Andreas Unterweger

Washington, D.C. – preview

Posted in Tingeltangel-Tour, Wie im Siebenten by andreasundschnurrendemia on 29. Oktober 2014

Aufmerksamen Userinnen und Usern wird es schon aufgefallen sein: die Daten für meine US-Tournee stehen.
Ich lese gemeinsam mit Valerie Fritsch am 04.11.2014, 19:30, im Rahmen des WEIN-LESE-FESTS am Austrian Cultural Forum in Washington DC – und zwar Auszüge aus „Wie im Siebenten“ (Droschl 2009, übersetzt von Steph Morris) und Gedichte, entstanden zwischen 2005 und 2012 (fast alle in den manuskripten erschienen, übersetzt von Gertraud Dayé).

Hier zwei Leseproben:

Extract from the novel „Wie im Siebenten“ („Seventh Heaven“)
© Literaturverlag Droschl 2009
Translated by Steph Morris


‘At night we dreamt of the sea,’ I wrote in my first book, ‘and in the morning there were actually mussel shells in our window box, as if the sea we had dreamt of – Judith and I – had rinsed them up there.’ In actual fact it was quite different. In actual fact Judith had placed the mussel shells in the window box herself. Each evening she took a few mussel shells out of the Nutella jars she kept them in, rinsed them one by one under the tap in the hallway which served as our kitchen, and placed them on the sandy bed of the window box, between the last stems of a dogged thyme and a few unidentifiable stumps.

I don’t know why she did that. I have never, as far as I know, asked her. But I do still know what effect it had on me when I saw the mussels in the morning, there in the window box. I don’t know why, but whenever I saw the mussels lying there in the window box, sitting as I did every morning at the window to write, it suddenly no longer seemed impossible, and least not quite impossible, that dreams – our dreams at least, Judith’s and mine – could actually become facts. And when we – Judith and Andreas – were living in our room in the Seventh District, we took it for granted that it was good for dreams to come true.

Back then, at the beginning, we were still quite certain about that.

(Deutsches Original)


First part of the poetic cycle „Beasts“
Written in 2009, published in manuskripte 199 (2013)
Translated by Gertraud Dayé


I killed the mouse with the hatchet
I normally use for cutting wood.
But it was not like cutting wood.

My first stroke was too timid.
The second caused one of its eyes to slip out of its socket.
And also the third stroke was not strong enough.

It was the cat’s fault. The cat likes to play.
It plays with every blade of grass, every dead leaf –
there is no killer’s instinct in it.

That is why I fetched the hatchet,
the blunt, nicked, rusty hatchet,
I normally use for cutting wood.

I wanted the mouse not to suffer.

(Deutsches Original)

Andreas Unterweger – short biography and more poems in english

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