waltzing

There is a sense in which if we could see something from every angle we would attain universal humanity; on the other hand, such a thing may not be possible, or even desirable. We live in the arc of time and space that has been allotted to us. A self-contained life would be an acknowledgement of this. Would it be anything more? A whole-hearted acceptance of the cards-this, to me, seems impossible and not quite right. The right angle to the universe, the finding of a vantage point, through the forest, so as to see clearly. At the very least, the ability to dream oneself out of where one finds oneself and is lost...

What does W look back to? Nick Lezard says to Grimm's fairy tales, characters half-emerging into the light, a peasant dazed by the city lights. And yet, more than anything W sounds modern to our ears: easy going, light hearted, slightly unhinged, someone who repeats words to himself, like this, like this...

Everyone says he is incomparable and a great sign of that is that everyone wants to draw a comparison with him! To me he sounds a bit like Calvino's Palomar, or at least a Palomar who hasn't lived through the horrors of the 20th century. Naivete: yes!; but what distinguishes them is that one still hears a human voice talking to you in W...

"Paint me a railroad station, then, ten minutes before dark."

Commentary on this, from goldenrulejones (a lovely site on Walser):

What does "then" mean, or rather do, in that sentence?..It carries the faintest hint of a continuing conversation, and smooths out the otherwise abrupt transition the reader undertakes in the opening sentence or paragraph of any story: from knowing nothing about the world of the story to accepting that world not only extending forward through time as we follow events of the narrative, but extending also backwards in time, before the events of the story occur, and before we came along.

Imagine someone stumbling across your blog for the first time...maybe they read your latest post, quickly glance at your 'other bloggers' list or 'labels' to quickly gauge where you're coming from. An image might help. Does this person have a friendly face? Man or woman? That's always important.  Maybe, if you care enough, you look at the 'about me' page, see what films or books the other person likes. Doesn't really get you very far. What's the story, what's the story before the story? 

~~~

Last night there was an electricity shutdown from 10 'till 4:30 in the  morning so feeling a bit cranky today. The back up UPS system needs a clear two hours of electricity to gather its strength and so any continuous shortage incapacitates it. By two o' clock the fan has slowed down, a slow swirling around its centre and you think to yoursef: why bother! Please, do us a favour and stop going through the motions of being a fan, accept that your existence has changed...

By two thirty you say to yourself: show some mental strength, don't let this get to you..in the bigger scheme of things your uncomfort is a laughable trifle, something that can be forgotten with a healthy breakfast. You examine your hands in the single stream of light that penetrates the darkness...it is like a miniature stage light.

By three you are thankful for the fan which is only working intermittently now. It takes huge ten minute 'breathers' and then gets back to work, reluctantly, as if being whipped...

You think to yourself: mental strength means accepting you haven't got mental strength; you need to be more flexible. If you resist too much it will come back to haunt you so let it flow.

The battery is down to its last reserves, the copper wires barely sending out a thin pulse of energy, the last hope of the element like a tired fox that raises its head just above ground-level. The quiet interior world made visible. 

There is the call to prayer, mercifully, in the early morning. That signifies you've made it. You walk about in the last crumbling hour of darkness, without any anxiety, pacing up and down, stumbling against little r's bike, the strange waltz in the early hours of the day holding me together...