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The Man Without Qualities #1-4
乇噩賱 亘賱丕 氐賮丕鬲
"賵夭毓賲 丕賱氐丿賷賯 丕賱卮丕亘 丕賱賯丿賷賲 兀賳賴 賷爻乇賴 兀毓馗賲 丕賱爻乇賵乇 丨賯丕賸 兀賳 賷乇賶 賮賷卮賱 賲賳 噩丿賷丿貙 賵賲卮賰丕 賮賷卮賱 賲賳 丕賱鬲胤賵乇 丕賱乇丿賷亍 賱賱夭賲賳 賵賲賳 丕賱毓賲賱 丕賱孬賯賷賱 賵賲賳 廿賳丨賱丕賱 丕賱兀禺賱丕賯 亘氐賵乇丞 賲胤賱賯丞 賯丕卅賱丕賸 兀賳 賰賱 卮賷亍 賯丿 亘丕鬲 賲賮乇胤丕賸 賮賷 丕賱賲丕丿賷丞 賵丕賱卮乇毓貙 賵乇丿賾 兀賵 賱乇賷卮 賯丕卅賱丕賸: "毓賱賶 兀賳賳賷 賰賳鬲 兀丨爻亘 賱賱鬲賵賾 兀賳 賮賷 賵爻毓賷 兀賳 兀丨爻丿賰 廿匕 賱丕 亘丿 賱賲賴賳丞 丕賱鬲丕噩乇 兀賳 鬲賰賵賳 賲氐丨丕賸 丨賯賷賯賷丕賸 賱賱賳賮爻 亘賱丕 乇賷亘! 賮賴賷 毓賱賶 丕賱兀賯賱 丕賱賲賴賳丞 丕賱賵丨賷丿丞 匕丕鬲 丕賱兀爻丕爻 丕賱賳馗賷賮 賲賳 丕賱賳丕丨賷丞 丕賱賳馗乇賷丞貙 賵兀賰丿 賮賷卮賱 賯丕卅賱丕賸: "廿賳賴丕 賰匕賱賰!"貙 賵兀囟丕賮 賯丕卅賱丕賸 亘廿賰鬲卅丕亘: "賮丕賱鬲丕噩乇 賷禺丿賲 丕賱鬲賯丿賲 丕賱亘卮乇賷 賵賷賰鬲賮賷 亘賲賳賮毓丞 賲卮乇賵毓丞 賵賴賵 賷毓丕賳賷 賮賷 賴匕丕 丕賱爻亘賷賱 賲毓丕賳丕丞 賲爻丕賵賷丞 賱賰賱 丕賲乇卅 丌禺乇 毓賱賶 賵噩賴 丕賱丿賯丞!".
賵賰丕賳 兀賵賱乇賷卮 賯丿 兀毓乇亘 毓賳 廿爻鬲毓丿丕丿賴 賱賲乇丕賮賯鬲賴 廿賱賶 丕賱亘賷鬲貙 賵丨賷賳 賵氐賱丕 廿賱賶 賴賳丕賰 賵噩丿丕 噩賵丕賸 賲鬲賵鬲乇丕賸 廿賱賶 兀賯氐賶 丕賱丨丿賵丿貙 賰丕賳 賯丿 丨囟乇 賰賱 丕賱兀氐丿賯丕亍貙 賵賰丕賳鬲 鬲丿賵乇 乇丨賶 賲毓乇賰丞 賰賱丕賲賷丞 賰亘乇賶貙 賵賰丕賳 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲丕 夭丕賱賵丕 賷鬲乇丿賾丿賵賳 毓賱賶 丕賱賲丿乇爻丞 丕賱孬丕賳賵賷丞 兀賵 賰丕賳賵丕 賮賷 丕賱丿賵乇丕鬲 丕賱兀賵賱賶 賲賳 丕賱賲毓丕賴丿 丕賱毓賱賷丕 賵賰丕賳 亘毓囟賴賲 賷賯賵賲 亘賵馗賷賮丞 丕賱鬲噩丕乇.
兀賲丕 賰賷賮 丕賱鬲兀賲鬲 丨賱賯鬲賴賲 賮匕賱賰 賲丕 賱賲 賷賰賵賳賵丕 賷毓乇賮賵賳賴 亘毓丿賴賲 兀賳賮爻賴賲 賮賰丕賳 賲賳賴賲 賲賳 鬲毓乇賮 毓賱賶 丕賱丌禺乇 賮賷 乇賵丕亘胤 丕賱胤賱丕亘 丕賱賯賵賲賷丞貙 賵丌禺乇賵賳 賮賷 丨乇賰丞 丕賱卮亘丕亘 丕賱廿卮鬲乇丕賰賷丞 兀賵 丕賱賰丕孬賵賱賵賰賷丞 賵賮卅丞 孬丕賱孬丞 囟賲賳 胤丕卅賮丞 賲賳 丕賱噩賵丕賱賷賳貙 賵賱丕 賷禺胤卅 丕賱賲乇亍 鬲賲丕賲丕賸 丨賷賳 賷賮鬲乇囟 兀賳 丕賱賯丕爻賲 丕賱賲卮鬲乇賰 亘賷賳賴賲 噩賲賷毓丕賸 賰丕賳 賱賵賮賷卮賱貙 賵匕賱賰 兀賳 丕賱丨乇賰丞 丕賱賮賰乇賷丞 鬲丨鬲丕噩 廿匕丕 賰丕賳 賷乇丕丿 賱賴丕 兀賳 鬲丿賵賲 廿賱賶 噩爻賲貙 賵賰丕賳 賴匕丕 丕賱噩爻賲 賴賵 賲爻賰賳 賮賷卮賱貙 亘丕賱廿囟丕賮丞 廿賱賶 丨丕噩鬲賴丕 廿賱賶 丕賱毓賳丕賷丞 賵廿賱賶 賯丿乇 賲毓賷賾賳 賲賳 囟亘胤 丨乇賰丞 丕賱廿鬲氐丕賱 毓賳 胤乇賷賯 丕賱爻賷丿丞 賰賱賷賲賳鬲賷賳丕貙 賵賰丕賳 賷賳鬲賲賷 廿賱賶 賴匕丕 丕賱賲爻賰賳 丨賷乇賵丕 賵廿賱賶 丨賷乇賵丕 賰丕賳 賷賳鬲賲賷 賴丕賳夭 夭賷亘 丕賱胤丕賱亘 丕賱賲鬲爻賲 亘賱賵賳 丕賱亘卮乇丞 睾賷乇 丕賱賳賯賷貙 賵丕賱乇賵丨 丕賱兀賰孬乇 賳賯丕亍賸貙 賵賲丕 賰丕賳 丕賱賯丕卅丿 賮賷 丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賱兀賳 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賱丕 賷毓鬲乇賮賵賳 亘賯丕卅丿貙 睾賷乇 兀賳賴 賰丕賳 賷賲孬賱 丕賱毓丕胤賮丞 丕賱噩丕賲丨丞 丕賱兀賯賵賶 亘賷賳賴賲貙 賵賱丕 乇賷亘 兀賳賴賲 賰丕賳賵丕 賷賱賷賯賵賳 賮賷 兀賲丕賰賳 兀禺乇賶 兀賷囟丕賸 賲賳 丨賷賳 廿賱賶 丌禺乇貙 賵賰丕賳鬲 賳爻賵丞 丌禺乇賷丕鬲 爻賵賶 噩賷乇賵丕 賷丨賱賱賳 囟賷賵賮丕賸貙 賵賱賰賳 亘賴匕賴 丕賱胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 賵氐賮鬲 賰丕賳 賯丿 鬲賲 廿賳卮丕亍 賳賵丕丞 丕賱丨乇賰丞 賵毓賱賶 丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 賰賱 匕賱賰貙 賰丕賳 賲賲丕 賷賱賮鬲 丕賱賳馗乇 廿賱賶 丨丿賾賺 亘毓賷丿 丕賱賲賰丕賳 丕賱匕賷 噩丕亍 賲賳賴 乇賵丨 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲孬賱賲丕 賷賰賵賳 馗賴賵乇 賲乇囟 噩丿賷丿貙 兀賵 賲孬賱賲丕 賷賰賵賳 馗賴賵乇 爻賱爻賱丞 胤賵賷賱丞 賲賳 丕賱廿氐丕亘丕鬲 賮賷 賱毓亘丞 賲賳 兀賱毓丕亘 丕賱丨馗.
賮丨賷賳 兀禺匕鬲 卮賲爻 丕賱賲孬丕賱賷丞 丕賱兀賵乇賵亘賷丞 丕賱賯丿賷賲丞 鬲禺亘賵貙 賵兀禺匕 丕賱賮賰乇 丕賱兀亘賷囟 賷卮賷毓 丕賱馗賱丕賲貙 兀禺匕 賰孬賷乇 賲賳 丕賱賲卮丕毓乇 鬲鬲丿丕賵賱賴 亘丿賹 毓賳 賷丿 兀禺乇賶貙 賲卮丕毓乇 賲賳 丕賱賮賰乇 賵丕賱賱賴 鬲毓丕賱賶 賷毓賱賲 賲賳 兀賷賳 爻乇賯鬲 兀賵 兀賷賳 丕禺鬲乇毓鬲 1-賵賷卮賰賱 賴賳丕 賵賴賳丕賰 亘丨賷乇丞 丕賱賳丕乇 丕賱賲鬲乇丕賯氐丞 毓賱賵賾丕賸 賵廿賳禺賮丕囟丕賸 賮賷 賲噩鬲賲毓 賮賰乇賷 氐睾賷乇.
