still let many areas untouched. With the appearance in late 2015 of Wolf Greinert’s biography of Hans Weigel, however, scholars, cultural historians, and even a general public interested in Austrian history and culture now have a more comprehensive picture of one of the most inluential and dynamic igures of Austrian culture in the mid-twentieth century. As an authorized biography with a foreword by Weigel’s third wife, Elfriede Ot, and a chapter about their professional and personal relationship, this book has in some parts a rather congratulatory tone, especially in the inal chapter, which goes through the praise he received on the occasion of his round-numbered birthdays. he reader might thus expect to ind here a rather stilted portrayal of Weigel and the controversies in which he was oten embroiled. hat is, happily, not the case. his volume strikes an admirable balance between sympathy and criticism, not overlooking Weigel’s many laws in his personal and professional undertakings but convincingly pointing out that his contribution to Austrian culture since the 1930s was much more than just his Cold War polemics or his support of young writers. Greinert explores in some detail why Weigel was viewed in many circles as a polarizing igure in Austrian literary culture ater 1945. Certainly, he never shied away from a good polemic or blunt criticism in his many writings on political and cultural topics. And his “erzählende Biographie” of the actor Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 181 Werner Krauß, of Jud Süß infamy, which was published in 1958, as well as his numerous campaigns against the Austrian PEN Club and other organizations only served to reinforced his image as the “Got-sei-bei-uns” of Austrian culture of the time. Similarly, his advocacy for the Brecht boycot cemented his image for some as Austria’s Cold Warrior par excellence. As Greinert points out, however, Weigel greatly admired Brecht’s poetry and short dramatic sketches and appeared himself—in a non-speaking role—in a 1932 staging of Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny in the Raimund heater in Vienna. Among the more fascinating chapters of Weigel’s life was his extensive efort to convince both Jewish and non-Jewish émigrés to return to Austria ater the war, arguing, unconvincingly for the former group for the most part, that anti-Semitism had been swept away with the NS regime. During his trip to the United States in 1948 to visit his parents, who had emigrated to New York before the war, Weigel met with many of them as part of this efort. Insightful, too, are his long leters from the US to his friends back in Vienna about his experiences in that country in which he strongly criticized, among other things, the American “Herrschat der Diletanten” where “Analphabeten bestimmen, was Kunst ist.” Weigel’s strained perception of his Jewish identity is examined in its own chapter (“Jude oder Österreicher”) and ofers some interesting insights into the connection between his self-identity and his political leanings, such as when he notes that calling the Jews a “race” is tantamount to accepting Nazi terminology. In the portrayal of Weigel’s childhood, his ambivalent relationship to this identity and his rejection of its religious component make clear that his relections on Jewishness ater 1945 had their roots much earlier in his life. Weigel’s love for theater and music as a young man came together in his work for the Viennese cabaret in the 1930s, for which he coauthored skits with Jura Soyfer, among others. hat this work had a lasting inluence on him is evident in the acerbic and wity style of his later cultural criticism, as seen in his proposal for two new organizations: the Verein zur Abwehr der Überschätzung des Autors Hugo von Hofmannsthal and the Internationale Gilde zur Beschleunigung der Abwertung des Dramatikers G. B. Shaw. While he was active in the cabaret scene, Weigel also tried to implement an ambitious plan to reverse the demise of the opereta form by translating popular French musicals into German, a plan interrupted by the Anschluss. Such grandiose plans continued during his years of exile in Switzerland, however, where he proposed no- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 182 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 thing less than a complete reorganization of Austrian literature ater the war, emphasizing assistance for young authors, something he actually implemented ater his return to Austria in July of 1945. Although he relies greatly on Weigel’s own statements about his life and work, Greinert also productively utilizes the great mass of unpublished materials in Weigel’s Nachlass at the Wienbibliothek. However, his citations from the Nachlass are oten given without box or folder number, making the references less than useful for research. As with any biography there are oten lacunae both great and small that confront the reader, and this book is no exception. For example, the author almost entirely ignores Weigel’s years as a radio personality with the Rot-Weiß-Rot network, where his shows Apropos Musik and In den Wind gesprochen (commentary on current issues) were among the most popular series between 1951 and 1954. And when discussing Weigel’s political views in the early Cold War years, the book only peripherally touches on his extensive cooperation with the Congress for Cultural Freedom in the 1950s, such as his co-founding of the Gesellschat für die Freiheit der Kultur in 1951. Despite these laws, however, this volume serves as a valuable primer on the phenomenon that was Hans Weigel. Joseph McVeigh Smith College Joseph McVeigh, Ingeborg Bachmanns Wien. Berlin: Insel Verlag, 2016. 