#thomasmann

[youronlinepublicist]

"A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people."

[kelamzen]

Kendini de duymamak için kımıldamadan durduğunda, hiç kimsenin başka hiçbir yerde algılayamayacağı mutlak ve kusursuz bir sessizlik ve pamuktan oluşan bir suskunluk oluyordu; ağaçlara dokunup geçecek kadar bir esinti, bir hışırtı, bir kuş sesi bile olmadan.” (Büyülü Dağ/ #ThomasMann ) (Turkey) https://www.instagram.com/p/CRZV_iTgupr/?utm_medium=tumblr

[michael-weinstein]

Death in Venice, but instead of cholera it is Covid-19

Thomas Mann's novella Death in Venice has been an important part of my life for the past 6 months. I first read it in January, when Covid-19 was already widespread in China, and it was beginning to spread in Italy and South Korea. I was reading it for a book report for my English lesson, yet the day I was doing it, though, Putin and Pence were in town for the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. As a result, I had to leave early and I could refresh my memory over the week with a Hebrew translation. After that, I saw the Visconti movie (which I might discuss in another post), and was deeply touched despite the many differences between the movie and the novella (and I do prefer the original). Now, even though I don't live in the US, Israel has enough hell going around here regarding the virus, and during these times I keep being reminded by a certain passage in Mann's novella. After spending a month in Venice, the main character, German writer Gustav von Aschenbach, reads in the German-language newspapers rumors regarding a cholera outbreak, and all around the city there are notices in Italian, and there is a smell of disinfection in the air. After trying to figure out what is going on, he finally decides to ask a British travel agent.

He [Aschenbach] entered the English travel agency at St Mark's Square and after he had exchanged some money, he addressed the clerk with his fatal question, with the expression of the distrustful stranger. It was an Englishman in tweed, still young, his hair parted down the middle, with narrow-set eyes, and that kind of loyalty of character which seems so alien and peculiar in the roguish South. He said: "No reason for concern, sir. A measure without grave implications. These kinds of orders are issued all the time to combat the ill effects of the heat and scirocco. . . " But looking up with his blue eyes he met the weary and somewhat sad gaze of the foreigner which was trained with slight disdain at his lips. The Englishman blushed. "That is," he continued, "the official version which people are trying to uphold. I will tell you there is something else to it. . . " And then he told the truth in his honest language.

For several years Indian cholera had shown an increased tendency to spread and travel. Born in the sultry swamps of the Ganges delta, ascended with the mephitic odor of that unrestrained and unfit wasteland, that wilderness avoided by men, in the bamboo thickets of which the tiger is crouching, the epidemic had spread to Hindustan, to China, to Afghanistan and Persia and even to Moscow. But while Europe was fearing the specter might make its entrance over land, it had appeared in several Mediterranean ports, spread by Syrian traders, had arrived in Toulon, Malaga, Palermo, and Naples, also in Calabria and Apulia. The North seemed to have been spared. But in May of that year, the horrible vibrios were discovered in the emaciated and blackened bodies of a sailor and of a greengrocer. The deaths were kept secret. But after a week it had been ten, twenty or thirty victims, and in different quarters. An Austrian man had died in his hometown under unambiguous circumstances, after he had vacationed for a few days in Venice and so the first rumors of the malady appeared in German newspapers. The officials of Venice responded that the public health situation had never been better and ordered the necessary measures to fight the disease. But the foodstuffs had probably been infected. Meat, vegetables and milk contributed to more deaths and the tepid water of the canals was particularly to blame. It seemed as if the disease had become more contagious and virulent. Cases of recovery were rare; eighty of a hundred infected persons died in the most horrible fashion, because the malady came in the particularly severe form called "dry cholera". Here the body was unable to even get rid of the water that came from the blood vessels. Within a few hours the afflicted person dried up and suffocated on his viscid blood amid spasms and croaky cries of pain. Comparatively lucky were those who, after a slight feeling of nauseousness fell into a deep blackout, from which they mostly did not come to again. In early June the quarantine barracks of the hospital had been filling silently, in the two orphanages there was no longer enough room, and a horrific traffic developed between the city and San Michele, the cemetery island. But the fear of general damage, regard for the recently opened exhibition of paintings in the municipal gardens, for the enormous financial losses that threatened the tourist industry in case of a panic, had more impact in the city than love of truth and observation of international agreements; it made feasible the official policy of secrecy and denial. The highest medical official had resigned, filled with indignation, and had been replaced with a more docile person. The people were aware of that; and the corruption at the top together with the reigning uncertainty, the state of emergency caused by the suffering all around, caused a certain demoralization, an encouragement of unsavory antisocial tendencies, which took form as debauchery, wantonness and a rise of criminal behavior. Against the normal rule, many drunken men were noticeable in the evenings; vile rabble made the streets unsafe in the night; robbery and even murder happened again and again, for two times it had already proven that supposed victims of the epidemic had in reality been killed by their relatives with poison; and prostitution became more obtrusive and excessive, in a way that was normally more associated with the South of the country or the Orient.

