baron wenckheim's homecoming reviews

There’s no strong redemption, and the tone is black with ignorance melted down to absurdity. As speculation runs wild over how he’s going to lavish his supposedly vast fortune on zhushing-up the rundown locale, he attracts an array of oddball hangers-on, including a petty crook likening himself to Dante, which prompts a mix-up over the Baron’s ignorance of Brazilian footballers, in a small-scale instance of the comedy of errors that breaks out over his every move. Baron Wenckheim's Homecoming is the latest of Krasznahorkai's works to be translated into English, in this instance by Ottilie Mulzet. While this tactic can make a new reader initially seasick, the reader who sticks with it finds the going easier and the rewards many. His memory is rather hazy, and his wealth non-existent. Even as he teases, maligns, and undermines his characters, he remains empathetic to their plights and blind spots, for he knows that even the most evil deeds are conjured by brokenness ... sections flow easily as Krasznahorkai’s meandering prose swaps points of view at each paragraph break, allowing his characters’ opinions to mesh and conflict. It’s also an experiment in suspense that recalls the shaggy-dog detours of improvisational comedy. by Charlotte Collins and Ruth Martin, Laszlo Krasznahorkai, Trans. Top subscription boxes – right to your door, See all details for Baron Wenckheim's Homecoming, © 1996-2020,, Inc. or its affiliates. The wonderful paradox of [Krasznahorkai's] thought-killing exercises is that they in fact produce endless waves of foaming cognition. I just wish it wasn't so long in the telling. The petty narcissism of local officials and the baron’s propensity for Thomas Bernhard-like vitriol regarding his native country are among the pleasures of this great work. Make no mistake, Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming is gloomy, frequently inert, boring, frustrating.Its more vatic passages can feel superfluous (“The world is nothing more than an event, lunacy, a lunacy of billions and billions of events, and nothing is fixed, nothing is confined, nothing graspable, everything slips away if we want to clutch on to it”). Hungarian-born László Krasznahorkai, winner of the 2015 Man Booker international prize and best known for Satantango (1985), later made into a legendarily dour seven-hour film of the same name by Béla Tarr, has described it in summative terms: “I’ve said it a thousand times that I always wanted to write just one book … with Baron, I can close this story.”. It is offered as the conclusion to a "series," loosely connected, running from, . ... superb ... a manic Greek chorus that infuses festive Technicolor into his multifaceted, bleak vision. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. The Professor's specialty, natural science, is key to the somewhat mercurial action of the story, such as it is, with its long streams of self-interrogation and due reflection. • Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming by László Krasznahorkai (translated by Ottilie Mulzet) is published by Tuskar Rock (£20). Long winding dreamy and lovely, all the usual Krasznahorkai pleasures, Reviewed in the United States on August 18, 2019, While it's a fool's errand to blaze through it quickly enough to meet an Amazon-imposed short deadline for this review — and so I haven't — I can easily say nonetheless that Krasznahorkai's newest novel is a treat, full of the pleasures of his absolutely incomparable style, and ably translated as always by the great Ottilie Mulzet. A rambling, disjointed, cumbersome first sentence carries on forever and, if it is meant to intrigue some readers, has the potential to be highly irritating to others. Maybe you have to read the previous three books to enjoy this one. I saw this on the Vine list time after time and wasn't sure I wanted to commit myself to an almost 600 page book. This justly celebrated writer won the Best Book of the Year award in Germany for The Melancholy of Resistance and the 2013 Best Translated Book Award in Fiction for Sátántangó, which was later adapted as a seven-and-a-half-hour film of the same name by Hungarian film director, Bela Tarr.

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