Hier ist noch ein
Zitat aus dem Vorwort von Edward Abbey zu seinem Buch Desert Solitaire. A Season in the Wilderness, in dem er über die
Möglichkeit bzw. Unmöglichkeit schreibt, diese Landschaft mit Sprache zu
erfassen:
This is not
primarily a book about the desert. In recording my impressions of the natural
scene I have striven above all for accuracy, since I believe that there is a
kind of poetry, even a kind of truth, in simple fact. But the desert is a vast
world, an oceanic world, as deep in its way and complex and various as the sea.
Language make a mighty loose net with which to go fishing for simple facts,
when facts are infinite. […]
Since you
cannot get the desert into a book any more than a fisherman can haul up the sea
with his nets, I have tried to create a world of words in which the desert
figures more as a medium than as material. Not imitation but evocation has been
the goal. […]
It will be
objected that the book deals too much with mere appearances, with the surface
of things, and fails to engage and reveal the patterns of unifying
relationships which form the true underlying reality of existence. Here I must
confess that I know nothing whatever about true underlying reality, having
never met any. There are many people who say they have, I know, but they’ve
been luckier than I.
Edward
Abbey, Desert Solitaire. A Season in the
Wilderness (1968) p. x-xi
Ich habe noch
einmal geprüft, wie Kappacher vorgegangen ist. Seine Beschreibungen im zweiten
Teil stimmen völlig mit diesen Vorgaben von Abbey zur Poetik des Faktischen und
der Oberfläche der Dinge überein. Die mystischen Überhöhungen finden erst in
Wesselys Erinnerungen und Träumen im dritten Teil statt. Ein schöner, ein
kluger, ein weiser Roman!
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