the blue curtain #4
hiding behind books
The royal ducks of Rheinsberg had babies. The lilac bloomed. The rowing club opened the season with a race. White asparagus hit the stands. Election posters were hung up. And I? I read novels and poetry and wrote. Slowly, pages are turning into a new book.
Reading List
My favorite discoveries were these books:
“Erden” by Dóri Varga is a fine collection of poems dedicated to “hopeful women”. Reading them feels like a walk on the beach in unreliable weather.
I especially liked one called “Change”:
Don’t be confused by my chaos. I only lose myself to find myself. Again and again.
Varga wrote her first poems after a separation, somewhat as therapy. She lives between Budapest and San Diego; collects art, admires the moon and rolls her own cigarettes.
“Erden” was published by AKI with the original poems (in english) and a german translation.
I read everything Sheila Heti writes. It’s a true girl crush and I am still debating if I should write her a fan letter. This spring “Alphabetical Diaries” came out and once again, she breaks free from conventional notions of what literature is and can be. Her writing is like a mushroom trip. She shakes awake, lays bare, and when reading her lines, it's as if she's sitting in front of you, snapping her fingers and saying: Come on, just think without guardrails and tell us. Tell us what's going on.
My Mother laughs
Is there anyone who does not admire Chantal Akerman?
I just read her book “My Mother Laughs” (also available in german and french). It is set in the year 2013. Her mother was dying. Akerman flew back from New York to care for her, and between dressing her, feeding her and putting her to bed, Akerman wrote. She wrote about her childhood, the escape her mother made from Auschwitz, the difficulties with her girlfriend C. and her fear of what she would do when her mother did die.
It is a book about Akermans personal and creative life and an honest account of the simplest and most complicated love story of all: the relationship between a mother and a daughter.
Akerman’s writing is incredibly clean and clear, witty and sometimes humorous but she always finds just the right balance. For a week, she was my guardian, leading me to places I wouldn't dare go alone.
Also: One of Akermans disturbingly brilliant films is currently available on Mubi and the art space Bozar in Brussels (her hometown) just dedicated a retrospective to the filmmaker, writer and artist. It will travel to Paris in September.
May Day
Perhaps you've already grasped where I am right now. May is always a strange, complex month. It's more about looking inwards. For me it means: Another year around the moon ends, a new one begins. Who am I? And that's often what writing is about, isn't it? Trying to find out something you don’t know or don’t understand yet about the world and you in it.
P.S.: If you are still looking for the perfect thick cotton T-Shirt and that a one pair of jeans that makes your butt look like dynamite and still lets you eats pizza: Check out A Hidden Bee in Istanbul or Online.
See you on the other side
xCarolin