Beckett

Is this the one of wich I shoul read 'Waiting for Godot'? I like his idea of nothingness, it's a good summary of my life. If I should write a novel one day it would have 333 pages and on the first page I would write 'J'attends' and on the last 'encore' (absolutely in French) and the 331 in between would be blank. After that I will be famous and rich.

Could literature still exist if it would be possible to reach what lies beyond language? I've always seen art as an attempt to reach that unknow place. Yet it seems to me that art only can touch that place but is never able to grasp it.
Second I don't see why a minimalistic style of writing is more desirable than others.

".....even if what lies beyond may only be silence and nothingness. In this respect writers have lagged behind painters and musicians (he points to Beethoven and the silences in his scores)."

I try to understand this frase but I just don't seem to grasp it.
I have questions though:
How to compare writing, i.e. language, with music?
How to compare silence and nothingness in language with Beethoven's use of silences?

I don't see/hear a specific use of silences in Beethovens music.
There is something specific with Beethovens use of accents (extra loud sounds).
But silences...., which pieces is Beckett referring to?
And what would Beckett consider nothingness in Beethovens music?
I would say the oposite is true.

John of the Cross

To me tearing apart the veil by still using a language is similar to flagalation. You want to go beyond the body so you deny it's pleasures, turning yourself into a gnostic you end up burying yourself deeper in the body. I don't think Augustine succeeded either or anyone from Aplaton on. It's to invest oneself in the wrong direction, you want to go beyond what's human shoot a bullet in your head.

Aplaton = Plato

Eh, sorry,

I didn't realize I used the same words.

I remember RHDcH once wrote on his blog that his mother tongue was imposed to him, as an alien object. I remember similar thoughts. That is maybe why some people want to change language. To get rid of an imposed something and explore other words and connotations.
(I do fear, behind the last veil, there is the eternal void)

Bernard

I think that for people who express themselves bestly in words, language is a tool made to repress feelings. The more you invest yourself in a language the less the threat of feeling expresses itself.

Bernard f

That's an interesting thought. If it's true, Beckett's turn to French could only work for his fellow English speakers. His French readers, in order to avoid the same "apotheosis of the word", would have to read Beckett's (French) works in translation. Sooner or later, Beckett would have to turn his back on French, too.

@ Eric. W.

To answer your question about the Beethoven-pieces, please read the following (even if you might not understand the Dutch language, you'll find your answers there):

In de literaire zoektocht naar die stiltes speelt muziek, met name die van Beethoven, een belangrijke rol. In zijn brief aan Axel Kaun verwees Beckett opnieuw naar de stiltes in Beethovens muziek: -Is er een of andere reden waarom die gruwelijk willekeurige materialiteit van de woordenlaag niet tot ontbinding mag worden gebracht - zoals bijvoorbeeld in Beethovens zevende symfonie de klanklaag wordt aangevreten door grote duistere rusten - zodat we haar pagina=s lang niet anders zouden kunnen waarnemen dan als een dergelijk duizelingwekkend pad van geluiden dat onpeilbare afgronden van stilzwijgen verbindt?= (Disjecta 84).

Toen Beckett in februari 1934 in Londen verbleef, ging hij regelmatig naar concerten, onder meer naar enkele uitvoeringen van de late strijkkwartetten van Beethoven. Peggy Sinclair was nog geen jaar tevoren gestorven aan tuberculose, toen hij in een brief aan haar broer Morris de woorden copieerde die Beethoven op het manuscript van het strijkkwartet opus 135 schreef: -Der schwergefasste Entschluss=, de vraag -Muss es sein= en daarop het antwoord van het laatste allegro: -Es muss sein=.