賵賴賰匕丕貙 賰丕賳 賷丿賵乇 丕賱丨丿賷孬 賮賷 丕賱爻賳賵丕鬲 丕賱兀禺賷乇丞 賯亘賱 兀賳 鬲爻鬲禺賱氐 丕賱丨乇亘 丕賱賰亘乇賶 丕賱賳賳鬲賷噩丞 賲賳 匕賱賰 賮賷 賰孬賷乇 賲賳 丕賱兀丨賷丕賳 毓賳 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 兀賷囟丕賸貙 賵賰丕賳 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲賳 丕賱賲毓丕丿賷賳 賱賱爻丕賲賷丞 賮賷 亘賷鬲 賲丿賷乇 丕賱賲氐乇賮貙 賳賷卮賱貙 賷丨賲賱賵賳 賱賵丕亍 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 丕賱卮丕賲賱賷賳 賱賰賱 卮賷亍貙 賮丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 丕賱丨賯 賷賲孬賱 毓賲賱 卮乇賷毓賷丞 丿丕禺賱賷丞 賵兀毓賲賯 丕賱卮乇丕卅毓 賵兀亘爻胤賴丕 賵兀賰賲賱賴丕 賵兀賵賱賴丕 卮乇賷毓丞 丕賱丨亘...
賵亘丕賱胤亘毓貙 賮廿賳 丕賱賲乇亍 賱丕 賷爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賷丨亘 賰賱 廿賳爻丕賳貙 賵賱賰賳賴 賷爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賷賰賳 丕賱廿丨鬲乇丕賲 丕賱卮禺氐賷丞 賰賱 丕賲乇卅 賲丕 丿丕賲 賷鬲爻賲 亘丕賱胤賲賵丨 毓賱賶 兀賳賴 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱丨賯... 丕賱夭賲丕賳 賴賵 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱鬲丕爻毓 毓卮乇 賵丕賱賲賰丕賳 兀賵乇賵亘丕: 丕賱賳賲爻丕 賵兀賱賲丕賳賷丕貙 廿賳噩賱鬲乇賴...
賷毓賰爻 丕賱乇賵丕卅賷 丕賱賲賳丕禺丕鬲 丕賱鬲賷 賰丕賳鬲 鬲爻賵丿 賮賷 鬲賱賰 丕賱丌賵賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 卮賴丿鬲 賮賷賴丕 兀賵乇賵亘丕 匕賱賰 丕賱鬲丨賵賱 丕賱鬲丕乇賷禺賷貙 賵丕賱匕賷 卮賴丿鬲 賮賷賴 孬賵乇丕鬲 賵廿囟胤乇丕亘丕鬲 賳鬲賷噩丞 丕賱毓賵丕賲賱 丕賱廿噩鬲賲丕毓賷丞... 廿賳賴 丕賱氐乇丕毓 亘賷賳 丕賱兀乇爻鬲賯乇丕胤賷丞 賵丕賱亘乇噩賵丕夭賷丞 亘賷賳 丕賱鬲丿賷賳 賵丕賱毓賱賲丕賳賷丞... 賵亘賷賳 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱賲鬲毓丕賱賽 賵丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱賲爻丨賵賯.
賵賰丕賳 兀賵賱乇賷卮 賯丿 兀毓乇亘 毓賳 廿爻鬲毓丿丕丿賴 賱賲乇丕賮賯鬲賴 廿賱賶 丕賱亘賷鬲貙 賵丨賷賳 賵氐賱丕 廿賱賶 賴賳丕賰 賵噩丿丕 噩賵丕賸 賲鬲賵鬲乇丕賸 廿賱賶 兀賯氐賶 丕賱丨丿賵丿貙 賰丕賳 賯丿 丨囟乇 賰賱 丕賱兀氐丿賯丕亍貙 賵賰丕賳鬲 鬲丿賵乇 乇丨賶 賲毓乇賰丞 賰賱丕賲賷丞 賰亘乇賶貙 賵賰丕賳 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲丕 夭丕賱賵丕 賷鬲乇丿賾丿賵賳 毓賱賶 丕賱賲丿乇爻丞 丕賱孬丕賳賵賷丞 兀賵 賰丕賳賵丕 賮賷 丕賱丿賵乇丕鬲 丕賱兀賵賱賶 賲賳 丕賱賲毓丕賴丿 丕賱毓賱賷丕 賵賰丕賳 亘毓囟賴賲 賷賯賵賲 亘賵馗賷賮丞 丕賱鬲噩丕乇.
兀賲丕 賰賷賮 丕賱鬲兀賲鬲 丨賱賯鬲賴賲 賮匕賱賰 賲丕 賱賲 賷賰賵賳賵丕 賷毓乇賮賵賳賴 亘毓丿賴賲 兀賳賮爻賴賲 賮賰丕賳 賲賳賴賲 賲賳 鬲毓乇賮 毓賱賶 丕賱丌禺乇 賮賷 乇賵丕亘胤 丕賱胤賱丕亘 丕賱賯賵賲賷丞貙 賵丌禺乇賵賳 賮賷 丨乇賰丞 丕賱卮亘丕亘 丕賱廿卮鬲乇丕賰賷丞 兀賵 丕賱賰丕孬賵賱賵賰賷丞 賵賮卅丞 孬丕賱孬丞 囟賲賳 胤丕卅賮丞 賲賳 丕賱噩賵丕賱賷賳貙 賵賱丕 賷禺胤卅 丕賱賲乇亍 鬲賲丕賲丕賸 丨賷賳 賷賮鬲乇囟 兀賳 丕賱賯丕爻賲 丕賱賲卮鬲乇賰 亘賷賳賴賲 噩賲賷毓丕賸 賰丕賳 賱賵賮賷卮賱貙 賵匕賱賰 兀賳 丕賱丨乇賰丞 丕賱賮賰乇賷丞 鬲丨鬲丕噩 廿匕丕 賰丕賳 賷乇丕丿 賱賴丕 兀賳 鬲丿賵賲 廿賱賶 噩爻賲貙 賵賰丕賳 賴匕丕 丕賱噩爻賲 賴賵 賲爻賰賳 賮賷卮賱貙 亘丕賱廿囟丕賮丞 廿賱賶 丨丕噩鬲賴丕 廿賱賶 丕賱毓賳丕賷丞 賵廿賱賶 賯丿乇 賲毓賷賾賳 賲賳 囟亘胤 丨乇賰丞 丕賱廿鬲氐丕賱 毓賳 胤乇賷賯 丕賱爻賷丿丞 賰賱賷賲賳鬲賷賳丕貙 賵賰丕賳 賷賳鬲賲賷 廿賱賶 賴匕丕 丕賱賲爻賰賳 丨賷乇賵丕 賵廿賱賶 丨賷乇賵丕 賰丕賳 賷賳鬲賲賷 賴丕賳夭 夭賷亘 丕賱胤丕賱亘 丕賱賲鬲爻賲 亘賱賵賳 丕賱亘卮乇丞 睾賷乇 丕賱賳賯賷貙 賵丕賱乇賵丨 丕賱兀賰孬乇 賳賯丕亍賸貙 賵賲丕 賰丕賳 丕賱賯丕卅丿 賮賷 丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賱兀賳 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賱丕 賷毓鬲乇賮賵賳 亘賯丕卅丿貙 睾賷乇 兀賳賴 賰丕賳 賷賲孬賱 丕賱毓丕胤賮丞 丕賱噩丕賲丨丞 丕賱兀賯賵賶 亘賷賳賴賲貙 賵賱丕 乇賷亘 兀賳賴賲 賰丕賳賵丕 賷賱賷賯賵賳 賮賷 兀賲丕賰賳 兀禺乇賶 兀賷囟丕賸 賲賳 丨賷賳 廿賱賶 丌禺乇貙 賵賰丕賳鬲 賳爻賵丞 丌禺乇賷丕鬲 爻賵賶 噩賷乇賵丕 賷丨賱賱賳 囟賷賵賮丕賸貙 賵賱賰賳 亘賴匕賴 丕賱胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 賵氐賮鬲 賰丕賳 賯丿 鬲賲 廿賳卮丕亍 賳賵丕丞 丕賱丨乇賰丞 賵毓賱賶 丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 賰賱 匕賱賰貙 賰丕賳 賲賲丕 賷賱賮鬲 丕賱賳馗乇 廿賱賶 丨丿賾賺 亘毓賷丿 丕賱賲賰丕賳 丕賱匕賷 噩丕亍 賲賳賴 乇賵丨 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲孬賱賲丕 賷賰賵賳 馗賴賵乇 賲乇囟 噩丿賷丿貙 兀賵 賲孬賱賲丕 賷賰賵賳 馗賴賵乇 爻賱爻賱丞 胤賵賷賱丞 賲賳 丕賱廿氐丕亘丕鬲 賮賷 賱毓亘丞 賲賳 兀賱毓丕亘 丕賱丨馗.
