#arno holz

[My springtime, a sobbing hunger,] by Arno Holz

Illustration to a poem by Arno Holz by Alfred Roller.

Papa Hamlet (Book acquired, 20 Aug. 2021)

Papa Hamlet is kind of a weird one. This is the first time Arno Holz and Johannes Schlaf’s collaborative 1889 German novel has appeared in English, thanks to translator James J. Conway and publisher Rixdorf Editions. Here’s their blurb: Adultery, vulgarity, disordered lives on the brink of collapse: the feverish existence of failed actor Niels Thienwiebel shocked German readers when Papa Hamlet…

Werner Bischof, Tin Soldiers, 1941

Si amavano

Si amavano. Pativano la luce, labbra azzurre nell’alba, labbra ch’escono dalla notte dura, labbra squarciate, sangue, sangue dove? Si amavano in un letto battello, mezzo tra notte e luce.

Si amavano come i fiori le spine profonde, o il giallo che sboccia in amorosa gemma, quando girano i volti melanconicamente, giralune che brillano nel…

At the age of five I was ... certain about everything.

In China French was spoken, in Africa there was a bird, called a kangaroo, and the Virgin Mary was Catholic and had a skyblue robe on.

She was made of wax and was the dear Lord's mother.

When I grew up, I wanted to become Schiller and Goethe and live in Berlin behind the palace.

When I had children, I wanted to have them all painted.

That wouldn't be so expensive, and they wouldn't tear their pants.

At Pollakowski's book bindery hung a large colorful flyspeckbespeckled poster with a white stallion, rearing on his hind legs.

The fat Turk with the shining saber on the post was Ali Pascha.

If I ever got a dime, I wanted to buy ... it for myself.

But mostly I did so want ... to discover the source of the Nile. I knew exactly how you would do it.

Where it flowed out, you simply go into a boat, paddled, piddled and puddled to where everything stops.

Then you were there.

There, there were apes, throwing oranges and coconuts at each other, gold dust, and grape-raisin trees with bushels of almonds on them.

And so I wouldn't starve, I would take lots of barley-sugar bars along and a mess of carob bread.

But I wouldn't tell anyone.

That I kept for myself alone.