316 pp. In her writing and in interviews, Ingeborg Bachmann repeatedly highlighted the importance that the city of Vienna had for her life and work. In her 1952 essay Biographisches, Bachmann wrote how she arrived in Vienna (in 1946) “voll Ungeduld und Erwartung,” drawing on classic conceptions of province and metropolis to describe her dreams as a young girl of studying philosophy in the Austrian capital. In later years, this positive image of Vienna would be transformed into an ambivalent “Haßliebe” (170). he centrality of Vienna for Bachmann’s development as a writer has repeatedly been emphasized by scholars and critics (see Gerda Haller and Robert Pichl), not to mention Bachmann’s contemporaries (for example, Hans Weigel and homas Bernhard) and inds its expression in her later Todesarten project, most notably in her novel Malina (1971), with its sublimation of Vienna’s third district into the mythical realm of the Ungargassenland. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 183 he aim of Ingeborg Bachmanns Wien is to illuminate a period in Bachmann’s life that, according to the author, remains “lückenhat und—daher einhergehend—von Mythen umrankt” (7). For this purpose McVeigh draws on leters Bachmann wrote to her mentor and lover Hans Weigel; correspondence with less-known contemporaries and mentors, such as the journalist Elisabeth “Bobbie” Löcker, theater critic Siegfried Melchinger and the psychologist Viktor Frankl; and texts that Bachmann wrote for Viennese periodicals. Several of these publications, such as a report on the inancial hardship of Viennese students for a publication entitled Der Optimist (1948), and short stories published in the Wiener Tageszeitung, are included in the appendix to the volume. Ingeborg Bachmanns Wien builds on McVeigh’s work on Bachmann’s manuscripts for the radio program Die Radiofamilie (broadcast by the occupation-era American broadcaster Rot-Weiß-Rot), edited and published by McVeigh in 2011. he monograph also comes in the wake of the publication of Andrea Stoll’s Bachmann biography Der dunkle Glanz der Freiheit (2013) and, less recently, Sigrid Weigel’s portrait of the author’s intellectual life and correspondence (1999), and the biographical portraits by Hans Höller (1999) and Joachim Hoell (2001). While all of these monographs certainly treat Bachmann’s Vienna years—and the biographical details of studies at the University of Vienna, literary involvement in the Café Raimund circle, and relationships with Celan and Weigel will be familiar to Bachmann readers— McVeigh’s volume is unique in focusing exclusively on the delimited period 1946–1953 and its importance for the writer’s subsequent development, enhancing the biographical framework outlined above with new details. Bachmann’s experiences in Vienna are set against the socio-historical context of postwar Austria, including its economic privations and emergence as a country at the center of the new Cold War order. he material conditions underpinning Bachmann’s studies and literary activities in Vienna are given much atention in McVeigh’s book. McVeigh argues that up until 1951 Bachmann did not seriously consider writing as a career, hoping instead to secure an academic post, and that it is likely that she regarded her freelance journalism and publishing activities as “Nebentätigkeiten” (74). McVeigh asserts that it is through her work for the American News Service and the US broadcaster Rot-Weiß-Rot, between 1951 and 1953, that Bachmann was able to achieve a degree of inancial security that allowed her to devote more time to her creative writing, while at the same time learning “wie man publikums- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 184 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 wirksam schreibt” (83). Although it is undoubtedly the case that Bachmann, like many young people of her age, was weighing up various career options in her early twenties, that she chose to earn a living through journalism and publishing from the start of her time in Vienna is symptomatic of her irm commitment to writing. It cannot merely be dismissed as a “Nebentätigkeit.” Drawing on Bachmann’s leters to Hans Weigel, McVeigh portrays how Bachmann’s ideas regarding gender relations during this period were very much of their time, and how she entertained hopes for a traditional, bourgeois marriage with Weigel. Of particular interest is a chapter on Bachmann’s political involvement that challenges the idea that Bachmann was largely apolitical during her time in Vienna. McVeigh traces how her work for the USowned broadcaster Rot-Weiß-Rot meant that Bachmann positioned herself as supporting the views of her employer (which, as McVeigh argues, were not antipathetic to Bachmann) in the Cold War climate of the time, a political positioning that she, however, later downplayed. he volume is structured thematically, with each chapter dealing, for example, with Bachmann’s studies at the University of Vienna, her work as a journalist, her romantic relationships, or her political activities. his makes for more interesting reading than a chronological ordering would have aforded, but it does mean that there is some repetition in the cross-references between the chapters and that crucial details are not developed in the section that the reader expects. For example, a reference to Paul Celan taking up “einen Großteil ihrer Zeit und Aufmerksamkeit” (109), in a chapter on Bachmann’s literary activities, is not developed further in the section. McVeigh’s biography of Bachmann’s Vienna years ofers a portrait of what were undoubtedly Bachmann’s formative years, her “Kapital” as a writer (223). While readers may occasionally disagree with the biographical conclusions drawn by McVeigh, the monograph, in its use of new archival material, certainly serves to illuminate both the life of one of Austria’s foremost postwar writers and the socio-political and cultural climate of postwar Vienna as a whole. It will be of interest both to Bachmann scholars and general readers alike. Katya Krylova King’s College London Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 185 Martina Wörgöter, Poetik und Linguistik: Die literarische Sprache Mariehérèse Kerschbaumer. Freiburg: Rombach, 2016. 