-Muss es sein= duikt als een wrang motto telkens weer op in de brieven van Beckett, op de pijnlijkste momenten van zijn leven. Algemeen wordt aangenomen dat -Es= de dood is, die Beethoven in zijn laatste strijkkwartet niet zonder moeite aanvaardde. Wat Beckett hiermee op zijn beurt aanvaardde, was niet zozeer de dood, maar eerder -this atrocious affair of life=. In de eerste schets voor Play, die Beckett neerschreef in een restaurant op 30 april 1962, keert het motief terug: -New play. Must it. [...] Play of light and dark. Must speak when light on (life) - (Must accept life).= (Knowlson 498)

Dear S. Werther ,

thank you for posting this text.
If I may I would like to ask a few questions:

# "In de literaire zoektocht naar die stiltes..." What are 'die stiltes'?
# "...verwees Beckett opnieuw naar de stiltes in Beethovens muziek..." How did he refer before 'naar de stiltes in Beethovens muziek?
# In which movement and barnumbers wordt in Beethovens zevende symfonie de klanklaag aangevreten door grote duistere rusten?
# "...zodat we haar pagina=s lang...." 'haar' refers to "de woordenlaag". Correct?

yours,

Eric

Eric

Please read Coetzee's article (or Beckett's letters):
"Beckett's letters are packed with comments on artworks he has seen, music he has heard, books he has read. Among the earlier of these, some are just silly, the pronouncements of a cocky tyro—"Beethoven's Quartets are a waste of time," for example."

Veerle

Nothingness should not be perceived as a threat. How is your work? Are you a friend with or without benefits?

Arnon

I'm not afraid of nothingness, it's part of life and in my case it appears actualy to be my life wich is a bit much (or little as you wish), I'm not in a very good period, but it will pass like everything, I just have to wait I guess. My work is fine or sucks -as you wish-, thank you for asking. And I think I'm simply not so good with the concept friendship, with or without benefits, sometimes I'm a partner and at that moment I consider myself as a fuckbuddy.

Burroughs says language is a virus.

I say language keeps you from eating rotting goods.

@ Eric W.

I will try and answer your questions.

1 & 2
‘die stiltes’ and the earlier reference to Beethoven have to do with the first book of Beckett, Sedendo et Quiescendo or Dream of Fair to Middling Women (finished in June 1932, unpublished during his life). The protagonist Belacqua wants to write a book and says (in translation): “De ervaring van mijn lezer zal tussen de frasen plaatsvinden, in de stilte geuit door de tussenruimten, niet de termen van de verklaring” (Dream 138). As one of his examples Belacqua names the compositions of Beethoven “die weggevreten worden door verschrikkelijke stiltes” (Dream 139).
The letter to Axel Kaun dates from July 1937.

3
I can’t inform you about the exact experience Beckett had with Beethoven.

4
I assume so.

In general:
In an interview at the end of his life with James Knowlson, Beckett stated (in translation): “Ik besefte dat Joyce zo ver mogelijk was gegaan in de richting van meer weten, van controle over het materiaal. Hij voegde er steeds aan toe; je moet zijn drukproeven maar bekijken om dat te zien. Ik besefte dat mijn eigen weg in verarming lag, in een gebrek aan kennis en in het wegnemen, veeleer in aftrekken dan in optellen.

If you haven't read it yet: Waiting for Godot will make you experience ‘nothingness’ and ‘stiltes’ . It's better than reading or writing about it.

S Werther

Could you elaborate a bit on Beckett's task to accept life?
Is it possible to not accept life without commiting suicide?

@ mr. Grunberg

Hélàs, I don’t think I’ve read enough to answer your question properly. Some lines/observations are interesting in this respect though.

Belacqua lives "a Beethoven pause," the moments of nothingness between the music. Before and after a man’s earthly life, there is nothing, then life also (if a continuum) must be a nothingness from which there’s no escape, "beschissenes Dasein” (see Sedendo).

Beckett talks about “saying yes to this atrocious affair of life”. If I understand correctly through some of his characters it means that they are finally reduced to silence and waiting.

Can one not accept life and not play suicide? In the spirit of Beckett maybe one can: by trying to kill time - in stead of oneself - without recognizing the impossibility of that task.

I am sorry I have to be more precise. Burroughs said word is a virus.

Awareness?

My God, I really should read Beckett, thank you Oscar, thank you Werther for your clarifications. It is exactly how I'm living, just killing time, meanwhile my consciousness can't be fooled enough, ut if I wait long enough? I even think that I no only kill time to stay alive but also kill everyone and everything -figurative of course- close to me, a real relevation, and that on a sunday, Easter even, bless the internet.

