Elena Tikhomirova. Vacation home

Country house - never
Judith Hermann. Nothing but ghosts: stories. Frankfurt/Main: S.Fischer Verlag, 2003

Elena Tikhomirova

Publication date: February 10, 2004

“Nothing But Ghosts” is the second book by 33-year-old Judith Herman. The same one who, having debuted in 1998 with the collection “Country House - Later”, received the prestigious Kleist Prize for it and was named in criticism as the most promising German author.

From the very first pages of the book, the reader's attention is captured by the author's unique style: cool, detached, transparently detailed and at the same time based on the principle of undercurrents (an abundance of realities and subtlety of psychological nuance combined with understatement); It was precisely these “old-fashioned” style features that at one time distinguished the writer’s prose in the huge corpus of modern German literature.

Overall, Herman's second book is not as impressive as the first; the stories are longer and structurally more monotonous. However, a certain instrumental paucity, if not redeemed, is then offset by the tangible intensity of the search (which, in fact, reveals the real writer).

What is striking in the book is the almost demonstrative geographical dispersion of the action areas: from Italy to Iceland, from America to the Czech Republic. At the same time, if the reader takes the “travels” of the heroes seriously and is determined to “portrait” other countries and peoples, he will be greatly disappointed.

Prague Judit Herman is the backyard of any city. Norway is ugly and ugly : the heroine almost never leaves a certain run-down hotel. (One could also say this: Norway is somehow “Russian” - thanks to paradoxes dropped in passing like “it was cold, wild, beautiful in the cafe” , as well as the paradoxical combination of lying on the bed - with the feeling of starting a new life, readiness for any turn of events, Even chaos is not surprising in the end, an explosion, a scandal.)

Iceland, however, is unique and convincing: majestic peace, unhurried rhythm of the story. “Healthy” - according to the mood of the landscapes? - emotions without reflection and without delving into “someone else’s”, especially when it comes to painful passions; so the accidentally observed scene - an acquaintance (quiet, intelligent) hitting a friend on the head with an empty vodka bottle - only causes surprise. There will be no attempt to interpret the unimaginable scandal. It’s unclear - that’s the point.

But America is an outright stereotype. The plot of the title story: a simple American guy is trying to explain to a couple on the verge of breaking up the indescribable experience of purchasing children's Nike sneakers. America is represented in the book by advertising - a special kind: referring the consumer to trivial values ​​and becoming the guiding thread of his life. Russian authors traditionally made fun of such advertising and the naivety of its consumers (until the moment Pelevin discovered - albeit also not without irony - the “fateful” meaning of advertising, its ethics and mysticism). For Herman, this is a completely serious image, pregnant with a plot (a visit to America brings the birth of a child: the couple wanted to experience the happy sensations of buying tiny Nikes).

Venice is left without description - the author makes do with blank shots of toponyms, they flash like fireworks and go out: Rialto, Santa Maria della Salute, St. Mark's Cathedral... Venice would be conventional and unconvincing if no movement was noticed in the depths of the canvas: a certain woman appears a couple of times ominous figure. Dark, carnival, anonymously unpunished, tempting, darkening consciousness, sick, ugly, dangerous, demonic - the image of Venice is supported by references to masterpieces: Nicolas Roeg , Thomas Mann and Luchino Visconti ... - the mysticism of fate, beauty and temptation, Eros at hand at Thanatos. Herman skimped on imagery to invest in theme; The “signature” Venetian image seems to be needed in order to reconfigure the narrator: from seeking protection in the usual parental love - to fear for parents, care and the desire to protect “big children” from the invisible danger spilled in the world. If we recall the “American” story, it seems that there is a line visible here: readiness for house-building, once postponed. "Country house - later" .

It seems that the vast geography of the collection is just a sign and incentive to search for new paths. What is important is not the image of the country, not the idea of ​​it, but its impact on the soul, the ability to extract new experiences from it, to bring it into a previously unfamiliar state. A sort of tuning fork that tunes in one way or another. Thus, the “Slavic” (“Eastern”) vector awakens voluptuousness and exalted carnal fantasies. “Northern” - having unleashed it, he immediately calms down the passions, as if they didn’t exist...

