Download PDF One More Story, by Ingo Schulze
Yeah, checking out a publication One More Story, By Ingo Schulze can include your friends lists. This is one of the solutions for you to be successful. As understood, success does not suggest that you have great things. Comprehending and knowing more compared to other will give each success. Next to, the notification as well as perception of this One More Story, By Ingo Schulze could be taken and selected to act.
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze
Download PDF One More Story, by Ingo Schulze
Just for you today! Discover your preferred book right here by downloading as well as getting the soft file of guide One More Story, By Ingo Schulze This is not your time to generally visit the publication shops to purchase an e-book. Here, varieties of e-book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze and collections are available to download and install. Among them is this One More Story, By Ingo Schulze as your preferred e-book. Obtaining this e-book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze by online in this site can be understood now by going to the link page to download. It will certainly be very easy. Why should be right here?
The perks to take for reading the books One More Story, By Ingo Schulze are concerning boost your life quality. The life quality will certainly not simply regarding just how much knowledge you will acquire. Even you review the fun or enjoyable books, it will certainly help you to have boosting life high quality. Feeling fun will certainly lead you to do something perfectly. Furthermore, guide One More Story, By Ingo Schulze will certainly give you the session to take as a great need to do something. You could not be worthless when reviewing this e-book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze
Never ever mind if you don't have enough time to go to guide store as well as hunt for the favourite e-book to review. Nowadays, the online publication One More Story, By Ingo Schulze is pertaining to provide convenience of reviewing habit. You may not should go outdoors to browse the book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze Searching as well as downloading the book qualify One More Story, By Ingo Schulze in this post will certainly provide you much better remedy. Yeah, on the internet book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze is a sort of digital publication that you could enter the link download given.
Why need to be this on-line publication One More Story, By Ingo Schulze You might not should go somewhere to read the publications. You can read this e-book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze each time and also every where you want. Also it remains in our extra time or sensation tired of the tasks in the workplace, this corrects for you. Obtain this One More Story, By Ingo Schulze today and be the quickest individual that finishes reading this e-book One More Story, By Ingo Schulze
“A literary event” (Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung): thirteen new stories from one of Germany’s finest writers.
New Year’s Eve 1999, Berlin. At a party to kick off the twenty-first century, Frank Reichert meets Julia, his lost love. Since their separation in the fall of 1989, he’s drifted through life like an exile, remaining apathetic toward the copy-shop business he started even as it flourishes apace. Nothing has the power to move him now: his whole life lies under the shadow of Julia, of the idea that things could have worked out differently. But as night draws on to day, the promised end becomes an unexpected new beginning.
Ingo Schulze introduces us to characters as they stray outside the confines of East Germany into other, newer lives—into Egypt, where the betrayal of a lover turns an innocent vacation into a nightmare; into Vienna, where life starts to mimic art; into Estonia, where we meet a retired circus bear in an absurd (and absurdly hilarious) dilemma—or as they simply stay put, struggling to maintain their sense of themselves as the world around them changes.
Mixed in with these tragicomic tales are some of the most beautiful love stories ever to feature cell phones. And throughout, Schulze’s masterfully controlled style conceals an understated, but finally breathtaking, intricacy.
From the Hardcover edition.
- Sales Rank: #2325777 in eBooks
- Published on: 2010-03-18
- Released on: 2010-03-23
- Format: Kindle eBook
From Booklist
*Starred Review* The original German version of this fiction collection bore the title Handy: Thirteen Stories in the Time-Honored Mode, a reference to the prominent role of the cell phone (“das Handy” in colloquial German) in several of these short stories and a hint at the tension between old and new, which undergirds them all. As in his luminous novel New Lives (2008), Schulze introduces us to characters whose relationships have been complicated by the melting of all that may have once seemed solid in our increasingly capitalist world. “Calcutta” (its title an allusion to G�nter Grass’ Indian sojourn) probes the false intimacies of suburban neighborliness; in “Estonia, Out in the Country,” a former circus bear becomes a desperate economic opportunity; in “Faith, Love, Hope Number 23,” even love itself may be a trick played upon a young lawyer. Arguably the centerpiece, “New Year’s Eve Confusions” adeptly uses a man’s fantasies of romantic fulfillment with a long-ago lover to explore the emotional resonance of German reunification. An expert at subtly disorienting his audience, Schulze writes in a disarmingly simple style that gives the impression of openness and intimacy even as it reveals ugly fractures and unforeseen complications. --Brendan Driscoll
About the Author
Ingo Schulze was born in Dresden in 1962, studied classics at Jena University, and worked as a dramaturge and newspaper editor in Altenburg. For his first book, 33 Moments of Happiness (1995), he won various prizes, including the Aspekte Prize for Best Debut. In 1998 he won both the Berlin Literature Prize and the associated Johannes Bobrowski Medal for Simple Stories. In the same year, The New Yorker numbered him among the six best young European novelists, and the London Observer described him as one of the “twenty-one writers to look out for in the 21st century.” In 2005 his novel New Lives was honored with the Peter Weiss Prize and the Premio Grinzane Cavour. In 2007 he won the Leipzig Book Fair Prize for One More Story, his second collection of stories. He is a member of the Academy of the Arts in Berlin and the German Academy for Language and Literature. His books have been translated into more than thirty languages. He lives in Berlin with his wife, Natalia, and their two daughters, Clara and Franziska.