And I thought the question is whether langualge belongs to the world of senses and how one sranscends senses with senses. But maybe Beckett did not try to transcend anything. My professor, Ariela Fridman gave this link a couple of months ago http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5keZfirB8gE because I was breaking my head on Thomas Kings use of English to write native literature (which previously never existed in writing, not to mention in English). My conclusion so far is that Wittgenstein offers some solution with his idea of language games. Perhaps it was just a game.

Is the collaboration with Keaton an attempt to avoid any use of language at all? He still uses meaningful signs.

I found that I don't like J.M. Coetzee being called John. Like one doesn't say Jerome to Salinger.

Beckett should have tried to write in Chinese in stead of French. Chinese in essence is very minimalistic.

Dens,

Do you suggest we should call Arnon 'Grunberg'. That might be wonderful! :))

Dens

I agree -- I made the appropriate changes.

Dear Arnon,

thanks for the suggestion.
I will go for the letters.
Does Beckett give an example of music that is a better way of spending your time?

yours,

Eric

Dear S. Werther,

Thanks for answering the questions.
Is Beckett saying that the 'meaning' or 'narrative' is in what you leave out? More than in what is written down?

yours,

Eric

Eric

I haven't read Beckett's letters yet, so I cannot answer your question.

Dear Arnon,

I see.
If I come across something I'll let you know.

yours,

Eric

@ Eric W.

On answering your last question:
Beckett lets Belacqua say it quite clearly (I repeat:)
“De ervaring van mijn lezer zal tussen de frasen plaatsvinden, in de stilte geuit door de tussenruimten, niet de termen van de verklaring” (Dream 138).

Beckett followed J. Joyce in reading "Beiträge zu einer Kritik der Sprache" von Fritz Mauthner (thoughts and language have no reliable relation with reality. Language is rather an obstacle than a bridge between our mind and reality. Language is not fit for communication. etc.) In my opinion: if you want to tell something, sometimes it is best not to try and name it explicitly. You'll easily miss your point.

You look very kean (what's your age?) to learn more on the subject of the meaning of gaps, negations, blanks and the implicit in a text. I suggest you read Wolfgang Iser on this. Without the blanks, etc. 'meaning' (very well put between brackets by you) is not possible. You can also read Virginia Woolf on Jane Austen about the working of her use of blanks.

Do you think it is possible to create music without gaps, blanks, nothingness? Does every music-piece have a 'meaning'? If so, how is it put forth? Only the notes create it?

Dear S. Werther,

thank you for your answers and suggestions.
To answer the question on music without gaps, blanks, nothingness I would like to know to what definition of nothingness you (and Beckett) are referring to: a void (= gap) or also something that is nothing, insignificant, without meaning.

There is quite a lot of music without gaps or blanks.
But a gab in music is never insignificant.

As you probably know there is -as long as there is music- a discussion if music can mean or express something -or if it is just "tönend bewegte Form".
(It's interesting to read what f.e. Schönberg and Stravinsky have to say on this topic)
To me music always has a 'meaning' although the same piece of music wil not 'mean' the same for two persons. The more detailled one would like to describe the meaning of a musical piece, the more different the descriptions wil be. On a higher (archetypical) level these descriptions could relate.
The nice thing with music is that it can 'mean' something that can't be described with words. Music can't corrupt.
What does Beethoven's String quartet op. 18.1 mean?
I can't really tel you, but this doesn't mean it's meaningless.
Experiment.
In general I would say: to give meaning to objects is how it becomes a reality.
Meaningless objects don't exist. (I'm not sure if this is really true.)

The part that I think is interesting is: "-Is er een of andere reden waarom die gruwelijk willekeurige materialiteit van de woordenlaag niet tot ontbinding mag worden gebracht -" and the way it is compared with "zoals bijvoorbeeld in Beethovens zevende symfonie de klanklaag wordt aangevreten door grote duistere rusten". (Are there also 'kleine duistere rusten' or 'grote heldere rusten'?) or “die weggevreten worden door verschrikkelijke stiltes”.

Dear S. Werther, it's not that I don't want to tell you my age, but why are you interested?

yours,
Eric W.

@ Eric W.

