Markus Werner (1944–2016)

Modern Swiss literature often seems to revolve around business flights, five-star hotels, misdemeanours among C-suite executives and what – to summarise crudely – you might dismiss as first-world problems. In the best cases (something like Max Frisch's Homo Faber), we see how fragile this lifestyle really is, but in other cases one is uncomfortably aware of a sort of haze of affluence that somehow keeps Swiss lit out of the first rank (although there's no intrinsic reason why it should).

There is nothing wrong with this book, but it did have me thinking about these things. Taking place within the space of a single weekend, on the terrace of a luxury hotel in the Ticino, it takes the form of an intense interpersonal thriller, in which everyone has their secrets and the drama emerges from conversational manoeuvres and unspoken assumptions. Two men who appear to meet by chance; a discussion that appears to flow at random; suspicions and wild surmises that build to a crescendo. It has a nice mood and a good line in cynical philosophising, although the big twist at the end was something I guessed halfway through, and I am usually pretty dense about such things.… (meer)

Quasi un'opera teatrale

Opera non troppo conosciuta, scritto bene (anche se l'amica traduttrice che me l'ha prestato ha delle riserve, conoscendo personalmente l'autore) e dalle atmosfere degne di una pièce teatrale. L'incontro apparentemente casuale fra due uomini fa snocciolare, in lunghe conversazioni, temi universali. Dalla religione alla filosofia, dalla morale all'amore, alla morte e via così, in un crescendo straniante e pieno di ombre, in un disegno del quale si intravedono linee e colori, ma si fatica a mettere insieme il tutto. Perchè un senso c'è, ma arriva lentamente... e come arriva, scompare anche. Un cerchio perfetto. Linguaggio un pò "nordico" da sentimenti rarefatti dal tempo persino quando i temi in gioco sono ardenti, ma a certe latitudini è difficile riscaldare le parole. In ogni caso merita di essere seminato.… (meer)

Seltsames (Kammer)stück - zwei Männer treffen sich, trinken ziemlich viel miteinander, reden viel zu ausgiebig über sehr private Sachen um am Ende fest zu stellen: der eine hat die ganze Zeit gelogen, zumindest teilweise, aber auch wahrscheinlich wesentlich. Wie viel davon war Wahrheit, was waren seine Motive, warum hat seine Rache, falls es eine war, so eine seltsame Form angenommen, wie wird das alles enden oder weiter gehen, und - seit wann reden Männer so miteinander? Die Fragen bleiben unbeantwortet, das Buch eine Persönlichkeitsbeobachtung. Die Sprache gefiel mir, ihre verschobene Blumigkeit und altmodischer Charme haben mich angesprochen.… (meer)