Herman’s old theme is discernible in the book: temptation-resistance, readiness to step towards “relationships” - and a premonition of their inevitable illusoryness and emptiness. Some do not quite accurately call this subject of the writer’s attention love; could also be called eros - with the caveat that we mean eros in a generalized, almost ancient sense: an inescapable memory-dream of primordial completeness (which Plato called androgyne), an insoluble longing for ancient unity, the desire and pursuit of which constitute what we call love. At the end of the story “Love for Ari Oskarsson,” when the temptation of another “relationship” wears off, the freed energy seems to splash out into space, flickers and shimmers in the sky like the northern lights.

“We giggled. “I love you, too,” said Aries. “I love you, too.” He couldn’t calm down, it made him terribly amused, and it made me incredibly amused, too, but behind this fun I already felt something... something sad. And before I fully realized how sad it really was that we were laughing at this, Aries raised his hands to the sky and shouted, and I also raised my head and saw that what seemed to me a green cloud had begun suddenly spread. It spread and trembled, and became lighter and lighter, it was like a huge tornado, across the whole sky, luminous and very beautiful" (translation by A. Milstein ).

Catharsis, which has cleansed feelings (from irony, from self-deception and involuntary lies), replaces affection for a person with delight in the world, only in relationships with it are fullness of feelings and beauty possible. "And are you happy now?" - Aries asked and held his breath. “Very,” I said . ”

This is “love” according to Judith Herman. It is this shift in the understanding of “love” that does not allow us to call this prose psychological, love or feminine - in this capacity it would inevitably be perceived strangely: it is unemotional, and the emotions here are rather cold. Passions arise from anything, just not from interest and attraction (as in the initial story “Ruth”: they are generated by a tempting remark that someone else’s lover suits the narrator, “her type” ); It is not surprising that the impulse disappears just as “unreasonably.” And indeed: nothing but ghosts , ghostly feelings.

The title of the book is so expressive that it seems that the writer’s reflection has found its completion here. So, has the word been found?

However, there is also the building of a house ; Doesn't this path lead out of the haunted world? It probably doesn't work. This skill, in fact, is devoid of real power: it does not correlate with writing. In Herman, it is not difficult to notice that only detachment from “life” brings, along with freedom, openness to beauty. Image, word. (In the world of ghosts, they are seduced by the image of miniature sneakers and become pregnant - from eloquent words...) And is it by chance that stories where house-building declares itself as a guideline were less successful? In creative and literary terms, the only acquisition in them is the theme. Whether the author thinks about it or not, twisting a “nest” means for this style a tension that it can barely withstand. Maybe that’s why the book outlines a guess that makes the choice easier: rooting in “life” is another phantom, just like everything else. At the end of the last story (that is, at the end of the collection), “home” is Ari Oskarsson’s lot; the narrator gets it - beauty.

In terms of meta-description of the letter, “nothing but ghosts” can also be understood as a synonym for the well-known slogan: “nothing exists outside the text.” However, the title metaphor also includes other semantics. The answer refers to the question (is there anything other than...?), indicates a search and speaks of dissatisfaction with oneself. This moment is most interesting; the main thing, perhaps, is precisely that this letter, almost freezing at the “zero” mark, is not equal to itself, makes efforts to warm up, rushes towards the “subjunctive mood” (the possibility of a single, “destined” meeting is considered again and again) , then “imperative” (new supports and prohibitions are affirmed) - the text attracts a passion for ruptures . Actually, guessed through the tears and holes in the text, this brilliant veil , a certain dark abyss with living chaos in the depths gives breath to the stories in the collection.

German criticism looks for the common in Herman (“the Zen of everyday life”; “the postmodern contents of the freezer of feelings”) - but the very development of this prose testifies: its potential and field of attraction is classical writing , leading away from the “poetics of the surface” , writing outside the game .