You wrote a lot to comment on or think about first.
I'm not too familiar with writing about music in itself, but find it interesting to compare some of your remarks with writings on literature.

We agree on the significance of gaps in constructions like literature and music, I understand. Today I remembered Cage's 4'33. Do you consider this 'piece' one gap or gapless? What other gapless music are you referring to in particular? is there something like a stream of consiousness in music?
What is it that the two composers you mentioned wrote about?

You were referring to Hanslick. As I read about him he wasn't only telling that music is really forms, that forms are its only content, but that music also contains feelings, is expressive. The form must themselves signify or represent feelings then. Or am I completely wrong?

You write about the 'meaning' of a musical piece that can differ between two persons. Do you agree that meaning also changes within one person, maybe as oft as one listens/read to the same music/lines? Do you believe meaning is not only created by the one person listening/reading but also by the group he is functioning/socializing in? So if the group's meaning changes, his/her meaning changes too?

Then you write:
to give meaning to objects is how it becomes a reality. Your 'it' reffers to the objects I think. I'll have to think about this before I can really comment. At this moment I would say you have to extend your line with the words "to the person that gives this meaning", but I'm not sure. And I'm also not sure meaningless objects don't excist. As said, I'll have to think about it some more.

There are articles about Beckett and Schubert and Beckett's use of Beethoven in one of his plays, Ghost Trio. Maybe it is too specialistic a topic to read for you, but inform me when I'm wrong and I'll give you their findingplace.

My appologies for my inappropriate question about your age. It is of no relevance. I just wondered by your line of questioning and eagerness how young you were.

Dear S. Werther,

Cage's 4'33, the piece crossed my mind when I was writing the previous entry.
I would say that Cage's piece is about non-intentional sound instead of silence.
The piece puts the question forth: 'does silence exist'?
I remember an experiment in a non-acoustic cell in order to experience silence, but it turns out that you hear a lot of noise coming from your own body.
I'm not sure if I would call it a gap or gapless.
Stravinsky would say that this piece is a promise of music, not music yet.

Cage 'music' is different then Beethovens 'music'.
Silence functions very differently.

The term 'stream of consciousness' is not used in music-literature, as far as I know, but I would say some music of Wolfgang Rihm would fit the term -f.e. his string quartets. (Maybe free-jazz could also fit in this category)

Stravinsky: "Music is, by its very nature, essentially powerless to express anything at all. ......music expresses itself.

Stravinsky on music:
"http://ia331318.us.archive.org/2/items/poeticsofmusicin002702mbp/poeticsofmusicin002702mbp.pdf

Schoenberg: "The concept that music expresses something is generally accepted (...) from the viewpoint of pure aesthetics, music does not express the extramusical. But from the viewpoint of psychology, our capacity for mental and emotional associations is as unlimited as our capacity for repudiating them is limited".

Schoenberg on music:
http://www.courses.unt.edu/jklein/files/sites/www.courses.unt.edu.jklein/files/schoenberg.pdf

For Hanslick beauty is within the domain of the form, as for Schumann, Liszt a.o. form is a means not the purpose.

Some of your questions I can't answer, but please do send me the articles of Beckett.

Yours,

Eric

@ Eric W.

Thank you for your long interesting respond and the articles. I could access the Schoenberg, which I will read. The other one gives blank pages. Do you have another working link or could you provide me with the name of the article?

Why would Stravinsky say Cage’s piece is a promise of music?

The articles I was referring to cannot be linked to this site, perhaps due to the fact I use a paid portal. I tried to copy a Pdf on this site, but that is a no-go. I will provide you with the names and sources, if that is something to you:

“Beckett and Schubert” by Noel Witts, Performance Research March 2007, Vol. 12 Issue 1, p 138-144.

“The Idea of Melodic Connection in Samuel Beckett” by Franz Michael Maier, Journal of the American Musicological Society Aug 2008, Vol. 61, No. 2: 373–410.

“Geistertrio. Beethovens Musik in Samuel Becketts zweitem Fernsehspiel” by Michael Maier, Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, , 57. Jahrg., H. 2. (2000), pp. 172-194

I once read that Stravinsky stole his quote or part of it from Oscar Wilde. I don’t remember if it was a true story. Do you?