賮丨賷賳 兀禺匕鬲 卮賲爻 丕賱賲孬丕賱賷丞 丕賱兀賵乇賵亘賷丞 丕賱賯丿賷賲丞 鬲禺亘賵貙 賵兀禺匕 丕賱賮賰乇 丕賱兀亘賷囟 賷卮賷毓 丕賱馗賱丕賲貙 兀禺匕 賰孬賷乇 賲賳 丕賱賲卮丕毓乇 鬲鬲丿丕賵賱賴 亘丿賹 毓賳 賷丿 兀禺乇賶貙 賲卮丕毓乇 賲賳 丕賱賮賰乇 賵丕賱賱賴 鬲毓丕賱賶 賷毓賱賲 賲賳 兀賷賳 爻乇賯鬲 兀賵 兀賷賳 丕禺鬲乇毓鬲 1-賵賷卮賰賱 賴賳丕 賵賴賳丕賰 亘丨賷乇丞 丕賱賳丕乇 丕賱賲鬲乇丕賯氐丞 毓賱賵賾丕賸 賵廿賳禺賮丕囟丕賸 賮賷 賲噩鬲賲毓 賮賰乇賷 氐睾賷乇.
賵賴賰匕丕貙 賰丕賳 賷丿賵乇 丕賱丨丿賷孬 賮賷 丕賱爻賳賵丕鬲 丕賱兀禺賷乇丞 賯亘賱 兀賳 鬲爻鬲禺賱氐 丕賱丨乇亘 丕賱賰亘乇賶 丕賱賳賳鬲賷噩丞 賲賳 匕賱賰 賮賷 賰孬賷乇 賲賳 丕賱兀丨賷丕賳 毓賳 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 兀賷囟丕賸貙 賵賰丕賳 丕賱卮亘丕亘 賲賳 丕賱賲毓丕丿賷賳 賱賱爻丕賲賷丞 賮賷 亘賷鬲 賲丿賷乇 丕賱賲氐乇賮貙 賳賷卮賱貙 賷丨賲賱賵賳 賱賵丕亍 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 丕賱卮丕賲賱賷賳 賱賰賱 卮賷亍貙 賮丕賱賲噩鬲賲毓 丕賱丨賯 賷賲孬賱 毓賲賱 卮乇賷毓賷丞 丿丕禺賱賷丞 賵兀毓賲賯 丕賱卮乇丕卅毓 賵兀亘爻胤賴丕 賵兀賰賲賱賴丕 賵兀賵賱賴丕 卮乇賷毓丞 丕賱丨亘...
賵亘丕賱胤亘毓貙 賮廿賳 丕賱賲乇亍 賱丕 賷爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賷丨亘 賰賱 廿賳爻丕賳貙 賵賱賰賳賴 賷爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 賷賰賳 丕賱廿丨鬲乇丕賲 丕賱卮禺氐賷丞 賰賱 丕賲乇卅 賲丕 丿丕賲 賷鬲爻賲 亘丕賱胤賲賵丨 毓賱賶 兀賳賴 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱丨賯... 丕賱夭賲丕賳 賴賵 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱鬲丕爻毓 毓卮乇 賵丕賱賲賰丕賳 兀賵乇賵亘丕: 丕賱賳賲爻丕 賵兀賱賲丕賳賷丕貙 廿賳噩賱鬲乇賴...
賷毓賰爻 丕賱乇賵丕卅賷 丕賱賲賳丕禺丕鬲 丕賱鬲賷 賰丕賳鬲 鬲爻賵丿 賮賷 鬲賱賰 丕賱丌賵賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 卮賴丿鬲 賮賷賴丕 兀賵乇賵亘丕 匕賱賰 丕賱鬲丨賵賱 丕賱鬲丕乇賷禺賷貙 賵丕賱匕賷 卮賴丿鬲 賮賷賴 孬賵乇丕鬲 賵廿囟胤乇丕亘丕鬲 賳鬲賷噩丞 丕賱毓賵丕賲賱 丕賱廿噩鬲賲丕毓賷丞... 廿賳賴 丕賱氐乇丕毓 亘賷賳 丕賱兀乇爻鬲賯乇丕胤賷丞 賵丕賱亘乇噩賵丕夭賷丞 亘賷賳 丕賱鬲丿賷賳 賵丕賱毓賱賲丕賳賷丞... 賵亘賷賳 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱賲鬲毓丕賱賽 賵丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 丕賱賲爻丨賵賯.
791 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1930
1913 people are currently reading
59868 people want to read
About the author
Robert Musil
288听books1,306听followersAustrian writer.
He graduated military boarding school at Eisenstadt (1892-1894) and then Hranice, in that time also known as M盲hrisch Wei脽kirchen, (1894-1897). These school experiences are reflected in his first novel, The Confusions of Young T枚rless.
He served in the army during The First World War. When Austria became a part of the Third Reich in 1938, Musil left for exile in Switzerland, where he died of a stroke on April 15, 1942. Musil collapsed in the middle of his gymnastic exercises and is rumoured to have died with an expression of ironic amusement on his face. He was 61 years old.
He graduated military boarding school at Eisenstadt (1892-1894) and then Hranice, in that time also known as M盲hrisch Wei脽kirchen, (1894-1897). These school experiences are reflected in his first novel, The Confusions of Young T枚rless.
He served in the army during The First World War. When Austria became a part of the Third Reich in 1938, Musil left for exile in Switzerland, where he died of a stroke on April 15, 1942. Musil collapsed in the middle of his gymnastic exercises and is rumoured to have died with an expression of ironic amusement on his face. He was 61 years old.
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November 18, 2023
Everyone in the world has one鈥檚 own individual attitude to the surrounding reality鈥�
Even the outright reactionaries pretend to dig the new until the new starts breaking the old order of things鈥� And The Man Without Qualities is groundbreaking in everything and in all directions. It practically revolutionises an outlook at the entire existing order of things鈥�
Relativity and uncertainty principle rule in the world so everything depends on the vantage point and attitude of observer鈥� And even the simplest thing is always seen by different people differently鈥�
It鈥檚 exactly the way of the modern pop culture 鈥� it always attempts to drag any observer down to its vulgar level and to make one admire even the worst kitsch. And kitsch flourishes.
Revolutionary views? I鈥檓 afraid I must admit that I鈥檓 by no means an out-and-out opponent of revolutionary views. Short of an actual revolution, of course.
Even the outright reactionaries pretend to dig the new until the new starts breaking the old order of things鈥� And The Man Without Qualities is groundbreaking in everything and in all directions. It practically revolutionises an outlook at the entire existing order of things鈥�
The hospital aide clothed in lily-white, who, with the help of acids, thins out a patient鈥檚 stool in a white china dish in order to obtain a purple smear, rubbing it until the right hue rewards her attention, is already living, whether she knows it or not, in a world more open to change than is the young lady who shudders at the sight of the same stuff in the street.
Relativity and uncertainty principle rule in the world so everything depends on the vantage point and attitude of observer鈥� And even the simplest thing is always seen by different people differently鈥�
For the moment one begins to take anything, no matter how foolish or tasteless, seriously and puts oneself on its level, it begins to reveal a rationale of its own, the intoxicating scent of its love for itself, its innate urge to play and to please.
It鈥檚 exactly the way of the modern pop culture 鈥� it always attempts to drag any observer down to its vulgar level and to make one admire even the worst kitsch. And kitsch flourishes.
September 14, 2019
This book is widely regarded as a classic. The author spent twenty years writing it. There are three volumes - of which this review is of volume one, the only one that is widely read.
There are a variety of characters but little plot. The main character is 32-year-old mathematician who is actually unemployed. Like the author, Ulrich was previously a military officer and an engineer and then an unpaid professor. Wiki says his indifference to life has brought him to the state of being "a man without qualities"
Ulrich鈥檚 father thinks he should find some usefulness to his life, so the father uses his political influence to get his son a position on a national committee that is looking to celebrate shortly (in 1918) seventy years of Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph's reign. 鈥淲hat is true patriotism, true progress, the true Austria?鈥� There鈥檚 much talk of blending 鈥淎ustrian culture with Prussian intellectual discipline.鈥� It鈥檚 also an opportunity for the Vienna intellectual crowd to flag its superiority over Germany, 鈥溾€or the European spirit to recognize Austria as its true home!鈥� The meetings and the give and take on this large committee (20 or more people) give the author a chance to lampoon what he saw as the decay of moral values and the silliness of nationalism.