Excerpt. � Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Estonia, Out in the Country
During that week of September 2000 that Tanya and I spent in Tallinn and Tartu, I was called upon several times to write something about Estonia. In every case I explained that while I was honored by such requests, writing a short story is not a matter of choosing a country and a topic and simply taking off from there. I knew nothing about Estonia, and our experiences of regime change were scarcely comparable. But I was talking to a brick wall. After all, I had written thirty-three stories about St. Petersburg, so surely I could come up with one about Estonia.
For a story set in a foreign country, I said, one needs to sense a certain affinity, a kinship of soul with how things developed there. But the more emphatic my arguments, the more I rubbed my hosts the wrong way. They were too polite to tell me straight-out that they regarded such arguments as mere evasion.
I was a guest of the Writers Union and had been invited to K�smu, where the union has a guesthouse on the Baltic. K�smu, as my hosts never wearied of assuring me, was a very special place. It was not only a spot for total relaxation, but it also inspired one to work as never before. What we needed was a trip to K�smu.
I hope this introduction has not left the impression that we were treated inhospitably. On the contrary, ours was a royal reception. Never before had one of my readings been moderated by the chairman of a writers’ union. He greeted us like old friends and invited us to a caf� where we could make plans for the reading. On our way there, every few steps someone would block our path to shake the chairman’s hand, a steady stream of people rapped on the caf� window or stepped inside, until we could hardly exchange two connected sentences. When I inquired about the profession of a tall, handsome man who gave me a most cordial handshake and apologized for having to miss the reading that evening, the chairman said: That was the minister of culture. The minister’s wife—beautiful, young, clever, amiable—interviewed me for television. It was just that they had all studied in Tartu, she said, and were now all working in Tallinn. They couldn’t help knowing one another, right?
Tanya and I took our lunch and dinner in restaurants that were both upscale and empty, and despite a good number of beers we seldom paid more than twenty marks.
When we and a small group went looking for a restaurant after the reading, it was Tanya and I who could offer suggestions. My translator, on the other hand—who told us how she and the people of Tallinn, of the entire Baltic, had for so many years gathered to sing anthems in hope of independence—couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in a restaurant. She couldn’t imagine buying a book as expensive as mine—which converted at just short of seventeen marks.
Before I tell about our days in K�smu I want to mention another episode that has nothing to do with my story, really. Between a reading for students in the German Department of Tartu University and the public reading that same evening of the translated version of my book, some students invited Tanya and me for a walk through town. Toward the end of our little tour we passed a kiosk that offered the same beverages we have at home. There were two wooden benches out in front, and we invited the students to join us for a drink. Tanya said she was amazed at how everyone here roundly cursed the Russians but almost revered the Germans. Was that simply a matter of hospitality?
That had nothing to do with hospitality, it was simply how they felt, after all they were German majors. I was about to ask a question myself, when the youngest and loveliest of the female students, who until this point had only listened, exclaimed, “Why are you amazed? Germans have never harmed Estonians.”
“Well maybe not Estonians—” Tanya said.
“I know what you’re getting at,” the student interrupted.
“But surely you know that we Estonians had our own SS, and you only have to consider how many Estonians, how many people
from the Baltic in general, the Russians killed and deported even after the war. Only bad things have come from Russia, and mostly good things from the Germans—people can’t help noticing that.”
Tanya said that one cannot limit memory to a particular span of years or to a single nationality, and that after all it had been the Hitler-Stalin pact that had robbed them of their sovereignty.
“That’s true, of course it’s true,” the student said. “But why are you amazed?”
“Why aren’t you amazed!” Tanya blurted out. After that we returned to the university and exchanged addresses.