Which String Qtet of Rihm are you referring to, no. 5?

Mr Werther

Could you please elaborate on what was stolen from me?

Mr. Wilde

After all you've been put through, I am so sorry to inform you about the theft of your words/ideas by mr. S. from "The decay of lying" .
I hope you will still sleep well tonight.

Dear S. Werther

When I use this link I get to Stravinsky's poetics of music:
http://ia331318.us.archive.org/2/items/poeticsofmusicin002702mbp/poeticsofmusicin002702mbp.pdf

(it might take some time to download)

There you can also read about Stravinsky's 'promise of music'.

Schoenberg wrote a lot of essays throughout his life, they are collected in 'Style and idea'.
The quote I wrote is from another book: 'Fundamentals of musical composition'.

Stealing is one of Stravinsky's qualities. I don't know this Wilde anecdote.

Thank you for the articles.

yours,

Eric

@ Eric. W.

Thank you for the working link.

O. Wilde published in 1889:
"Art never expresses anything but itself ."

Thanks again.

Dear S. Werther

Alex Ross in http://www.therestisnoise.com/2004/05/stravinsky.html

Some years later, in his "Autobiography," he issued the notorious epigram "Music is, by its very nature, essentially powerless to express anything at all." Such language was the height of chic in the twenties, although Stravinsky need not have read any Ezra Pound to articulate it. He was simply adding new buzzwords to the aestheticism of the Diaghilev circle, and Oscar Wilde may be cited as his ultimate source. "Art never expresses anything but itself," Wilde had written, in 1891. "It has an independent life . . . and develops purely on its own lines."

yours,

Eric

@ Eric W.

Wilde's essay was published in 1891, but appeared already in 1889, so not written in 1891.
Intresting phrase that Wilde was mr. S's 'source'.
Of course Wilde had his 'sources' like Th. Gautier and E.A. Poe, he is not alone or the first in his thoughts, but he didn't copy his line from them.

In the article you sent, there is this part about Stravinsky:
"In 1924, he wrote an essay on his Octet for Winds, in which he announced, "My Octet is not an ‘emotive’ work but a musical composition based on objective elements which are sufficient in themselves."

It reminded me of his friend, T.S. Eliot's way of working (as explained by himself) and written about in the 'Tradition and the Individual Talent' from 1920:
http://www.bartleby.com/200/sw4.html
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; etc.

Dear S. Werther

This day I had to think about two things; one of them is this frase of O. Wilde being Stravinsky's source.
I don't agree with this.
I wrote before that one of Stravinsky's quality's was stealing.
But I forgot to add that Stravinsky was a Master-thief:
once he touched something it became his.

The way Alex Ross is putting it ('the height of chic' and 'simply adding new buzzwords') is much to simple to describe the world of Stravinsky.
I think it says more about Alex Ross than it says something about Stravinsky.

yours,

Eric

@ Eric W.

A Master-thief is someone who touches something after which it becomes his, you state.

Here in the Netherlands, you can steal somebody’s bike (in broad daylight) by simply pushing the owner off. The thief holds the bike in his possession (touches it) and is considered to be the owner until the former owner can proof the bike is his. It doesn’t make him a Master-thief I think.

I tend to agree that the sentences of Alex Ross are weak, but because of different reasons. It seems like Ross didn’t do enough research to state his conclusion(s). The * may be* in ‘Oscar Wilde may be cited as his ultimate source’ is just hanging loose in the air, and doesn’t add a thing; it’s sounds like an estimated guess, nothing more. Ross puts in the popular sounding ‘simply adding in new buzzwords’ to conceal the fact he hasn’t found a decent source, otherwise he would have mentioned it.

Baudelaire f.i. did write about Gautier and Poe, which is far more interesting to see how one artist can influance another, than Ross’ guesses.

I understand about the phrase ‘the promise of music’ now.

Did you relisten to Beethoven with Beckett’s ideas on your mind? I’m curious: did it change anything in your perception?

Dear S. Wether,

What sound does a cow make?
In English a cow goes moo.
In India a cow goes amba.
Not everything saying moo or amba is a cow.