There are a few odd characters who provide interest in the story. One is a female distant cousin of Ulrich who opens her home to host the committee meetings and, in effect, creates a salon. There鈥檚 a Prussian, 鈥渁 crazy rich Jew,鈥� who is clearly the dominant intellectual mover on the committee. This character is also accompanied by a young African man whom he brings with him almost as a 鈥榗uriosity.鈥� And then there is Moosbrugger, a murderer and rapist in the news who has been convicted and condemned for the murder of a prostitute. Ulrich constantly wonders if Moosbrugger can be held responsible for his actions. Ulrich brings this topic up for discussion at the most inopportune times, sometimes making people wonder about Ulrich鈥檚 sanity.
The real value of a book like this is its philosophical insight and intellectual nuggets on essentially every page. A few examples:
鈥淚t is a fundamental characteristic of civilization that a man most profoundly mistrusts those living outside his own milieu, so that not only does the Teuton regard the Jew as an incomprehensible and inferior being , but the football-player likewise so regards the man who pays the piano.鈥�
[With science] 鈥淲e have gained in terms of reality and lost in terms of the dream.鈥�
鈥淏ut in science it happens every few years that something up to then was held to be error suddenly revolutionizes all views or that an unobtrusive, despised idea becomes the ruler over a new realm of ideas; and such occurrences are not mere upheavals but lead up into the heights like Jacob鈥檚 ladder.鈥�
鈥淎t times he felt just as though he had been born with a gift to which at present there was no function.鈥�
鈥淧hilosophers are violent and aggressive persons who, having no army at their disposal, bring the world into subjection to themselves by locking it up into a system.鈥�
鈥溾€ man who does great things usually does not know why. As Cromwell said: 鈥楢 man never rises so high as when he does not know where he is going.鈥欌€�
鈥溾€ame, such as is acquired by intellectual achievements, melts away with remarkable rapidity as soon as one associates with those to whom it attaches鈥︹€�
鈥淎ccordingly civilization meant, for her, everything that her mind could not cope with. And hence too it had for a long time meant, first and foremost, her husband.鈥�
鈥淎 great scientist, when he was once asked how he managed to hit upon so much that was new, replied: 鈥楤y keeping on thinking about it.鈥� And indeed it may safely be said that unexpected inspirations are produced by no other means than the expectation of them.鈥�
鈥淗e recollected Voltaire鈥檚 dictum that people use words only in order to conceal their thoughts and make use of thoughts only in order to justify their acts of injustice.鈥�
This is not a light read, so it鈥檚 something you might read over a week or longer. As for a rating, It鈥檚 kind of a 4 but I鈥檒l round up to 5 for its obvious intellectual 鈥榤eat.鈥�
Painting of a Vienna coffeehouse: The Caf茅 Griensteidl in Vienna, watercolor by Reinhold Voelkel, 1896. Photo by Getty.
Austrian stamp honoring the author from
There are a variety of characters but little plot. The main character is 32-year-old mathematician who is actually unemployed. Like the author, Ulrich was previously a military officer and an engineer and then an unpaid professor. Wiki says his indifference to life has brought him to the state of being "a man without qualities"
Ulrich鈥檚 father thinks he should find some usefulness to his life, so the father uses his political influence to get his son a position on a national committee that is looking to celebrate shortly (in 1918) seventy years of Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph's reign. 鈥淲hat is true patriotism, true progress, the true Austria?鈥� There鈥檚 much talk of blending 鈥淎ustrian culture with Prussian intellectual discipline.鈥� It鈥檚 also an opportunity for the Vienna intellectual crowd to flag its superiority over Germany, 鈥溾€or the European spirit to recognize Austria as its true home!鈥� The meetings and the give and take on this large committee (20 or more people) give the author a chance to lampoon what he saw as the decay of moral values and the silliness of nationalism.
There are a few odd characters who provide interest in the story. One is a female distant cousin of Ulrich who opens her home to host the committee meetings and, in effect, creates a salon. There鈥檚 a Prussian, 鈥渁 crazy rich Jew,鈥� who is clearly the dominant intellectual mover on the committee. This character is also accompanied by a young African man whom he brings with him almost as a 鈥榗uriosity.鈥� And then there is Moosbrugger, a murderer and rapist in the news who has been convicted and condemned for the murder of a prostitute. Ulrich constantly wonders if Moosbrugger can be held responsible for his actions. Ulrich brings this topic up for discussion at the most inopportune times, sometimes making people wonder about Ulrich鈥檚 sanity.
The real value of a book like this is its philosophical insight and intellectual nuggets on essentially every page. A few examples:
鈥淚t is a fundamental characteristic of civilization that a man most profoundly mistrusts those living outside his own milieu, so that not only does the Teuton regard the Jew as an incomprehensible and inferior being , but the football-player likewise so regards the man who pays the piano.鈥�
[With science] 鈥淲e have gained in terms of reality and lost in terms of the dream.鈥�
鈥淏ut in science it happens every few years that something up to then was held to be error suddenly revolutionizes all views or that an unobtrusive, despised idea becomes the ruler over a new realm of ideas; and such occurrences are not mere upheavals but lead up into the heights like Jacob鈥檚 ladder.鈥�
鈥淎t times he felt just as though he had been born with a gift to which at present there was no function.鈥�
鈥淧hilosophers are violent and aggressive persons who, having no army at their disposal, bring the world into subjection to themselves by locking it up into a system.鈥�
鈥溾€ man who does great things usually does not know why. As Cromwell said: 鈥楢 man never rises so high as when he does not know where he is going.鈥欌€�
鈥溾€ame, such as is acquired by intellectual achievements, melts away with remarkable rapidity as soon as one associates with those to whom it attaches鈥︹€�
鈥淎ccordingly civilization meant, for her, everything that her mind could not cope with. And hence too it had for a long time meant, first and foremost, her husband.鈥�
鈥淎 great scientist, when he was once asked how he managed to hit upon so much that was new, replied: 鈥楤y keeping on thinking about it.鈥� And indeed it may safely be said that unexpected inspirations are produced by no other means than the expectation of them.鈥�
鈥淗e recollected Voltaire鈥檚 dictum that people use words only in order to conceal their thoughts and make use of thoughts only in order to justify their acts of injustice.鈥�
This is not a light read, so it鈥檚 something you might read over a week or longer. As for a rating, It鈥檚 kind of a 4 but I鈥檒l round up to 5 for its obvious intellectual 鈥榤eat.鈥�
Painting of a Vienna coffeehouse: The Caf茅 Griensteidl in Vienna, watercolor by Reinhold Voelkel, 1896. Photo by Getty.
Austrian stamp honoring the author from
September 28, 2020
I found that my glasses perfectly fit over Robert Musil's head on the cover of my paperback
WHAT IT IS LIKE
For those yet to try this famous novel you can get an idea of what it鈥檚 like by putting a metal bucket over your head and getting a friend or partner or your children to bang on the bucket for thirty minutes or so using a very sophisticated spoon.
It must be a spoon encrypted with all the subtleties of psychology and indented with the complex analyses of the five major sciences and the handle should be engraved with great mathematical formulae and the coats of arms of the major aristocratic families of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
To complete the demonstration the spoon banger should, during the banging, read out alternating verses of T S Eliot鈥檚 The Fire Sermon and George Formby鈥檚 hit 鈥淲hy Don鈥檛 Women Like Me?鈥�
After the suggested 30 minutes you will have got a reasonable idea, and you can then decide if you wish to proceed with reading the actual book.
Another way of putting it might be to imagine you are in a large room where hot air blowers are blowing thousands and thousands of very intellectual feathers over you, feathers which stick in your hair and clothes and tickle your nose and make you sneeze to the point where you can鈥檛 see the door anymore.
AN ATTEMPT TO PRESERVE MY SANITY
I decided early on that I would limit myself to VOLUME ONE, around 340 pages of this 1500 page unfinished work (1000 pages were published in Mr Musil鈥檚 lifetime and another 500 pages were later kindly supplied by his widow).
My dear friends, Volume One was enough for me for now. I may crack on with volume two in another ten years or so, maybe twenty. It is on my to-do list, but rather low down, between learning Sanskrit and getting a spiderweb neck tattoo.
THE ELUSIVE GOLDEN TAMARIN
So what we have here is a strange lumbering beast. There is not much story to be had, and readers have been known to gasp out loud when they turn a page to see actual dialogue on the next page. Sadly, it is as rare a sight as the golden tamarin in the forests of Brazil. So instead of plot and dialogue what we mostly have here is bucketfuls of character and deluges of musings. Pages and pages. This main guy Ulrich has a thoughtful turn of mind. He鈥檚 a rich 32 year old mathematician and we are in Vienna in 1913, just before the roof fell in on this elaborate aristocratic world he floats around in.
