Satantango

>too boring to watch
Yeah exactly why it reminded me of growing up.

>The film is the greatest piece of cinema created (so far).

Hah.

> The film is the greatest piece of cinema created (so far).

opinion discarded

Sose olvastam

krasz is just a shitty version of thomas bernhard. fuck him. melancholy of resistance is terrible. i donated it to a thrift store immediately.

Is this is ruse?

That comparison is horrible.

Show me where the bad Hungarian touched you, user.

I mean Krasznahorkai's prose style reminds me a little of Bernhard in that it's a constant flow but Bernhard is entirely internal whereas Krasznahorkai is not.
The two are comparable but to call him a shitty Bernhard is stupid.
Horacio Castellanos Moya is more like a lesser Bernhard than Krasznahorkai (not to say Moya is bad, he's good, very good, but he does the same thing as Bernhard and not as well)

>The clock above their heads shows a quarter before ten but what else should they be waiting for? They know what the neon light with its piercing buzz is doing on that ceiling with its hairline cracks and what the timeless echo of those slamming doors is all about; they know why those heavy boots with their half-moon metaled heels are clattering down those strangely high, tiled corridors, just as they suspect why the lights at the back have not been lit and why everything looks so tired and dim

Why were the lights at the back not lit?

>The film is the greatest piece of cinema created (so far).

>what is James Cameron's Avatar

A B A T A P

Just finished it today lads.

nice blog
does it have an rss feed?

quality post

what? please elaborate? sources?

Krasznahorkai is in love with Berhard and he's very open about it... Tarr is also a big fan.

Uh okay well Bernhard is hugely influential to European lit on the whole sooo what is your point buddy?

oh man, who knew that my post here would garner such an obnoxious and butthurt response. fuck sake guys.

>I'm a retard waaah

>t. butthurt responder

What's your favorite Bernhard novel?

the only book of his i've read, The Loser

Oh yeah that ones good, what'd you think of the ending?

i don't remember the ending. at all. i liked reading about gould though, and the envy seemed to pour from the page like so much curdled milk. anyway, it was the first book i read on my kindle, when i was a naive lad. sped through it, enjoyed it, don't remember much from it. tried krasz about 3 months ago, noticed the shit on the page immediately style, felt as though either the translation was poor or that it was emulating too much german "look at me, i'm a philosopher writing fiction because i'm an asshole" for me.

You're full of shit pal and you've outed yourself as full of shit

not at all. i read The Loser. if i haven't passed some test you want me to, i don't give a fuck, honestly.

stay pleb my man

>i'm so grumpy about an opinion that i tested some anonymous man on his knowledge of the subject to make myself feel better

i may be a pleb, but i'm not a petty whiny bitch.

Idk how calling you out on your bullshit makes me a petty whiny bitch but keep posting anime my guy that way I know to ignore all your posts

what bullshit are you talking about? i don't remember the specific details of a book i didn't care to remember clearly, and liked another book even less, and compared it to the other book in a thread about the author of the book i liked less just to bullshit you? what the fuck kind of world do you live in that people are so maniacally petty that they would do some stupid shit like that?

Krasz's writing style reminded me of Bernhard's. unbroken by convention, but it was far less compelling to me, so i dropped the book. the connection was a simple one, i don't have some hidden agenda to hurt your feelings over a fucking hungarian author.

>getting this rustled on a kyrgyzstani rice tasting forum

...

the chapter where the government agents write their report on the whole situation is one of the funniest things I've read

that shit was hilarious but so sinister at the end with the government worker essentially thinking of it as any other day; the suffering of the buffoons Irimias dealt w being just another hungarian day

So Krasznahorkai writes about nothing other than how much he hates Hungarians?

Bernard doesn't seem very universal. There's a world outside of Austria. Some people don't give a fuck about Austrians.

I'm one of them.

I have the Correction

I read about 50 pages, not my thing.

>some peasants argue about something
>some kind of affair is going on
>some kind of fear that two people are approaching the village
>two or three shiftless guys arrive at an office asking for work or something

I didn't get it.

I love Seiobo to death..

Is The Melancholy Of Resistance good for my second Krasznahorkai novel? Picking it up on Wednesday. Loved Satantango, thought it was pretty interesting especially how it is basically an anti-1984 in some ways, people try or exploit a system for their own personal profit but the system is far too beyond repair for such a thing to happen so the only thing left is to just wallow in despair. Has a feeling of Dostoyevsky a little except religion doesn't come by to save them.

Melancholy is sort of like a hectic Master and Margarita.

Imo it's extraordinary, a modern masterpiece, brutal, relentless.... brilliant.

It's a sublime work, isn't it? I'd be hard pressed to say my favorite section.
I actually have a question for any other anons that have read Seiobo There Below - the section on the artist retreat is structured traditionally, i.e. paragraphs and periods, unlike the rest of the book. What exactly was the point of that? Why the break from the rest of the structure?

So Satantango is bleak but very funny at some points (the only chapter totally devoid of humor, at least for me, was the chapter about little Esti). The Melancholy of Resistance doesn't have that humor at all and is even bleaker than Satantango. I had to stop reading The Melancholy of Resistance about 200 pages in. I was going through a difficult period of my life and I suffer from anxiety (not that that's, you know, unique in some way) and reading The Melancholy of Resistance was making me lose my fucking mind. The book was destroying me.

One book I never see people talk about is War & War. I'm deciding if I should read that or start Melancholy over. Anyone have any suggestions?

Oh, and The Last Wolf & Hermann is a fantastic work.

Hey y'all here's an interview with Laszlo that talks about his new book Baron Weckheim's Homecoming (out in 2018 in English, out now in Hungarian), it's very interesting.

asymptotejournal.com/interview/an-interview-laszlo-krasznahorkai/

Is there very much scholarship on Krasznahorkai in English language academics? I'm under the impression he's quite popular in Germany

The book has some really really pretty sentences, even in translation. Other than that I thought it was just paint by numbers modernism tbphwy.

>no paragraph breaks for seemingly no reason
>ruthlessly bleak characters, situations
>symbolic unexplained supernatural shit
>clumsy Christ references
>circular narrative structure

I don't understand why the modernists remain so Christ haunted. There are plenty of interesting things to say about Christianity, suffering, modernity, etc., you can say them without being a coy little faggot. Also the trope of a book ending at its beginning is to high modernism what "it was all a dream" endings are to hack screenwriters.

3 fantastic sentences/10

and here's an excerpt from his newest book in English, The Manhattan Project:

bombmagazine.org/article/9666327/from-em-the-manhattan-project-em

The Life and work of master inoue Kazuyuki was my personal favorite but I loved every piece.

Added to my prev post, the artist retreat was the only piece I didn't enjoy. I had the feeling that this was one of his earlier works which he sort of dropped in with the rest.

Hate avatar

Wondering how this will compare to Seibo. Has 21 stories instead of 16 and is about 150 pages shorter.

>A Hungarian interpreter obsessed with waterfalls, at the edge of the abyss in his own mind, wanders the chaotic streets of Shanghai. A traveler, reeling from the sights and sounds of Varanasi, encounters a giant of a man on the banks of the Ganges ranting on the nature of a single drop of water. A child laborer in a Portuguese marble quarry wanders off from work one day into a surreal realm utterly alien from his daily toils.

Also pissed that I have to fish out 20 something dollars for it because for some reason ND prefers fancy hardcovers now to paperbacks.