Today I listened to Beethovens 33 Veränderungen über einen Walzer von Anton Diabelli C-Dur op.120.
(it's fits my ever changing state).
Strange and wonderfull music.
Beckett didn't cross my mind once.
Next time I try to think about him.

yours,
Eric

@ Eric W.

Never heard a cow from India utter a sound.
Eric, you like cows?
I prefer horses.

Two years ago, in Phoenix, I talked to a young Indian boy. He was telling me about his horse, the sound he made to pronounce the word 'horse' was exactly like horses sounding overhere.

Maybe I should have asked him about cows too. I will, next time I'm overthere.

S. Werther ,

It's not relevant if you or I like cows.
You understand the point made.

Eric

http://www.arnongrunberg.com/blog/791-flu?page=2#bottom
- you can't go back, you can look, but not touch
+
-
+ ok
- were you upset, Eric
+ punishment number 2, still 7 to go
- don't cry
+ I'm moved Pablo, not upset
- That's nice Eric, your doing fine
+ is it 29/04/2009 now
- Yes, Eric.
+ Today is ok
- it is today
+ yes Pablo
- Bye, Eric

Dearest E.

Eric?
Are you there?
You're OK?

Pablo forced you through a door...
It seems you've been expelled, banned from Flu. First deadly Flu-victim was anounced today in M., so maybe it's better you got out, although loosing the hidden corner IS a punishment indeed. What else to come??

I dropped the envelope as soon as I could. Meeting Georgia was lovely. Now I'm driving a few states with 4 men, one of them is not to be seen but definitely there. The trip goes from Oconaluftee River to Choktawhatchee Bay.

A black car, I think an old Ford, is following us for 2 days now. Today we tried to outwit his driver by turning once around every roundabout and unexpectately we managed to find a hidingplace at The Isle of Eight (the day after) Flags with 13,5 miles of beach. Been looking for sharkteeth with a few woman and kids, which was fun. Found a few. The Russians are lobster red at the back way down and need severe cooling. The Beach is defenitely better than the Piscine after 73 p. But I'll hope for improvement and have Anne S. too.

I contacted my neighbor to check my mail. She told me her daughter didn't come home from a concert 3 days ago. Do you have a clue where to find Eric D.?

Eric, take care,
loads of energy &
positive thoughts!

your J.

- Jeanette....
* Pablo! Didn't expect you here
- Jeanette....
* I thought the indian would protect me
+ Jeanette!!!
* yes, Pablo
- I never force people through a door. Eric simply understood the sign
* Is he ok?
- I don't know, he has to do it alone. Tomorrow punishment three is waiting for him.
* is it worse then number two?
- much worse.
* Do you know something about Eric D.? The package?
- you ask to much
* Is he still alive? What about my neighbor's daughter? The black car?
- you ask to much
* Pablo, you are not smiling.....
-
* Pablo?

Dear Pablo

Did I talk to you??
I can hardly remember.
maybe it was in "dreamtime"?

Sorry I ask to many questions. It's my way of living.
I know Eric trusts you and I understand door nr. 7 is too good an opportunity to let it pass. He'll be fine. Cut the punishments!

The man in the black Ford came up to me this evening, introduced himself as Herrn L. L. (something to do with a corpse). He presented me a wrapped book, that I am to open as soon as I'm home. I don't want to take it with me. It already gives me deja vu's of shoesizes, Parisian lovers and blindfolds.

I found some lines close to the sandy whiteblue yesterday. Are their yours?

" But my name remains Pablo,
I am just as I was,
with my doubts, with my debts,
with my loves,
having a whole sea to myself with its
personnel moving the waves,
pummeled by storms that blow me
towards nations still to be born:
I come and I go with the sea and the countries it grazes,
I know
the thorn's languages,
the bite of the obdurate fish,
the chill of the latitudes,
the blood in the coral, the taciturn
night of the whale.
I have pushed past the deltas, from country to country,
the unbearable wastes of the world,
and never found peace. I have always come back.
What can I say without roots?"

J.