Sounds familiar to anyone?

(Originally posted: 23 July 2020)

[willywaldo]

He saw it once more, that landing-place that takes the breath away, that amazing group of incredible structures the Republic set up to meet the awe-struck eye of the approaching seafarer:  the airy splendour of the palace and the Bridge of Sighs, the column of lion and saint on the shore, the glory of the projecting flank of the fairy temple, the vista of gateway and clock. Looking, he thought that to come to Venice by station is like entering a palace by the back door. No one should approach, save by the high seas as he was doing now, this most improbable of cities.

Thomas Mann, Death in Venice

[uzunburakefendi]

. "Şunu hiçbir zaman gözden uzak tutmamalısınız: Felsefeciler ve edebiyatçılar bir düşünceyi, bir ilkeyi ortadan kaldırınca yavaş yavaş bir kral çıkar ortaya ve bu kral 'bunu' en iyi ve en güzel diye benimseyip ona göre davrandığını sanır... krallar hep böyledir işte! Öyle sanıldığı gibi erişilmez insanlar da değildirler, hatta çok sıradan insanlardır, her zaman halkın gerisinde kalırlar..." syf.155 . "Hayat ve tarih öğretti bunu bana. Mutluluğun ve yükselişin simgeleri, gözle görülebilen ve elle tutulabilen belirtileri, ancak her şey ters gitmeye ve yıkılmaya başladığında ortaya çıkar. Bu tür dış belirtilerin ortaya çıkması zamanla olur, tıpkı şu gökyüzündeki pırıl pırıl parlayan yıldızın sönmeye mi başladığını ya da bütünüyle sönmüş mü olduğunu bilemediğimiz gibi." syf.471 . "Umut, ne kadar aldatıcı olsa da, güzel bir yolda yürürken ömrümüzün sonuna varmamızı sağlar hiç değilse." syf.652 Aslında bir çeşit "mal da yalan, mülk de yalan, var biraz da sen oyalan" romanı diyebiliriz -ben dedim işte, bir şey olmadı-. Bu oyalanışta, kendini çok şey sanan Buddenbrook ailesinin üç kuşağını görüyoruz. Siyasette ve ticarette ne kadar başarılı olurlarsa olsunlar değişen dünyaya ayak uyduramıyorlar ve çatlaklar belirmeye başlıyor. Kitabın adında da belirtildiği üzere çöküyorlar. Ama bu çöküşe eşlik edip sadece hayatla ilgili değil, edebiyata yönelik de birçok şey öğrenebilir, hiç olmadı Mann'ı saygıyla selamlayabiliriz. #thomasmann #buddenbrooklar #biraileninçöküşü #çeviri #kasımeğit #yadigareğit #canyayınları #kitap #neokuyorum #okumakiptiladır #okumahalleri #roman https://www.instagram.com/p/CJBX-aDpuIt/?igshid=u0p905smnt8l

[nemfekete-es-nemfeher]

Egy művészt, egy igazi művészt, nem olyant, akinek a művészet polgári foglalkozás, hanem egy predesztináltat, egy művészsorsra kárhoztatottat, csekély éleslátással fel lehet fedezni egész tömeg ember közt. Lerí az arcáról az elkülönültség, a senkihez nem tartozás, a felismerve és megfigyelve levés érzése, valami királyi és egyúttal zavarodott jelleg.

Thomas Mann - Tonio Kröger

[pensamientosliterarios]

#ThomasMann. Sobre el hombre. . . . . #pensamientosliterarios #frases #frasesparareflexionar #frasesparastatus #frasesparacompartir #frasesparafotos #citasenespañol #citasliterarias #quotes #inspirationalquotes https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz8UNy6D8nZ/?igshid=8rj8znwvpqcn

[awesomesarmstrong]

Sentire come dentro di te si agitino forze meravigliose, giocose e malinconiche, e sapere che coloro a cui vanno le tue ardenti aspirazioni rimangono serenamente inaccessibili di fronte ad esse, fa molto male. Ma sebbene egli stesse solo, escluso e senza speranza davanti a una finestra con le persiane chiuse, e nella sua angoscia fingesse di potervi guardare attraverso, tuttavia era felice. Perché allora il suo cuore viveva.

Tonio Kroeger, Thomas Mann