WHAT DO WE MEAN WHEN WE SAY THIS IS A NOVEL OF IDEAS
When I say that Ulrich (and the narrator) like to philosophise, I mean this kind of thing :
all moral events took place in a field of energy the constellation of which charged them with meaning, and they contained good and evil just as an atom contains the potentialities of chemical combination. They were, so to speak, what they became, and just as the one word 鈥榟ard鈥� describes four quite different entities according to whether the hardness relates to love, brutality, eagerness or severity, so the significance of all moral happenings appeared to him the dependent function of others. In this manner an endless system of relationships arose in which there was no longer any such thing as independent meanings, such as in ordinary life, at a crude first approach, are ascribed to actions and qualities. In this system the seemingly solid became a porous pretext for many other meanings; what was happening became the symbol of something that was perhaps not happening but was felt through the medium of the first; and man as the quintessence of human possibilities, potential man, the unwritten poem of his own existence, materialised as a record, a reality, and a character, confronting man in general.
If you are still reading, this massive book is the novel you have been waiting for your whole life.
But it鈥檚 not all like that, no.
WHAT THE HELL 鈥� A DEAD CAT!
Ulrich gets involved with a very dull business called the Parallel Campaign, which is a committee of great ones to celebrate the 30 year reign of Emperor Franz Joseph. Just when you are thinking 鈥渉ow dull is this book going to get?鈥� Musil suddenly throws a dead cat onto the family Christmas dinner table, in the form of a guy called Moosbrugger, who is a sex murderer. Blam 鈥� just like that 鈥� in the middle of all the tinkling chandeliers and the ptarmigan brain pate we are contemplating a very gruesome crime, and the novel begins to talk about curiously modern issues. For instance, this Moosbrugger is a prototype Gary Gilmore, insisting that he be executed when the lawyers are trying to get him pardoned. And then the whole issue of diminished responsibility is debated.
This Moosbrugger part is an excellent strategy, setting off the glittering jawbreaking hoity toity parties with this hideous dose of human misery. The two realities lie side by side on the reader鈥檚 plate.
MASSIVE PATIENCE REQUIRED
I think Musil鈥檚 greatest fans would have to admit that he is asking massive patience from readers and the stuff about the committee to celebrate Austria is deadly dull. BUT there are always always glints of gold in the bleak granite, Musil suddenly breaks out a great turn of phrase or wicked one-liner. You never know when he鈥檚 going to do it! He can be really funny. He isn鈥檛 often enough for me but he can do it when he feels like it.
A great many people today feel themselves antagonistic to a great many other people.
(Yes, Robert 鈥� they do ! They do !)
the tenderer feelings of male passion are something like the snarling of a jaguar over fresh meat 鈥� he doesn鈥檛 like to be disturbed.
Walter smiled like a fakir preparing not to bat an eyelash while someone runs a hatpin through his cheeks
Diotima barricaded herself in her tall body as in a tower marked with three stars in Baedecker
(that last one could almost be Raymond Chandler!)
And a summing up of our whole human dilemma :
Permit me to say that we鈥檙e in a very peculiar situation, unable to move either forward or backward, while the present moment is felt to be unbearable too.
STUMBLING INTO THE LIGHT
Musil鈥檚 prose is so dense at times it鈥檚 like he wanted to be the black hole of literature, sucking every subject into his novel and not letting anything out again. It鈥檚 some kind of monumental achievement, all right, but just as surely it鈥檚 not for most readers. It took me forever just to get through volume one and I humbly salute all those great readers who made it to the end.
Obviously this is a five star masterpiece but I was only intermittently in love with it, so three stars from this churlish reviewer.
WHAT IT IS LIKE
For those yet to try this famous novel you can get an idea of what it鈥檚 like by putting a metal bucket over your head and getting a friend or partner or your children to bang on the bucket for thirty minutes or so using a very sophisticated spoon.
It must be a spoon encrypted with all the subtleties of psychology and indented with the complex analyses of the five major sciences and the handle should be engraved with great mathematical formulae and the coats of arms of the major aristocratic families of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
To complete the demonstration the spoon banger should, during the banging, read out alternating verses of T S Eliot鈥檚 The Fire Sermon and George Formby鈥檚 hit 鈥淲hy Don鈥檛 Women Like Me?鈥�
After the suggested 30 minutes you will have got a reasonable idea, and you can then decide if you wish to proceed with reading the actual book.
Another way of putting it might be to imagine you are in a large room where hot air blowers are blowing thousands and thousands of very intellectual feathers over you, feathers which stick in your hair and clothes and tickle your nose and make you sneeze to the point where you can鈥檛 see the door anymore.
AN ATTEMPT TO PRESERVE MY SANITY
I decided early on that I would limit myself to VOLUME ONE, around 340 pages of this 1500 page unfinished work (1000 pages were published in Mr Musil鈥檚 lifetime and another 500 pages were later kindly supplied by his widow).
My dear friends, Volume One was enough for me for now. I may crack on with volume two in another ten years or so, maybe twenty. It is on my to-do list, but rather low down, between learning Sanskrit and getting a spiderweb neck tattoo.
THE ELUSIVE GOLDEN TAMARIN
So what we have here is a strange lumbering beast. There is not much story to be had, and readers have been known to gasp out loud when they turn a page to see actual dialogue on the next page. Sadly, it is as rare a sight as the golden tamarin in the forests of Brazil. So instead of plot and dialogue what we mostly have here is bucketfuls of character and deluges of musings. Pages and pages. This main guy Ulrich has a thoughtful turn of mind. He鈥檚 a rich 32 year old mathematician and we are in Vienna in 1913, just before the roof fell in on this elaborate aristocratic world he floats around in.
WHAT DO WE MEAN WHEN WE SAY THIS IS A NOVEL OF IDEAS
When I say that Ulrich (and the narrator) like to philosophise, I mean this kind of thing :
all moral events took place in a field of energy the constellation of which charged them with meaning, and they contained good and evil just as an atom contains the potentialities of chemical combination. They were, so to speak, what they became, and just as the one word 鈥榟ard鈥� describes four quite different entities according to whether the hardness relates to love, brutality, eagerness or severity, so the significance of all moral happenings appeared to him the dependent function of others. In this manner an endless system of relationships arose in which there was no longer any such thing as independent meanings, such as in ordinary life, at a crude first approach, are ascribed to actions and qualities. In this system the seemingly solid became a porous pretext for many other meanings; what was happening became the symbol of something that was perhaps not happening but was felt through the medium of the first; and man as the quintessence of human possibilities, potential man, the unwritten poem of his own existence, materialised as a record, a reality, and a character, confronting man in general.
If you are still reading, this massive book is the novel you have been waiting for your whole life.
But it鈥檚 not all like that, no.
WHAT THE HELL 鈥� A DEAD CAT!
Ulrich gets involved with a very dull business called the Parallel Campaign, which is a committee of great ones to celebrate the 30 year reign of Emperor Franz Joseph. Just when you are thinking 鈥渉ow dull is this book going to get?鈥� Musil suddenly throws a dead cat onto the family Christmas dinner table, in the form of a guy called Moosbrugger, who is a sex murderer. Blam 鈥� just like that 鈥� in the middle of all the tinkling chandeliers and the ptarmigan brain pate we are contemplating a very gruesome crime, and the novel begins to talk about curiously modern issues. For instance, this Moosbrugger is a prototype Gary Gilmore, insisting that he be executed when the lawyers are trying to get him pardoned. And then the whole issue of diminished responsibility is debated.
This Moosbrugger part is an excellent strategy, setting off the glittering jawbreaking hoity toity parties with this hideous dose of human misery. The two realities lie side by side on the reader鈥檚 plate.
MASSIVE PATIENCE REQUIRED
I think Musil鈥檚 greatest fans would have to admit that he is asking massive patience from readers and the stuff about the committee to celebrate Austria is deadly dull. BUT there are always always glints of gold in the bleak granite, Musil suddenly breaks out a great turn of phrase or wicked one-liner. You never know when he鈥檚 going to do it! He can be really funny. He isn鈥檛 often enough for me but he can do it when he feels like it.
A great many people today feel themselves antagonistic to a great many other people.
(Yes, Robert 鈥� they do ! They do !)
the tenderer feelings of male passion are something like the snarling of a jaguar over fresh meat 鈥� he doesn鈥檛 like to be disturbed.
Walter smiled like a fakir preparing not to bat an eyelash while someone runs a hatpin through his cheeks
Diotima barricaded herself in her tall body as in a tower marked with three stars in Baedecker
(that last one could almost be Raymond Chandler!)
And a summing up of our whole human dilemma :
Permit me to say that we鈥檙e in a very peculiar situation, unable to move either forward or backward, while the present moment is felt to be unbearable too.
STUMBLING INTO THE LIGHT
Musil鈥檚 prose is so dense at times it鈥檚 like he wanted to be the black hole of literature, sucking every subject into his novel and not letting anything out again. It鈥檚 some kind of monumental achievement, all right, but just as surely it鈥檚 not for most readers. It took me forever just to get through volume one and I humbly salute all those great readers who made it to the end.
Obviously this is a five star masterpiece but I was only intermittently in love with it, so three stars from this churlish reviewer.
October 12, 2015
This book is huge in every respect. It is a culmination and at the same time marks a decisive point in my reading life. For the books from the same league as this one, the bar is now set quite high.