+ Pablo
- yes Eric
+ I've been there
- and....
+ I met a pirate from years ago
- I know, Eric. Was it as you expected?
+ She turned into a lesbian, Pablo.
- I know
+ and she has grown which was actually good to see
- very good Eric, you see: a punishment isn't necessarily bad.
+ ...... Pablo?
- yes, Eric
+ ...... never mind

- Jeanette
* yes Pablo
- you are not in the position to give orders
*
- the lines speak about me, they are not from me
* whose are they?
- you have to tell me, Jeanette

@ Just Pablo

Finally I'm back from stepping over the threshold of my door,
- which was quite an experience, I must say -
to find my house totally inaccesable:
it is filled with fine yellow sand
from the top to the bottom.

My neighbour said it happened overnight,
when the wind blew from the north.
She also told me she can hear water dripping,
on the other side of her bedroom,
which doesn't make any sense...

Tomorrow we'll force the gardendoors
that look like they have some sort of inscription on them
(but I can't see it clear at night)
and start digging.

Any word/sign from Eric D. yet?

- Jeanette
* Yes Pablo
- if you want to know more about Eric D. you have to tell me: who wrote these lines about me

* Pablo
- Yes?
* Your question somehow looks like a riddle of which you know the answer and I never will. Or maybe the x-act answer doesn't matter, is that what you are telling me?
- Try again, Jeanette.
* Today the first book that emerged from the sand was one of H.H. , opened on a page with the next sentences:
"Why was Pablo talking so much?" H. wonders. "Was it not I who made him talk, spoke, indeed, with his voice? Was it not, too, my own soul that contemplated me out of his black eyes ?"

Pablo, am I close?

- Jeanette
* your doing fine
- thank you Pablo
* I play something for you
- shall I close my eyes?
* do you have a choice?
-
*

* Pablo?
- Yes, Jeanette...
* I finished clearing the sand from my livingroom
- You found anything unusual, Jeanette?
* Well, euh, I found Eric D.'s shoes next to the fireplace
- And...
* There 's a book in the fireplace that is almost completely burnt
- What about the inscriptions on you gardendoors?
* One says PJ /13 V /at P.
- Will you go?
* Do I have a choice?
Is PJ Just Pablo?

Dear Jeanette,

I'm close to discover the truth about Eric D. and my package.
I think the sand is another punishment:
a typical one of this mafia-clan I wrote about before.
I have the feeling that it was my fault that it landed in your house.
I'm sorry, terribly sorry for that, be careful with it!!
You write: "Tomorrow we'll force the gardendoors"
Who is 'we'? Can you trust him/her? Is it the indian?
Where are you now? Safe?
The inscriptions seem crucial, as the shoes are....
What about the dripping water?
Is it possible to identify the book?

take care,

E.W.

Eric

Hi, dear, how are you?
Are you anyway in or close to Europe? If so, why not get your sorry ass to my house to help me digging (and escort me to this 'PJ-encounter')?
I guess you'll be too busy retracking E.D. 's whereabouts. Be carefull, will you!

The 'we' I'm, talking about are my redheaded neighbor L. and me. She took out her electrical saw - the one she uses to chop up her X-mas-tree in January so it fits her GFT-box - and cut my doors. If I'm safe with her? Well, she knows her way with the saw, so one can never tell, but I hope to believe so. I've never seen her ex husband by the way, I always imagine he lies around in her basement.
She received a postcard from Egypt stating her daughter is fine. The card looks very dated though.

All I can say about the book, is that it's written in Dutch and I can read "Ali" on the back. Today I'll have to clear the stairs, bath- and bedrooms . I don't feel fine about it, I don't know what we will find there. I heard the water dripping, but nothing's getting wet, so it seems....

Update me if you will. I will tell you about the Cherokee another time...

tlc, J.

dear J.

is tlc something like gft?
i think pj is not like jp
help you with your house is impossible
i'm sure you'll get more trouble coming your way if i would help
13/V/P
P of Pleasure
P of Paradise
P of Please
P of Punishment
i update you as soon as my situation allows me to

e.

Dear E.

TLC isn't anything like GFT, although on second thought: both can be fertile. Most people rather receive TLC than GFT, at least I think, but some can do without - which doesn't include me.

I understand PJ will be accompanied by a JP... Just two more days....