445 pp. Shaped by her transcultural background, her childhood in Tyrol, her linguistics studies in Vienna, and her association with the Austrian avant-garde, novelist and poet Marie-hérèse Kerschbaumer (*1936) is positioned between diferent cultural traditions and languages and between generations and age cohorts. he struggles of older intellectuals trying to establish themselves within the postwar and post-Shoah world afected her, as did the increasingly critical oppositional literature by the descendants of the perpetrator collective, including Ingeborg Bachmann, and the language criticism of avant-garde authors born in the 1930s and 1940s, and, conversely, the works of survivors and children of survivors—Ilse Aichinger, Paul Celan, Jakov Lind, and Erich Fried. Kerschbaumer was a member of the age cohort born in the 1930s. She was inluenced by the abstract experimentalism of the Vienna Group, the exploration of the fascist legacy by homas Bernhard, and the writings about the survivor experience by Albert Drach, Jakov Lind, and Robert Schindel. Kerschbaumer’s most acclaimed work is her (from a historical perspective) most distinctly contextualized prose work, Der weibliche Name des Widerstands, which explores in several thematically linked narratives the victimization of women under the Nazi regime. Martina Wörgöter examines Kerschbaumer’s work with the tools of poetics, rhetoric, and linguistics. Kerschbaumer, who was born in France to a Cuban father and an Austrian mother, had been exposed to Romance languages early in life. At the University of Vienna she studied linguistics, specializing in the Romanian language. Wörgöter argues that an individualistic theoretical program designed to analyze the structural and communicative aspects of language constitutes the basis for Kerschbaumer’s literary production. he twenty-seven textual analyses in the study at hand reveal that Kerschbaumer’s work, far from being composed of a multitude of disparate techniques, is based on a consistent repertoire of forms. Wörgöter identiies and traces strategies and elements in Kerschbaumer’s prose and argues that they are intended to uncover the capabilities and boundaries of literary language. In the process, the self-referentiality of Kerschbaumer’s prose becomes obvious, which makes it, according to Wörgöter, a paradigmatic site of the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 186 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 “funktionelle Vollkommenheit der Sprache” (417). Discounting occasional conceptual vague argumentation, avoidance of the semantic level, and weaknesses in the historical framing, Wörgöter’s approach to Kerschbaumer is insightful and informative. Issues that remain unaddressed or under-discussed include Wörgöter’s use of the concept “language crisis,” which is a constant theme in the debates about modern Austrian literature since Hofmannstahl’s Chandos leter. Kerschbaumer’s age cohort can be assumed to have experienced several historically speciic language crises. Aware of Hofmannsthal’s language experience, they were afected by the postwar dilemma framed as Kahlschlag or Stunde Null by the Group 47, in which also Austrian authors participated, and the language and cultural crisis ater the Holocaust, which was debated under the auspices of Adorno’s dictum on the impossibility of writing poetry ater Auschwitz. As Dan Diner maintained, the Shoah produced distinct sets of memory discourses among victims and perpetrators, and discourse analysts and literary theorists such as Ruth Wodak and Andrea Reiter have provided further insight into divergent identity and memory models informing narratives. Positioning Kerschbaumer within the panorama of her period would have helped to provide access to two important questions that Wörgöter does not raise: What was Kerschbaumer’s motivation for developing her particular “experimental” style, and into which post-1945 tradition did she inscribe herself? A comparative approach making the intercultural and interlingual perspectives of her work explicit, above and beyond the painstaking descriptions of narrative practices, might lead to a deeper analysis of this author-linguist’s oeuvre, which, as Wörgöter notes, also has a socially critical trajectory. Perhaps a comprehensive discussion (instead of the chronological, text-by-text arrangement) would have avoided redundancies and provided room for the elaboration of important issues to which Poetik und Linguistik only alludes. For example, Wörgöter suggests that Kerschbaumer’s prose exceeds the formalist abstraction characteristic of the Vienna Group or Concrete Poetry, but she stops short at articulating precisely in which way Kerschbaumer’s work difers. Similarly, the cursory remarks on the categories of “feminism” and “écriture feminine” lack speciicity. his kind of disconnectedness poses problems throughout the study, the appeal of which, as it stands, will be most Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 187 likely limited to Kerschbaumer fans, poetics bufs, and Jakobsonian linguists, while a more encompassing Kerschbaumer study would have the potential of resonating in the international arena. Wörgöter is aware of the dilemma posed by disciplinary constrictions, and she issues a plea for interdisciplinary work between linguistics and literary studies (418). Poetik und Linguistik proceeds from general observations that establish the study’s methodological basis to the theoretical contextualization of Kerschbaumer’s writing, and from there to the level of text analysis and the application of the theoretical tools. Kerschbaumer’s work is examined with conceptual devices that include language experiment, language criticism, and social criticism. he rubric of “microstructures” includes the sentence, the word, and the code, with syntax, vocabulary, codes, and “Fremdsprachenexperiement” as subordinate categories. Textual examples are introduced to elucidate the function of these elements in Kerschbaumer; for example, prototypical for Der Schwimmer is the “lowing” syntax, but the “lexible” syntax is paradigmatic of Gespräche in Tuskulum. Another major segment examines “macrostructures”—textual grammar, text theme, and intertextuality. Wörgöter’s discussions on this level are perceptive and validate her methodology. Modiied and ine-tuned, her approach could be successfully applied to authors such as Bernhard or Jelinek, especially if the structurally descriptive aspects were complemented by a compelling interpretative efort. he analytical process outlined in Poetik und Linguistik brings to light poetological and stylistic correspondences as well as disparities between Kerschbaumer’s writings of diferent creative periods. In her exploration of linguistic elements and units Wörgöter documents the poeticity of Kerschbaumer’s literary practice and a consistency of her narrative elements. Wörgöter also reveals how meticulously Kerschbaumer constructed her texts in keeping with her project of developing a poetic method and style for each particular narrative content (416). he study at hand makes an important contribution to a beter understanding of Kerschbaumer’s narratives and offers a solid foundation for more broadly conceived interpretations. Dagmar C. G. Lorenz University of Illinois at Chicago Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 188 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 Johannes Feichtinger and Heidemarie Uhl, eds., Habsburg Neu Denken: Vielfalt und Ambivalenz in Zentraleuropa—30 Kulturwissenschatliche Stichworte. Vienna: Böhlau, 2016. 261 pp. Habsburg Neu Denken presents a collection of thirty short essays, contributed by thirty-four scholars broadly identiied as Kulturwissenschatler, each of which is conceived as a sort of Denkanstoß designed around a Stichwort relating to Habsburg Central Europe. hey are organized alphabetically rather than by chronology or context, lending the entire volume a holistic character underscored by the manifold interconnections among its individual components. he volume generally revolves around themes of “Vielfalt und Ambivalenz” and, despite its kulturwissenschatliche focus, the individual contributions draw on a broad range of developments in the humanities and social sciences of recent years, demonstrating the manifest inter- or multidisciplinarity of the Habsburg ield. his volume, which alongside a wealth of intellectual inluences draws notably and explicitly on the work of Moritz Csáky, is not only eminently readable for specialists and laypersons alike, it moreover highlights the remarkably fecund character of Habsburg Central Europe “als heterogener, plurikultureller Raum” and as a “Laboratorium” of “soziale und kulturelle Prozesse” (9). Both the individual contributions and the volume taken as a whole open a myriad of new points of departure into this already much-traversed ield of study, inally foregrounding its profound relevance for highly topical and contested political developments in presentday Europe. For brevity’s sake I will address only some of the contributions, especially those that I feel to be the most innovative and those exhibiting a high degree of synergy with each other. he most intellectually novel contributions introduce concepts to the study of Central Europe on the basis of analytical developments from across the range of human and social sciences of recent years. Anil Bhati, drawing on his own Indian cultural background, expounds “Plurikulturalität” vis-à-vis multiculturalism, the later connoting simply the coexistence of diverse and separate groups, however deined, while the former speaks to the patchwork of interconnections and consequently the hybridity of diverse elements in complex societies. his is convincingly modeled as one of the most idiosyncratic facets of Central European cultures, informing moreover the signiicance of their study for present political society in Europe. In this context, Pieter Judson introduces “national indiference” as a new framework within the Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 189 well-established study of nationalist discourses as a means to “de-pathologize Central Europe,” to place identity discourses into their more nuanced contexts, and thereby to “return it [Central Europe] to a comparative European context” (148). Numerous contributions address such analytical developments, which moreover profoundly inform the present-day political realities of the region. Wolfgang Göderle shows that while many studies have focused on “migration” as the central driving force of cultural, social, and political developments in Central Europe, few have paid atention to the methods by which knowledge of migration was produced in the irst place, an issue of central importance considering that many of these methods are still in use today. Simon Hadler explores the function of “Feindschaten” in historic socio-cultural frameworks, ofering inally an analysis of the development of the image of the “Türke” in Austria through modernity and into the present day. his trope resonates in numerous contributions to this volume. Of equal political signiicance, Reinhard Johler examines “Vielfalt” in the Habsburg Empire as a microcosm of Europe, both in contemporary propaganda as well as in historical fact, thereby demonstrating the lessons that the Habsburg context may hold for the future direction of the European Union. Some contributions explore particular eras of Central European history for their enduring signiicance in the Central European political landscape. Werner Telesko expounds on the “Barock” as a curious “Projektionsläche [ . . . ] des vermeintlich Österreichischen” through the nineteenth century (31), while Peter Stachel explores the divergent and highly politicized collective memories