Musil's Ashes
In this special case I think I have to say something about the author and the way the book was published: The novel remained fragmentary. Robert Musil died of a stroke while working on the last part in April 1942. At this time he lived with his wife in exile in Switzerland near Geneva, almost penniless and nearly forgotten. Only 18 people attended his cremation before his wife scattered the ashes of her husband in a forest. His books were banned in Germany since 1933 and also in his native country Austria after the Anschluss in 1938. Although the Musils just barely came to make ends meet and had to live on charity, he continued to write on his Magnus Opus. The first volume was published in 1930. The second volume (1933) appeared only half because Musil had withdrawn a part of the manuscript, but the publisher still wanted "something" to sell. The third volume appeared posthumously in 1943, initially in a rushed version compiled by Martha Musil, which was later (November 1952) revised and updated by Musil admirer and archivist Adolf Fris茅. That's the one I read. All this was possible because Robert Musil had produced an extraordinary bundle of 12,000 sheets with 100,000 notes, chapter drafts, and cross-references. Approximately 75 of the total of 270 chapters at the end of the novel are thus marked as "draft", "early draft" or "study". These chapters still carry a copyright, the rest (about 70% of the novel) don't, and are therefore to buy in many different versions, at least as an e-book, for small money. I have started with a cheap Kindle version, but then quickly switched to a hardcover (5th edition, 1960), to be able to actually read everything of this fascinating work.
The Plot
What is the book about? It's set mainly in Vienna in the period from summer 1913 to the "July crisis" in 1914. The Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I. will celebrate his 70th jubilee in 1918. For this occasion, the so-called Parallel Action is started: Representatives of all social groups are expected to contribute ideas on how this festive event can be celebrated. Among this group is Ulrich, the titular man without qualities, who, after military service and studies in the fields of engineering, mathematics, philosophy and psychology, want to take a year long vacation from life, doing basically nothing. Ulrich makes a large impression on the group with his profound and philosophical thoughts. One sentence about him sums up his character (at least as far as the first part of the novel goes):
Style and Meta-Style
Musil's view on the early 20th century is always precise, his diction stringent, literary, and often satirical/ironic. The prose is dense in many places, which has repeatedly forced me to take brakes from reading to process the material. There is no coherent plot actually. The narrative is repeatedly interrupted and gives the impression of volatility, especially in the second part. The style is essayistic and is also called a "novel of ideas". Musil drives these things to extremes 鈥� deliberately. The search for ideas he lets the protagonists make themselves. Essayism is Ulrich's preferred form of expression, and he even says so himself. The volatility reflects the state of the society and is found as a theme in the plot. I find this approach pretty awesome, although I have to admit that readers can also be put off by it.
More themes, more people
There are so many themes in this book that it's impossible to name them all and hard to pick the right ones. Maybe it's enough if I just list the most serious terms here. Any of these topics is treated more or less in detail, whether by the characters, or in the above mentioned essay-like fashion:
Truth vs. Possibility
Lunacy vs. Normality
Ingenuity
Soul and Spirit
Science and Mysticism
Emotions, Instincts, Love
Logic and Mind
Language, Words, and the lack thereof
[Not often, but several times, etymological considerations about the respective (German) words are made. How to translate this, is beyond me.]
There is an illustrious cast of additional characters around Ulrich, representing all walks of life. Many of them I will remember for a long time: A lunatic murderer, a count, a salon lady, a Jewish banker, a Nietzscheian philosopher, an Aryan hooligan, and many more. One of my favorite characters is General Stumm von Bordwehr, who is anything but stumm (German for "mute"). I mention him, because he is, as far as I know, the only one who reappears in another book by another autor: (The wedding of the unicorns). The list of real people who appear in The Man Without Qualities, is also quite long: Archimedes, Strindberg, Murillo, Clausewitz, Dalai Lama, Vel谩zquez, Swedenborg, Dostojewski, Drake, Franz von Assisi, Nietzsche, Flaubert, Homer, Balzac, van Helmont, Fichte, Goethe, Tolstoi, Stendal, Claudius, Maeterlinck, Michelangelo, Novalis, Bismarck, Rosegger, Platon, Raffael, Rilke, Emerson, Chamberlain, Lagerl枚f, Freud, Mann, van Gogh, Raleigh, Zarathustra.
The Writer's workshop
Like I said, the last 30% of the novel contain merely chapters with drafts and studies (although what Musil calls a "draft", some authors would be lucky to have as a final version). I like this part of the novel for two reasons: The reader can sneak a peek at the writer's workshop. Some early drafts and studies unveil Musil's thought processes pretty clearly. This I find most fascinating. The other reason is that the actual story somehow withers. Although unintentional, this reflects the state of the pre-war society in a way. Everything kind of falls apart, but no one actually cares too much while Europe slithers into the seminal catastrophe.
In my edition there is also an addendum with additional fragments, early studies, so called "sheets of ideas", unpublished forewords, afterwords, and a short CV. Those are also very interesting to read and I even consider to buy Musil's complete work on CD-ROM, the , which will hopefully be published this year, and will contain everything Musil has ever written and even includes facsimiles of his hand written notes.
The Magic Mountain
I don't remember how this book found me, and when I started it I had no idea what to expect. Reading this huge book was like climbing a mountain, a magic mountain as it turned out to be. There are steep sections and shallow ones, there are all kinds of things to marvel at along the way. If you don't rush it, take some brakes, breathe, you'll eventually get to the top, and the view from there is terrific. Comparing the book to a magic mountain is not accidental. I read not too long ago, and I liked it very much, but I have to say it pales in comparison to Musil's work, although both books have a lot in common too. Thomas Mann said about Musil in 1939:
________________
Update 10/12/15
I just learned that work on the above mentioned Klagenfurter Ausgabe has been canceled! It's said to be replaced by an open-access-portal called Musil Online in autumn 2016.
We shall see...
________________
This work is licensed under a .
Musil's Ashes
In this special case I think I have to say something about the author and the way the book was published: The novel remained fragmentary. Robert Musil died of a stroke while working on the last part in April 1942. At this time he lived with his wife in exile in Switzerland near Geneva, almost penniless and nearly forgotten. Only 18 people attended his cremation before his wife scattered the ashes of her husband in a forest. His books were banned in Germany since 1933 and also in his native country Austria after the Anschluss in 1938. Although the Musils just barely came to make ends meet and had to live on charity, he continued to write on his Magnus Opus. The first volume was published in 1930. The second volume (1933) appeared only half because Musil had withdrawn a part of the manuscript, but the publisher still wanted "something" to sell. The third volume appeared posthumously in 1943, initially in a rushed version compiled by Martha Musil, which was later (November 1952) revised and updated by Musil admirer and archivist Adolf Fris茅. That's the one I read. All this was possible because Robert Musil had produced an extraordinary bundle of 12,000 sheets with 100,000 notes, chapter drafts, and cross-references. Approximately 75 of the total of 270 chapters at the end of the novel are thus marked as "draft", "early draft" or "study". These chapters still carry a copyright, the rest (about 70% of the novel) don't, and are therefore to buy in many different versions, at least as an e-book, for small money. I have started with a cheap Kindle version, but then quickly switched to a hardcover (5th edition, 1960), to be able to actually read everything of this fascinating work.
The Plot
What is the book about? It's set mainly in Vienna in the period from summer 1913 to the "July crisis" in 1914. The Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I. will celebrate his 70th jubilee in 1918. For this occasion, the so-called Parallel Action is started: Representatives of all social groups are expected to contribute ideas on how this festive event can be celebrated. Among this group is Ulrich, the titular man without qualities, who, after military service and studies in the fields of engineering, mathematics, philosophy and psychology, want to take a year long vacation from life, doing basically nothing. Ulrich makes a large impression on the group with his profound and philosophical thoughts. One sentence about him sums up his character (at least as far as the first part of the novel goes):
Alles, was Ulrich im Lauf der Zeit Essayismus und M枚glichkeitssinn und phantastische, im Gegensatz zur pedantischen Genauigkeit genannt hatte, die Forderungen, da脽 man Geschichte erfinden m眉脽te, da脽 man Ideen-, statt Weltgeschichte leben sollte, da脽 man sich dessen, was sich nie ganz verwirklichen l盲脽t, zu bem盲chtigen und am Ende vielleicht so zu leben h盲tte, als w盲re man kein Mensch, sondern blo脽 eine Gestalt in einem Buch, von der alles Unwesentliche fortgelassen ist, damit sich das 眉brige magisch zusammenschlie脽e, 鈥� alle diese, in ihrer ungew枚hnlichen Zuspitzung wirklichkeitsfeindlichen Fassungen, die seine Gedanken angenommen hatten, besa脽en das Gemeinsame, da脽 sie auf die Wirklichkeit mit einer unverkennbaren schonungslosen Leidenschaft einwirken wollten.