Yesterday I could only clear the stairs. There was no sand, but the finest of powders, green, pink, white... like chalk, without any taste. It's very difficult to move, because it is so fine.
As the stairs slowly reappeared after hours of work, I found a drill on one of the steps. Furthermore some graffiti telling me a certain Fahrenkrog had been there. Who ever he may be, he ruined my wall!

A second graffiti said "Paradiso, this way" with an arrow to the frontdoor, "Inferno, this way" with an arrow to the bathroom. Shall I leave that door closed for a while...?

How's your Italian by the way? And are you in Europe?

** your J.

Dear Jeanette,

Ok, here is the story:

Eric D. was kidnapped the moment he left your house.
He was abducted by the famous Fanelli-brothers and sisters.
A notorious mafia-clan with connections to Silvio, the old Italian wonderboy (the story goes that he had several affairs with the Fanelli-twins) and many others.
The Fanelli's are famous for there unscrupulous treatment of their hostages. Fabricio once answered, after someone made a remark about his sadist reputation, 'I don't see the problem: he still has three fingers left, hasn't he....' The twins are even worse they say....

The sand in your house was a coded warning to me: fish don't swim in sand; which means 'stay away'.
The reason for Eric D.'s abduction was of course the package. It contained a novel of a Dutch writer with 'Ali' in her name. This was a cover up. Hidden in the novel was the original formula of the poison Don Juan used to seduce the women he was after. It was considered lost, but I found out where it was. Unfortunately I was betrayed. Somebody told the old Italian wonderboy about it. He phoned the Franelli's (the phone call was actually filmed and shown on tv!) and they immediately came into action. Unfortunately Eric D. didn't survive. They couldn't find the formula, or better said: they didn't recognise the formula. They cut D. to pieces, very small pieces, ate most of it and send some of the pieces to different people to increase their status. They burnt the book, so they said and so you confirmed. I had to kill them all, as you will understand.
My Italian has improved since....

I wouldn't leave the door closed. Better open it.
And yes, I'm in Europe at the moment.

with warm greetings,

Eric

Dear Jeanette,

Ok, here is the story:

Eric D. was kidnapped the moment he left your house.
He was abducted by the famous Fanelli-brothers and sisters.
A notorious mafia-clan with connections to Silvio, the old Italian wonderboy (the story goes that he had several affairs with the Fanelli-twins) and many others.
The Fanelli's are famous for there unscrupulous treatment of their hostages. Fabricio once answered, after someone made a remark about his sadist reputation, 'I don't see the problem: he still has three fingers left, hasn't he....' The twins are even worse they say....

The sand in your house was a coded warning to me: fish don't swim in sand; which means 'stay away'.
The reason for Eric D.'s abduction was of course the package. It contained a novel of a Dutch writer with 'Ali' in her name. This was a cover up. Hidden in the novel was the original formula of the poison Don Juan used to seduce the women he was after. It was considered lost, but I found out where it was. Unfortunately I was betrayed. Somebody told the old Italian wonderboy about it. He phoned the Franelli's (the phone call was actually filmed and shown on tv!) and they immediately came into action. Unfortunately Eric D. didn't survive. They couldn't find the formula, or better said: they didn't recognise the formula. They cut D. to pieces, very small pieces, ate most of it and send some of the pieces to different people to increase their status. They burnt the book, so they said and so you confirmed. I had to kill them all, as you will understand.
My Italian has improved since....

I wouldn't leave the door closed. Better open it.
And yes, I'm in Europe at the moment.

with warm greetings,

Eric

- Jeanette!
* - - - -
- JEANETTE!
* - - - what - - - - where - - -
- Jeanette get out of that shower immediately and turn of the leaking tap!
* but it's so nice to just stay here ....
- Jeanette!
* so nice, the smell, the roses...so sweet
- Jeanette, don't look into your bathtub and get out, I'll take you to a place where you'll be safe
* can I take the curtain? I don't want to leave it here
- that fishy one?
* it's not mine, but it is so sweet,
the novel on its back, it's so great, and it's smell, the roses ...
- now hurry Jeanette:

http://www.arnongrunberg.com/blog/1042-flu