of the 1848 revolutions in a comparative perspective across various successor states to the Habsburg Empire. Waltraud Heindl demonstrates that “Josephinismus” as a form of governance not only describes the speciicity of the Austrian Enlightenment but moreover survives in various forms in the political system of modern Austria. In the thematically (and alphabetically) inal essay, Helmut Konrad examines “Zerfall” counterintuitively as the era in which most of what is today regarded as quintessentially “Habsburg” Central Europe irst emerged. he contributions I found especially relevant for European political society in 2016 ofered discursive analyses of topoi, both historical and contemporary, with deep ramiications in the present. Franz Fillafer analyzes “Österreichislam” and the historical legal framework surrounding the treatment of Muslims in Austria, thereby ofering, to my mind at least, an incentive to Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 190 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 further explore the parallelisms between this case and the legal history of Jews and other marginalized communities in Central Europe and their application to political society in the present. In a related essay, Johan Heiss examines the notion of the “Christliches Abendland” from the Crusades through to PEGIDA, with further related topics being explored in the contributions by Andrei Corbea-Hoisie (“Halb-Asien”), Andre Gingrich (“Orientalismus”), and Jan Surman (“Postkolonialismus”). Christian Peer, inally, reconceives the charged term integration as a process that is both all-encompassing in society and necessarily ever-evolving or incomplete, involving as it does the “Herstellung oder Erneuerung eines imaginierten Ganzen” (89). It is hardly possible to do this work justice in such a short summary, though it speaks to the quality of this volume that it was itself able to address such a breadth of innovative scholarship and politically pertinent topoi succinctly but meaningfully in only 260 pages. It is one of those rare works that is enjoyable, thought-provoking, and opinion-shaping not only for scholars of Habsburg Central Europe but also for a broader readership interested in “pluriculturalism” and all the problems and promises it entails, whether past or present, in Europe or elsewhere. It has thus not only demonstrated the continuing fecundity of the ield but even succeeded in opening entirely new avenues of inquiry in an already convoluted area of scholarly and popular interest. Tim Corbet Center for Jewish History, New York Matej Santi, Zwischen drei Kulturen: Musik und Nationalitätsbildung in Triest. Studien zur Kultur, Geschichte und heorie der Musik. Veröfentlichungen des Instituts für Analyse, heorie und Geschichte der Musik an der Universität für Musik und darstellende Kunst Wien 9. Vienna: Hollitzer, 2015. 230 pp. his unique book covering the lourishing life of musical performance and its key nationalistic implications in Trieste throughout the second half of the nineteenth century and into the irst two decades of the twentieth is singularly enriched by the author’s luency in the three languages—Italian, Slovene, and German—of this, the largest sea harbor of the Austrian-Hungarian monarchy. It also beneits from Santi’s deep musicological knowledge, which allows Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 191 him to appraise the musical scores and the many journalistic sources under discussion. Santi’s graceful translations from the Italian and the Slovene into German make the book all the more seamlessly accessible for the Germanlanguage reader. Upon opening and closing the tome, one is greeted by a vibrantly colored two-page map of 1850 focusing on the proximity of the three cultural venues featured in the study: the Teatro Verdi, standing across from the German-language Schiller Verein on the Piazza Grande, and just three avenues away, the site where the Narodni dom (the Slovene National Hall) was built between 1901 and 1904. he clear structure of the book begins with Santi’s lucidly writen forty-page introduction covering his critical methodology of analyzing contemporary nineteenth- and early twentieth-century journalistic articles that trace the simultaneous growth of the performing musical arts in the most prosperous Austrian-Hungarian seaport. he three major chapter blocks that follow, each between 40 and 60 pages, trace respectively the signiicant role of Italian opera in the city’s cultural life, the growing Slovene cultural presence in Trieste’s city center, and the German-language musical dominance through the relatively long-lasting Schiller Verein. Early on, Santi convincingly claims that the contemporary journalistic articles found in Trieste’s magazines and newspapers that reside at the heart of his research served a double function: On the one hand, they were centripetal in manifesting a growing conidence in music as innately nationalistic, if not chauvinistic, and on the other hand, they were centrifugal in convincing the entire community of Trieste of the intrinsic value of the given musical pieces and their performances. he irst chapter traces the dominance of Italian opera in Trieste from the late eighteenth century to the outbreak of World War I. Although Santi discusses the irst decades of the nineteenth-century operatic life and the myriad performances of the bel-canto opera, it is his thirty-page discussion of Giuseppe Verdi’s operas in Trieste that gives a sense of Verdi’s artistic and political importance to the growing tide of Risorgimento sentiment among the most populous segment of Trieste—the Italian-language community, numbering 65 percent of the city’s population in 1910. In particular, there are three areas of Santi’s Verdi discussion that are most convincing: the continually central Verdi operatic productions that served as a successful repertory lynchpin; the changing of the name of the