Everything that Ulrich had called over time essayism and the sense of possibility, as opposed to the pedantic accuracy, the demands that you should have to invent history, that you should live ideas- rather than world-history, that you should seize which can never be quite realized, and perhaps to live at the end not like a human, but merely like a character from a book, omitted from all non-essential to ensure that the rest magically comes together, - all these, in their unusual worsening reality hostile versions that had adopted his thoughts, had this in common, that they wanted to act on reality with an unmistakable relentless passion.Ulrich's settings will change later on, after he's reunited with his long lost sister Agathe.
[translated by me]
Style and Meta-Style
Musil's view on the early 20th century is always precise, his diction stringent, literary, and often satirical/ironic. The prose is dense in many places, which has repeatedly forced me to take brakes from reading to process the material. There is no coherent plot actually. The narrative is repeatedly interrupted and gives the impression of volatility, especially in the second part. The style is essayistic and is also called a "novel of ideas". Musil drives these things to extremes 鈥� deliberately. The search for ideas he lets the protagonists make themselves. Essayism is Ulrich's preferred form of expression, and he even says so himself. The volatility reflects the state of the society and is found as a theme in the plot. I find this approach pretty awesome, although I have to admit that readers can also be put off by it.
More themes, more people
There are so many themes in this book that it's impossible to name them all and hard to pick the right ones. Maybe it's enough if I just list the most serious terms here. Any of these topics is treated more or less in detail, whether by the characters, or in the above mentioned essay-like fashion:
Truth vs. Possibility
Lunacy vs. Normality
Ingenuity
Soul and Spirit
Science and Mysticism
Emotions, Instincts, Love
Logic and Mind
Language, Words, and the lack thereof
[Not often, but several times, etymological considerations about the respective (German) words are made. How to translate this, is beyond me.]
There is an illustrious cast of additional characters around Ulrich, representing all walks of life. Many of them I will remember for a long time: A lunatic murderer, a count, a salon lady, a Jewish banker, a Nietzscheian philosopher, an Aryan hooligan, and many more. One of my favorite characters is General Stumm von Bordwehr, who is anything but stumm (German for "mute"). I mention him, because he is, as far as I know, the only one who reappears in another book by another autor: (The wedding of the unicorns). The list of real people who appear in The Man Without Qualities, is also quite long: Archimedes, Strindberg, Murillo, Clausewitz, Dalai Lama, Vel谩zquez, Swedenborg, Dostojewski, Drake, Franz von Assisi, Nietzsche, Flaubert, Homer, Balzac, van Helmont, Fichte, Goethe, Tolstoi, Stendal, Claudius, Maeterlinck, Michelangelo, Novalis, Bismarck, Rosegger, Platon, Raffael, Rilke, Emerson, Chamberlain, Lagerl枚f, Freud, Mann, van Gogh, Raleigh, Zarathustra.
The Writer's workshop
Like I said, the last 30% of the novel contain merely chapters with drafts and studies (although what Musil calls a "draft", some authors would be lucky to have as a final version). I like this part of the novel for two reasons: The reader can sneak a peek at the writer's workshop. Some early drafts and studies unveil Musil's thought processes pretty clearly. This I find most fascinating. The other reason is that the actual story somehow withers. Although unintentional, this reflects the state of the pre-war society in a way. Everything kind of falls apart, but no one actually cares too much while Europe slithers into the seminal catastrophe.
In my edition there is also an addendum with additional fragments, early studies, so called "sheets of ideas", unpublished forewords, afterwords, and a short CV. Those are also very interesting to read and I even consider to buy Musil's complete work on CD-ROM, the , which will hopefully be published this year, and will contain everything Musil has ever written and even includes facsimiles of his hand written notes.
The Magic Mountain
I don't remember how this book found me, and when I started it I had no idea what to expect. Reading this huge book was like climbing a mountain, a magic mountain as it turned out to be. There are steep sections and shallow ones, there are all kinds of things to marvel at along the way. If you don't rush it, take some brakes, breathe, you'll eventually get to the top, and the view from there is terrific. Comparing the book to a magic mountain is not accidental. I read not too long ago, and I liked it very much, but I have to say it pales in comparison to Musil's work, although both books have a lot in common too. Thomas Mann said about Musil in 1939:
禄Es gibt keinen anderen lebenden deutschen Schriftsteller, dessen Nachruhm mir so gewi脽 ist.芦
禄There is no other living German writer whose posthumous fame is as certain to me.芦Unfortunately this prophesy didn't work out for Musil. But it should have.
[translated by me]
________________
Update 10/12/15
I just learned that work on the above mentioned Klagenfurter Ausgabe has been canceled! It's said to be replaced by an open-access-portal called Musil Online in autumn 2016.
We shall see...
________________
This work is licensed under a .
October 27, 2024
IL SENSO DELLA POSSIBILIT脌
La mia natura 猫 simile a una macchina per svalutare continuamente la vita.
Musil, con questo suo mastodontico libro in particolare, considerato il suo capolavoro (considerato un capolavoro tout court da qualcuno, tra cui il presente digitante), ha un primo fantastico anticipatore, Gustave Flaubert da Rouen, con quell鈥檃ltro capolavoro (uno dei suoi) pubblicato postumo cinquant鈥檃nni prima di questo, Bouvard et P茅cuchet.
Egon Schiele
Ma questa meraviglia di Musil non pu貌 essere appiattita solo al suo carattere di canto della stupidit脿 umana: c鈥櫭� tanto altro, c鈥櫭� ben altro.
Non foss鈥檃ltro quella forma di erotismo che io percepivo leggendolo (e chiss脿 cosa ingerivo propedeutico alla lettura), tra fratello e sorella gemelli, entrambi belli e intelligenti, quell鈥檜nione mistica, incestuosa ma casta, consumata solo sotto forma di 鈥渁mplesso dell鈥檃nima鈥�, che io come dicevo trovavo oltremodo erotica. Non fosse altro per quel loro essere diversi, contro, fuori dal mainstream, che negli anni in cui l鈥檋o letto era concetto e fatto messo al bando come lo 猫 anche ora: solo che ora non 猫 pi霉 un鈥檃spirazione, adesso 鈥渕assa 猫 bello鈥�.
La follia pazzia di Moosbrugger, l鈥檈norme falegname reo di pi霉 omicidi che Ulrich si ostina a salvare, proprio lui, uomo senza qualit脿. Nietzsche sovrasta attento.
La coppia di amici, Walter e Clarissa, il disfacimento del loro matrimonio, lo scivolare di lei in una sorta di malattia mentale. Freud supervisiona curioso.
L鈥橝zione Parallela, il comitato incaricato di organizzare i festeggiamenti per il giubileo del re imperatore, il kaiser Francesco Giuseppe, di cui Ulrich diventa segretario (suo malgrado). Festeggiamenti che si sarebbero dovuti svolgere nel 1918, il comitato si forma nel 1913 per individuare un鈥檌dea memorabile che renda la celebrazione unica e indimenticabile: in mezzo scorre la Grande Guerra che tutto spazza via.
La Cacania, ma meglio Kakania, imperiale e regia, doppia k, kaiserlich e k枚niglich.
Il superiore Regno Millenario dei fratelli siamesi e delle anime gemelle.
Egon Schiele
Non esistono stellette sufficienti per questo libro. Capolavoro. Grande tra i grandi. L'ho letto e ripreso in mano pi霉 volte, leggendo qui e l脿, come un libro da consultazione. Sentendomi Ulrich, sentendomi Agathe.
E mi chiedo se senza le dritte dell'Alberto da Voghera sarei riuscito a incontrare Musil cos矛 presto nel mio percorso di lettore (inconsapevole) e con cos矛 tanto entusiasmo da parte mia.
Egon Schiele
Mia personale convinzione 猫 che se questo mondo fosse popolato da pi霉 uomini senza qualit脿 come Ulrich, o donne senza qualit脿 come Agathe, sarebbe un luogo ben migliore. Viva questa mancanza di qualit脿.
E accadeva sempre cos矛, Diotima iniziava il discorso come se Dio, al settimo giorno, avesse riposto quella parola che 猫 l鈥檜omo nella conchiglia del mondo e lui allora le ricordava che l鈥檈ssere umano 猫 un mucchio di puntini sullo strato pi霉 superficiale di un piccolissimo globo.
Cartolina postale del 1915 che raffigura l'Imperatore Francesco Giuseppe I in preghiera per la vittoria dell'Austria nella Prima Guerra Mondiale.
La mia natura 猫 simile a una macchina per svalutare continuamente la vita.
Musil, con questo suo mastodontico libro in particolare, considerato il suo capolavoro (considerato un capolavoro tout court da qualcuno, tra cui il presente digitante), ha un primo fantastico anticipatore, Gustave Flaubert da Rouen, con quell鈥檃ltro capolavoro (uno dei suoi) pubblicato postumo cinquant鈥檃nni prima di questo, Bouvard et P茅cuchet.
Egon Schiele
Ma questa meraviglia di Musil non pu貌 essere appiattita solo al suo carattere di canto della stupidit脿 umana: c鈥櫭� tanto altro, c鈥櫭� ben altro.
