De Chileense schrijver Roberto Bolaño werd geboren op 28 april 1953 in Santiago de Chile. Zie ook mijn blog van 28 april 2009.
Uit: 2666 (Vertaald door Natasha Wimmer)
“The first time that Jean-Claude Pelletier read Benno von Archimboldi was Christmas 1980, in Paris, when he was nineteen years old and studying German literature. The book in question was D’Arsonval. The young Pelletier didn’t realize at the time that the novel was part of a trilogy (made up of the English-themed The Garden and the Polish-themed The Leather Mask, together with the clearly French-themed D’Arsonval), but this ignorance or lapse or bibliographical lacuna, attributable only to his extreme youth, did nothing to diminish the wonder and admiration that the novel stirred in him.
From that day on (or from the early morning hours when he concluded his maiden reading) he became an enthusiastic Archimboldian and set out on a quest to find more works by the author. This was no easy task. Getting hold of books by Benno von Archimboldi in the 1980s, even in Paris, was an effort not lacking in all kinds of difficulties. Almost no reference to Archimboldi could be found in the university’s German department. Pelletier’s professors had never heard of him. One said he thought he recognized the name. Ten minutes later, to Pelletier’s outrage (and horror), he realized that the person his professor had in mind was the Italian painter, regarding whom he soon revealed himself to be equally ignorant.
Pelletier wrote to the Hamburg publishing house that had published D’Arsonval and received no response. He also scoured the few German bookstores he could find in Paris. The name Archimboldi appeared in a dictionary of German literature and in a Belgian magazine devoted — whether as a joke or seriously, he never knew — to the literature of Prussia. In 1981, he made a trip to Bavaria with three friends from the German department, and there, in a little bookstore in Munich, on Voralmstrasse, he found two other books: the slim volume titled Mitzi’s Treasure, less than one hundred pages long, and the aforementioned English novel, The Garden.”
Roberto Bolaño (28 april 1953 – 15 juli 2003)
De Amerikaans schrijfster Nelle Harper Lee werd geboren in Monroeville op 28 april 1926. Zie ook mijn blog van 28 april 2009.
Uit: To Kill a Mockingbird
“Mindful of John Wesley's strictures on the use of many words in buying and selling, Simon made a pile practicing medicine, but in this pursuit he was unhappy lest he be tempted into doing what he knew was not for the glory of God, as the putting on of gold and costly apparel. So Simon, having forgotten his teacher's dictum on the possession of human chattels, bought three slaves and with their aid established a homestead on the banks of the Alabama River some forty miles above Saint Stephens. He returned to Saint Stephens only once, to find a wife, and with her established a line that ran high to daughters. Simon lived to an impressive age and died rich.
It was customary for the men in the family to remain on Simon's homestead, Finch's Landing, and make their living from cotton. The place was self-sufficient: modest in comparison with the empires around it, the Landing nevertheless produced everything required to sustain life except ice, wheat flour, and articles of clothing, supplied by river-boats from Mobile.
Simon would have regarded with impotent fury the disturbance between the North and the South, as it left his descendants stripped of everything but their land, yet the tradition of living on the land remained unbroken until well into the twentieth century, when my father, Atticus Finch, went to Montgomery to read law, and his younger brother went to Boston to study medicine. Their sister Alexandra was the Finch who remained at the Landing: she married a taciturn man who spent most of his time lying in a hammock by the river wondering if his trot-lines were full.“
Harper Lee (Monroeville, 28 april 1926)
De Joods-Oostenrijkse dichter, schrijver en journalist Karl Kraus werd geboren in Jičin, Bohemen, Oostenrijk-Hongarije (thans Tsjechië) op 28 april 1874. Zie ook mijn blog van 28 april 2007 en ook mijn blog van 28 april 2008 en ook mijn blog van 28 april 2009.
Wiese im Park
Wie wird mir zeitlos. Rückwärts hingebannt
weil' ich und stehe fest im Wiesenplan,
wie in dem grünen Spiegel hier der Schwan.
Und dieses war mein Land.
Die vielen Glockenblumen! Horch und schau!
Wie lange steht er schon auf diesem Stein,
der Admiral. Es muß ein Sonntag sein
und alles läutet blau.
Nicht weiter will ich. Eitler Fuß, mach Halt!
Vor diesem Wunder ende deinen Lauf.
Ein toter Tag schlägt seine Augen auf.
Und alles bleibt so alt.
Nun weiß ich doch, 's ist Frühling wieder.
Ich sah es nicht vor so viel Nacht
und lange hatt' ich's nicht gedacht.
Nun merk' ich erst, schon blüht der Flieder.
Wie fand ich das Geheimnis wieder?
Man hatte mich darum gebracht.
Was hat die Welt aus uns gemacht!
Ich dreh' mich um, da blüht der Flieder.
Und danke Gott, er schuf mich wieder,
indem er wiederschuf die Pracht.
Sie anzuschauen aufgewacht,
so bleib' ich stehn. Noch blüht der Flieder
Es war einmal.
Ich leb' am Tage vom Gedanken,
nachts von der Qual;
oft träum' ich nur vom Traum.
Du gehst dahin und bist dir selbst es kaum.
In meinem Wahn jedoch, dem fieberkranken,
sind deine Wesen ohne Zahl.
Karl Kraus (28 april 1874 - 12 juni 1936)
De Azteekse dichter en filosoof Nezahualcóyotl werd geboren in Texcoco op 28 april 1402.
Uit: SONG OF NEZAHUALCOYOTL (Fragment)
Our drums are ready; already I inspire the eagles and jaguars to
dance. Already you are on your feet, song flower. I search for
songs, our adornments. Ayyo.
Toward the end of it all I, Nezahualcoyotl, go weeping. Why must I
go lose myself in the land of the dead? Already I leave you, by
whom all live, you command me to lose myself in the land of the
How will things continue on Earth, in Acolhuacan? In time will
you disperse all your dependents, spirit of all I leave behind?
Only songs are our adornments. Already He destroys our painted
books, the princes. Be joyful here, no one has his house on earth;
we must leave the fragrant flowers. Ayyo.
Drums: Quititi quititi quiti quiti tocoto tocoti tocototocoti. Just
thus it will come back in.
Let there be flower songs. Let my younger brothers sing. I drink
intoxicating flowers; already they have arrived, the flowers that
make us dizzy, they come to glorify. Ayyo.
Let there be flowers. Bouquets of flowers have already arrived here;
flowers of pleasure are scattered, many-colored flowers rain
entwined. The drum resounds: let the dance begin. Ayyo.
Nezahualcóyotl (28 april 1402 - 4 juni 1472)
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 28e april ook mijn vorige blog van vandaag.
28-04-2010 om 20:27
geschreven door Romenu