Teatro Communale to the Teatro Verdi in 1901, Verdi’s death year; and the erection of the Giuseppe Verdi statue in 1906. One major plus of this edition is the manifold visuals contained amidst the pages Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 192 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 of verbal narrative: they include a page-long program cast listing of the starstudded memorial concert for Verdi, the vocal portion of which began with his stirring nationalistic chorus of “Va pensiero” from Nabucco. Although Verdi enjoyed two premieres of earlier operas in Trieste, it was the major commitment of the opera house to his later mature operas that made him the most important of the three Risorgimento Giuseppes: unlike Garibaldi and Mazzini, the regular performances of his works themselves, with their social and psychological immediacy, manifested the composer’s undying commitment to a united Italy. Santi’s focus on the Narodni dom (the Slovene Town Hall) as the cultural central gathering place for Trieste’s Slavic citizenry, which comprised one quarter of Trieste’s population at the turn of the twentieth century, makes sense. his building destroyed by the Italian Fascists in 1920 when Trieste was handed over to Italy ater World War I for ighting on the side of the Allied Powers had contained libraries and meeting and concert halls alongside a bank, several eateries, among other commercial establishments. In sum, it served as the heart of Trieste’s Slovene culture and commerce. Santi’s atention to the following areas will make his book a primarysource German-language study of Slovene music in Trieste until World War I: his detailed biographical accounts of the leading Trieste-based Slovene composers and music pedagogues; his emphasis on the variety of musical performances performed not only in the Narodni dom but at other locations; and the way in which the Trieste classical music scene dovetailed with the main source of Slovene music performance emanating from the largest Slovene cultural center, Ljubljana. Also Santi’s detailed atention to the printed scores of Slovene musical composition (most of them vocal in nature) traces the ever-growing musical national art form—beginning with the song and growing into longer forms of composition. hat the musical center of the Town Hall served also as a magnet of the performances by other Slavonic musicians (such as Czechs and Croats) and that it had atracted performances of such pieces as Tchaikovsky and Dvořák symphonies atest to the importance of the hall in establishing Slavic pride in the international seaport. he inal chapter’s discussion of the long-lasting German-speaking Schiller Verein, founded in 1860, is particularly helpful in Santi’s discussion of its name, its elaborate musical repertoire, and Hungarian-born, Viennaeducated Julius Heller (1839–1902), a one-man dynamo who combined the roles of conductor, solo violinist, and chamber-music performer: For deca- Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 193 des he remained the prime mover of the association. Heller’s goal, which he realized, was to found a Trieste-based musical organization not unlike Vienna’s Gesellschat der Musikfreunde. Friedrich Schiller, the most idealistic of German-language eighteenth-century imaginative writers was chosen as the eponymous thinker relecting the cultural ambitions of the organization. he longer oratorios performed at the Schiller Verein, including Mendelssohn’s St. Paulus and Haydn’s Die Schöpfung, reveal the ambitious programming of the music society and its preference for German-language musical oferings. he musical importance of the German-language society, though German was spoken by the smallest of Trieste’s three language populations, relected the Habsburg monarchy and its oicial political and cultural language. When this invaluable study goes to press in its second edition, it would be advisable to add a feature: An index of names and places in the back of the book would make it easier to navigate the volume. Steven R. Cerf Bowdoin College Christine Lavant, Aufzeichnungen aus dem Irrenhaus. A new edition with an Aterword by Klaus Amann. Götingen: Wallstein, 2016. 140 pp. Twice the winner of the Georg Trakl Prize for poetry during her lifetime (in 1954 and 1964) as well as the recipient of the Großen Österreichischen Staatspreis in 1970, Christine Lavant (1915–1973) let behind a literary output of more than a thousand poems, a dozen works of short prose, and two thousand leters. She was born into a large impoverished family in the Carinthian mountains of Austria, the ninth ofspring of a coal miner. Later in life she replaced the family name honhauser with Lavant—the name of a river lowing through the valley where she was born—perhaps as a reminder of the more pleasant memories of her childhood. Because of her poor health she was forced to drop out of school at an early age. From her leters, we know that she wrote her irst autobiographical pieces of prose shortly ater the end of World War II, in jubilation—Klaus Amann, editor of this volume, surmises—at the opportunity to escape the chaos of the war and Nazi oppression and to focus on her troubled youth in writen form as a kind of “Heimkehr zu den Anfängen” (108). Das Krüglein, Das Kind, and Aufzeichnungen aus dem Irrenhaus all spring directly from this past. he Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 194 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 irst of these, a work she herself called “ein erzähltes Stück Leben” (101), depicts the family life into which she was born in 1915. In Das Kind she recalls her irst extended absence from home at the age of nine at the hospital in Klagenfurt where her imperiled eyesight was saved. hen in 1935, ater an unsuccessful atempt to take her own life, she spent another six weeks in the state asylum at the same hospital, an episode of her life she depicts in Aufzeichnungen. Stylistically