"... the writer is afraid of the feelings that are not suitable for publication. He then waits for its irony. Linking their perceptions to the question of whether they are worthy of be written and reluctantly live it absolutely can not put into words. This occupational disease of the writer makes some drinkers, "writes Max Frisch in Montauk , short novel that merge time, people, reality and fiction. That's life, at least a writer or a passionate about literature, one can expect something different, much less those around him. "... The literature preserves the moment, that's what ..." The writer is afraid of forgetting, which can not return literature, or does not exist or is not worth the penalty there. Without it or the possibility of being in the universe it is disordered is not to fall into chaos that after all is their natural state, it is impossible to live there. Montauk is the story of the love of old and a young writer trying to interview him and then capture him first. He is not strange. I like this curious situation. The live in slow motion as if it were copying everything, recording, making literature, or better, checking literature.
"Amagannsett is called, then the small town where yesterday decided to report this weekend so autobiographical, autobiographical self. Without inventing characters, without inventing events that were more copies its reality, without deviating inventions. Without justifying his writing under commitment to the society, without a message. It has none and yet it lives. He just wants to tell (with all due respect to those quoted by name): his life. "First and third person is confused, of course.
" ... I do not live with my own story, only with parts that could be transformed into literature ... "he concludes. Great. And remember or invent, what matters," a French Nobel requested paper and pen by the way to the guillotine in order to write something and you are provided. The note could, of course, be destroyed if it was directed at someone. Not so. The note is purely and simply for himself: memorandum.
Frisch's work seems to be as rich and diverse as his life, however in English have been few works have been published and have Weird done intermittently. Dürrenmatt, generational and even fellow guild has probably had more publicity and therefore it is necessary to thank the editorial Laetoli publishing this book, and the express request made to a translation Fernando Aramburu. (AFP)
