By Christian Schmid
mail to Hans Bäck
God be with you dear Hans!
I am grad of a beautiful journey into the inner emigration
back to nature and have to commit suicide by Brigitte Schwaiger
shocking too.
your book, "How did salt get into the sea" has inspired me in my
Hugend, I read it on a long sea passage
and connect me more
many memories associated with the book
.
What came later, it has not fallen.
from her own I then again only in a very sensitive and well-made
ORF OÖ-
interview heard and seen. I was then shocked
, the outer decline (by
alcohol causes disease) see, but it filled my heart to hear
with joy, how much they
positives to draw from that to which everything else in life worth living as
the situation was.
She was a welfare case and under which they suffered
certainly the most. This is the start for me
the question:
What must a state that it is not so far
? What can the individual, because this can not but
silent screams remain unheard
, or we all live by a house-
hofer'schen Glasmonade surrounded that we walk past each other
so careless.
It is not the critic who his tools
guards like a hawk, the death of an artist
hberbeiführt. And if so, then it is a singular lack of understanding of
being who dares to ask
apotheosis of all. I think there
only to Deon Meyer, Mankell
South Africa, my God, they have laid the stones
in the way, and yet he is unwavering
went his way.
Brigitte Schwaiger has chosen writing as a form of
therapy in the last years,
because it seemed to her as the only way to send
a cry of despair at the house end up in window-
loose Betonmonaden people
to help her. That there is a literary
feathers are left for me to
hand. Since then that does not sit at any point
and not every comma seems
clear.
Whether it's purpose and meaning fulfillment of
is criticism, with Puritanism this or that
omission literary "value"
tools on the scale of our self Eitel-
opportunities lay, which I leave to judge each
to individual critic from himself.
[...]
Christian Schmid
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