writen as a diary, this story remained unpublished during her lifetime, although her friend, the Austrian-British writer and translator Nora Purtscher, managed to have an English translation—Asylum Diary— broadcast by the BBC on November 10, 1959. Purtscher succeeded in the venture in spite of Lavant’s last-minute hesitancy in releasing her heavily autobiographical story into the public domain. It only belatedly appeared in print in the original German for the irst time by the Oto Müller Verlag in 2001. “Ich bin auf Abteilung Zwei,” begin Lavant’s notes recording her arrival and medical placement in the asylum. Immediately she describes the irst of numerous controversies that suddenly arose during her two weeks there, some between patients, others involving patients, medical personnel, or caretakers. Lavant’s very presence in this unit for less serious cases arouses resentment in one igure labeled “die Königin” (7), who views her as a possible spy; that is, she inds it highly suspicious that a new member of the asylum community would begin her stay in unit two and not have irst “earned” her way out of unit three, which is reserved for the more seriously impaired. Another patient, Renate, voices her disgust with the content and tone of the “Queen’s” words, a reaction that encourages Lavant to develop closer ties of afection to Renate throughout the narrative. She repeatedly demonstrates a need for such reactions from her and other sympathetic asylum inhabitants, yet resists voicing harsh judgments about even the most problematic or revolting igures around her. Her leters, Amann notes, are illed with expressions of this fundamental craving for atention and love (107). Characters on the loor of the asylum randomly catch the focus of the diarist’s atention, igures that she encounters in the rooms, halls, and toilets accessible to all inhabitants. Initially, the majority are very generally identiiable as fellow inmates or nursing staf by their names, actions, and language. he narrator sketches short scenes based on her perceptions—one following the other—in the order in which they occur. Oten the allusion to another igure, a fall, the shouted threat of a straitjacket or an outburst of poetic lines or obscenities will be the only indicator that the scene is changing. his new Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 195 “event” is recorded, and the narrative lows forward, sustaining the suggestion of the “Gegenwärtigkeit von Wahrnehmung und Schreibvorgang” (116). he diarist makes litle atempt to bridge the transition and build the constructed world of a iction writer. Yet evidence of her own internal fears and desires communicate to the reader her human presence and empathy for the others populating the micro-world in which she lives. Ater six weeks of residence in this asylum, Lavant is dismissed back into the larger world that was—in Lavant’s real life in the thirties—increasingly the scene of National Socialism’s pathologically cruel actions. Amann gives a short history of the trial of Nazi personnel involved in the euthanasia of 1,500 mental patients in the last days of the war in Austria, including iteen who resided in the same hospital unit where Lavant had spent several weeks eleven years earlier. Amann suspects that this trial may have been the trigger for her belated diary about her own experiences there. he editor has done a superb job with Lavant’s text as well as his own multifaceted aterword that discusses, among numerous other topics, Lavant’s relationship with homas Bernhard during the postwar years. hey exchanged leters, and he found her both “gescheit und durchtrieben” and even published a selection of her poems in the Bibliothek Suhrkamp in 1987, fourteen years ater her death. At the present time, more than one hundred years ater her birth, scholars interested in the larger picture of the postwar Austrian literary scene have much to look forward to with the ongoing publication of Lavant’s collected works by the Wallstein Verlag. Francis Michael Sharp University of the Paciic Hermine Witgenstein, Familienerinnerung. Edited by Ilse Somavilla. Innsbruck: Haymon, 2015. 552 pp. Discussion and criticism of most cultural igures generally proceed along setled lines of debate, so that in assessing the recent upsurge of interest in Stefan Zweig, for example, it isn’t necessary to reinvent the wheel. Readers are able to negotiate fairly clear parameters of evaluation. Established categories of discourse do not preclude revisionist views, of course, but even revisionists set out along the usual approach routes. In some cases, however, commentators are uncertain or even bewildered. W. G. Sebald pointed out more than Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association 196 | JOURNAL OF AUSTRIAN STUDIES 50:1–2 once, for example, that critics simply do not know what to say about Peter Handke: “An wenigen Beispielen ist das Missverhältnis zwischen Kultur und Kulturbetrieb deutlicher geworden als an dem Peter Handkes” (Unheimliche Heimat: Essays zur österreichischen Literatur, 162). Or in the case of H. C. Artmann, Waltraut Schwarz points out in the new Bio-Bibliographisches Lexikon der Literatur Österreichs that almost all commentators agree that his dizzying plenitude is held together by a glue that uniies the whole oeuvre but that no one can say what this glue is made of (1:227). Ludwig Witgenstein its this later category of a cultural phenomenon, a protean creator whom no one quite knows how to fathom. It would be overstating the mater to say that there needs to be a uniied ield theory reconciling all aspects of Witgenstein’s activity—he might well rank, along with Goethe, as one of the very last universal geniuses—but discussions of him could end up reminding us of the proverbial group of blind men who visit the circus to ind out what the elephant is like. One feels the tail, another the trunk, the third a leg, the fourth