On the drive to K�smu in our rental car, Tanya asked me if she had come off as self-righteous. No, I said, just the opposite, but unfortunately I hadn’t been able to come up with anything better to say. Tanya said she couldn’t help being reminded of certain turns of phrase in those Estonian fairy tales we had been reading aloud to each other of an evening. Certain idioms kept popping up, like “She adorned herself in beautiful raiment, as if she were the proudest German child,” or “as happy as a pampered German child.”
We were looking forward to K�smu. We had read in our guidebook that Lahemaa, Land of Bays, lies about twenty-five miles to the east of Tallinn, is bounded by the Gulf of Finland and the Tallinn-Narva highway, encompasses an area of 250 square miles, and was declared a national park in 1971. The guidebook also noted several endangered species to be found there: brown bears, lynx, mink, sea eagles, cranes, Arctic loons, mute swans, and even black storks.
We reported in to Arne, a gangly man with medium long hair and a beret, who runs a kind of marine museum. He greeted Tanya and me with a handshake: a signal, he said, to his two dogs—setters—that we now belonged to the village. Before handing over the keys, he gave a brief lecture about the especially favorable magnetic field of K�smu. On the way to the guesthouse, however, Arne fell silent, as if to allow us to take in the view of tidy frame houses without any distraction and appreciate the peaceful setting to the full. The two setters bounded ahead of us, came back, circled us, and nudged against our knees.
When I think back on that week now, six years later, the first thing that comes to mind—quite apart from the incredible events I am about to recount—is the way the light turned every color brighter and paler at the same time.
The house had once belonged to Captain Christian Steen, who had been deported to Siberia in 1947 and has since been listed as missing. The entryway opened on a large, centrally located dining room, where, with one exception, we took all our meals alone at the huge table. At opposite ends of this space were the two guest rooms, and a third door led to the kitchen, which adjoined a winter garden. The dining room’s high windows looked directly out onto the sauna cabin and a mosscovered erratic deposited by the last ice age.
The finest quarters, the Epos Room, had been reserved for Tanya and me. The smaller Novel Room was unoccupied at first, while the two Novella Chambers under the roof were home to a married couple, both lyric poets. We, however, caught sight only of the wife, who, no sooner had she announced in English, “K�smu is good for work and good for holiday,” scurried off again as if not to waste one second of her precious K�smu sojourn.
K�smu has a narrow beach. You walk through the woods, and suddenly there is the sea. Or you stroll out on the pier in the little harbor to watch children fishing and let your fantasy run free as you gaze at derelict cutters scraping garlands of car tires strung along on the sides of the pier. The town is nothing spectacular, but lovely for that very reason. Somewhere there must be a depot for wooden pallets, because pallets lie about everywhere, and once they have been chopped into firewood by the villagers, are stacked along the sides of their houses. The one thing we had a knack for in K�smu was sleeping.
K�smu is worth a trip simply for its silence. As we sat in the winter garden in the evening—sipping tea, eating the wildberry marmalade we’d bought from an old local woman, listening to the sea and the birds—time seemed to stand still.
K�smu’s peace and quiet were only disrupted of a morning, by two or three buses that came lumbering down the village street to deposit school classes at Arne’s museum. The children stood staring in amazement at whalebones, shark teeth, ships in bottles, fishhooks, and postcards of lighthouses around the world. They would picnic on the lawn in front of the building, run out on the pier, and then be driven away again.
Tanya and I had tried to engage Arne in conversation and intended to invite him to dinner, but Arne resisted all contact with us. Even when we paid a second visit to his museum, he simply greeted us with a brief nod and then shuffled away.
On the third day—it had been drizzling since early morning—we watched from the window of our Epos Room as schoolchildren got off their buses, jiggled at Arne’s front door, circled the building, peered in from the veranda, until finally their teachers, equally perplexed and upset, rounded them up and herded them back onto the buses, where we could see them eating their picnic lunch. That evening when we returned from our excursion to the high marshy moorland, the note we had left for Arne asking him to heat the sauna was still wedged in his door. The sky was clear and promised a beautiful sunset.
The fourth day was cold and so gusty we could hear the sea even with the windows shut, and we stayed indoors. Tanya made tea and craw...
Most helpful customer reviews
See all customer reviews...One More Story, by Ingo Schulze PDF
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze EPub
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze Doc
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze iBooks
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze rtf
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze Mobipocket
One More Story, by Ingo Schulze Kindle
No comments:
Post a Comment