an ear, each coming away certain that he alone has the one true understanding of the animal. Logical positivists and structuralists decry any resort to biography, for instance, but in excluding it they miss the purport of the famous last proposition in the Tractatus, which not only allows but encourages a mysticism that discursive language cannot enter but poetry can. If the extreme formalists stopped to study Witgenstein’s relations to Trakl, they would have to start operating from diferent presuppositions. Reversing the token, scholars of literature are eager to rush in and “explain” what Witgenstein’s philosophy “really” means in light of literary categories oten unsupported by training in linguistics. A justiiable interest by queer theorists has been pointedly ignored so far, and while any ideologically based method is bound to be limited, what is one to make of Witgenstein’s declaration, when asked whom he would like to meet in the United States, that he wanted to be introduced to Bety Huton and Carmen Miranda, two gay icons? (Best not to ask any members of his family about this.) Nor have we even touched on Witgenstein’s competencies in engineering, architecture, mathematics, music, and other areas without an understanding in which we are likely to become as falsely self-certain as one of those blind men. hese thoughts emerge from the appearance of the book now under review. Equipped by the editor with a foreword, a bibliography, an aterword, Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Reviews | 197 an admirably thorough commentary (323–477) that provides information on persons, places, and events mentioned in Hermine Witgenstein’s memoirs; and an editorial note on provenance (529–533), the volume is manifestly laying claim to scholarly status. Even so, it is published not as a work of research but as Belletristik, a category that in Europe accommodates autobiography and memoir. he decision on the publisher’s part seems fair, since the supplements by Somavilla, conscientious and thoroughgoing as they are, function more as background information and orienting apparatus than as part of a critical/scholarly project. he editor is clearly caught betwixt and between, giving her very best to her task but performing that task, perhaps in cooperation with the family, under such limits as do not allow for, and perhaps never even intend, an inquiry into the content of the memoirs themselves. he purpose of the present volume appears to be mainly to make an edition available to the public, a general public at that, a readership it would not be appropriate to tax with second-guessing but that requires the help of an apparatus. For a thorough examination of Hermine Witgenstein’s text itself, it is necessary to turn to Nicole L. Immler’s Schweigen im Familiengedächtnis: Zur nicht-motivischen Tradierung familiärer Codes in Hermine Witgenstein’s Familienerinnerungen (2013). here the context comes alive: Much of what Hermine Witgenstein’s memoirs contain would have gone lost for a generation that had been through one of the most violent upheavals in history and needed to have memory preserved; it was not the role of the family doyenne, who saw herself as an agent of balance and harmony, to air family secrets and reveal information that the father had refused to allow ever even to be mentioned. he 1947–49 period, the years of Hermine’s composition, were hardly an optimal time anyway for analyzing the suicides, breakdowns, and calamities in a family that was still emerging from trauma; above all, we cannot ask of any text to give us what we think it should but can only take it on its own terms. But when we do, we see, guided by Immler, the omissions, gaps, and blind spots. It is not Somavilla’s task to do the same, and she can be thanked for providing a well annotated but distinctly not critical edition of Hermine Witgenstein’s memoirs. Vincent Kling La Salle University Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Women & Music is available online through Project MUSE which offers free access via library subscriptions and payper-view options for those without library connections. Read it at http://bit.ly/WAM_MUSE An annual journal of scholarship about women, music, and culture. Drawing on a wide range of disciplines and approaches, this refereed journal seeks to further the understanding of the relationships among gender, music, and culture, with special attention being given to the concerns of women. For subscriptions or back issues, visit nebraskapress.unl.edu or call 402-472-8536 Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association Women in German Yearbook is available online through Project MUSE and JSTOR Current Scholarship. Both offer free access via library subscriptions and payper-view options for those without library connections. Read it at: bit.ly/WIGY_MUSE or bit. ly/WIGY_JSTOR. Women in German Yearbook presents a wide range of feminist approaches to all aspects of German literature, culture, and language, including pedagogy. Relecting the interdisciplinary perspectives that inform feminist German studies, each issue contains critical inquiries employing gender and other analytical categories to examine the work, history, life, literature, and arts of the German-speaking world. It is the oicial journal of the Coalition of Women in German. Members receive the journal as a beneit of membership. For more information, visit womeningerman.org. For subscriptions or back issues: nebraskapress.unl.edu or 402-472-8536 Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association If you are looking for a new publishing partner for an existing journal or if you need a publisher to help you launch a new RQH¿QGRXWZK\WKHVHMRXUQDOVUHFHQWO\ chose the University of Nebraska Press. Visit www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/pages/ Journals_WhyPublish.aspx. to start the conversation. Copyright © 2018 Austrian Studies Association