Non foss鈥檃ltro quella forma di erotismo che io percepivo leggendolo (e chiss脿 cosa ingerivo propedeutico alla lettura), tra fratello e sorella gemelli, entrambi belli e intelligenti, quell鈥檜nione mistica, incestuosa ma casta, consumata solo sotto forma di 鈥渁mplesso dell鈥檃nima鈥�, che io come dicevo trovavo oltremodo erotica. Non fosse altro per quel loro essere diversi, contro, fuori dal mainstream, che negli anni in cui l鈥檋o letto era concetto e fatto messo al bando come lo 猫 anche ora: solo che ora non 猫 pi霉 un鈥檃spirazione, adesso 鈥渕assa 猫 bello鈥�.
La follia pazzia di Moosbrugger, l鈥檈norme falegname reo di pi霉 omicidi che Ulrich si ostina a salvare, proprio lui, uomo senza qualit脿. Nietzsche sovrasta attento.
La coppia di amici, Walter e Clarissa, il disfacimento del loro matrimonio, lo scivolare di lei in una sorta di malattia mentale. Freud supervisiona curioso.
L鈥橝zione Parallela, il comitato incaricato di organizzare i festeggiamenti per il giubileo del re imperatore, il kaiser Francesco Giuseppe, di cui Ulrich diventa segretario (suo malgrado). Festeggiamenti che si sarebbero dovuti svolgere nel 1918, il comitato si forma nel 1913 per individuare un鈥檌dea memorabile che renda la celebrazione unica e indimenticabile: in mezzo scorre la Grande Guerra che tutto spazza via.
La Cacania, ma meglio Kakania, imperiale e regia, doppia k, kaiserlich e k枚niglich.
Il superiore Regno Millenario dei fratelli siamesi e delle anime gemelle.
Egon Schiele
Non esistono stellette sufficienti per questo libro. Capolavoro. Grande tra i grandi. L'ho letto e ripreso in mano pi霉 volte, leggendo qui e l脿, come un libro da consultazione. Sentendomi Ulrich, sentendomi Agathe.
E mi chiedo se senza le dritte dell'Alberto da Voghera sarei riuscito a incontrare Musil cos矛 presto nel mio percorso di lettore (inconsapevole) e con cos矛 tanto entusiasmo da parte mia.
Egon Schiele
Mia personale convinzione 猫 che se questo mondo fosse popolato da pi霉 uomini senza qualit脿 come Ulrich, o donne senza qualit脿 come Agathe, sarebbe un luogo ben migliore. Viva questa mancanza di qualit脿.
E accadeva sempre cos矛, Diotima iniziava il discorso come se Dio, al settimo giorno, avesse riposto quella parola che 猫 l鈥檜omo nella conchiglia del mondo e lui allora le ricordava che l鈥檈ssere umano 猫 un mucchio di puntini sullo strato pi霉 superficiale di un piccolissimo globo.
Cartolina postale del 1915 che raffigura l'Imperatore Francesco Giuseppe I in preghiera per la vittoria dell'Austria nella Prima Guerra Mondiale.
February 15, 2017
The Man Without Qualities is an unusual novel. More a work of philosophy than fiction, the Socratic interactions of its two dozen or so characters provide the framework for Musil's philosophical investigations. These conversations, deep and varied in scope, are the fat formed about the scant bones of the ineffectual Parallel Campaign. The philosophical musings are usually quite abstract and esoteric, though sometimes a little (understandably) absorbed in the specific concerns of the time. Nonetheless, this is a masterful work, and well worth reading.
However, The Man Without Qualities is not a polished or consistent book. Musil's approach to the novel is haphazard, full of diversions and distractions, and a disregard for conventional narrative structure. Even the Parallel Campaign, which is at the core of the novel, is abandoned for long intervals, and is rarely developed in any significant way. All this gives the impression that a completed Man Without Qualities would have to be several times longer than the already dense, 1100 pages of this unfinished version. However, resolutions of plot and thought being so rare within the novel, perhaps its incompleteness is perfectly aligned to its natural state. This is a complex and enigmatic novel, which defies simple analysis.
Musil was consumed by this book, which he worked on at some personal cost until his death. Being unfinished, there is some cohesive, unifying quality, which it lacks. Nonetheless Musil absolutely deserves full credit for what he has achieved; for his breadth of ambition and dedication to the ideal of producing the singular, great artistic work of which one is capable.
However, The Man Without Qualities is not a polished or consistent book. Musil's approach to the novel is haphazard, full of diversions and distractions, and a disregard for conventional narrative structure. Even the Parallel Campaign, which is at the core of the novel, is abandoned for long intervals, and is rarely developed in any significant way. All this gives the impression that a completed Man Without Qualities would have to be several times longer than the already dense, 1100 pages of this unfinished version. However, resolutions of plot and thought being so rare within the novel, perhaps its incompleteness is perfectly aligned to its natural state. This is a complex and enigmatic novel, which defies simple analysis.
Musil was consumed by this book, which he worked on at some personal cost until his death. Being unfinished, there is some cohesive, unifying quality, which it lacks. Nonetheless Musil absolutely deserves full credit for what he has achieved; for his breadth of ambition and dedication to the ideal of producing the singular, great artistic work of which one is capable.
April 10, 2022
I'm not sure how I made it to the end of this windbag of an unfinished novel. Especially given it bored me on practically every page. Musil reminds me of a fascist dictator with his megalomania, his swaddled love affair with the sound of his own voice. It's commonly referred to as a novel of ideas. Often code for a novel of talking heads bereft of plot or credible characters. I can't say there were many ideas, if any, which blasted forth a kindling of sunlight. I'm not even sure I could tell you what any of these ideas are. I thought the book's most popular quotes here might provide some illumination. The most liked on 欧宝娱乐 is this - The secret of a good librarian is that he never reads anything more of the literature in his charge than the title and the table of contents. Anyone who lets himself go and starts reading a book is lost as a librarian...He's bound to lose perspective."
Is that an idea that has enriched our culture? It sounds clever - Musil's greatest talent is sounding clever, at implying he has all the answers. It's also a novel hailed as a pioneering work of post-modernism. Yet architecturally it couldn't be more commonplace. Of course there is brilliance. It wouldn't be a book that's still read if there wasn't. ("For it is only criminals who presume to damage other people nowadays without the aid of philosophy.") But I'd say the brilliance occupies about fifty of the novel's 1130 pages. There's also the sense that this novel would never have been finished even had Musil lived another twenty years. As is the case with all fascist dictators I can't imagine him ever shutting up.
I now know my answer if anyone asks me what I think the most overrated novel hailed as a masterpiece is.
Is that an idea that has enriched our culture? It sounds clever - Musil's greatest talent is sounding clever, at implying he has all the answers. It's also a novel hailed as a pioneering work of post-modernism. Yet architecturally it couldn't be more commonplace. Of course there is brilliance. It wouldn't be a book that's still read if there wasn't. ("For it is only criminals who presume to damage other people nowadays without the aid of philosophy.") But I'd say the brilliance occupies about fifty of the novel's 1130 pages. There's also the sense that this novel would never have been finished even had Musil lived another twenty years. As is the case with all fascist dictators I can't imagine him ever shutting up.
I now know my answer if anyone asks me what I think the most overrated novel hailed as a masterpiece is.
September 1, 2015
Nessuna altra opera letteraria finora letta -e dubito che nessuna altra mai- ha avuto in me un effetto cos矛 travolgente come 鈥渓鈥檜omo senza qualit脿鈥�. Come ho gi脿 detto ad alcuni amici, leggere Musil 猫 stata una palestra per i miei neuroni acciaccati. E quando vai in palestra per la prima volta dopo anni di inattivit脿, ne esci per giorni con le ossa rotte, torni a casa indolenzita, hai voglia a fare massaggi e spalmare creme lenitive! Cos矛 猫 stato l鈥檃pproccio con Musil: difficile, difficilissimo. Mi sono trovata davanti ad una congerie di aforismi, monologhi, saggi dialogati, digressioni filosofiche, riflessioni dei personaggi, considerazioni dell鈥檃utore che formano saggi a s茅 stanti, di una lucidit脿 e genialit脿 dirompenti, con guizzi di intelligenza acutissima, di ironia pungente e momenti di poesia, di dolcezza e grazia incantevoli. Ero frastornata.
All鈥檌mprovviso qualcosa 猫 scattato e dinnanzi a me si 猫 aperto un mondo vivissimo, fatto di una molteplicit脿 di personaggi che, grazie al perfetto disordine, alla lucida precisione del pensiero, alla scrittura impeccabile di Musil sono diventati vivi, carnalmente presenti davanti ai miei occhi, nei loro pregi e difetti, mi sono vista costruito, come una ragnatela tessuta da un abilissimo tessitore, un mondo, quello della buona societ脿 austroungarica dell鈥檌nizio del secolo XX, colta sull鈥檕rlo della sua inesorabile fine. In questo mondo ho assistito alle innumerevoli vicende che sempre sembrano condurre da qualche parte e da alcuna parte alla fine portano, a partire dall鈥橝zione Parallela, organizzazione creata per festeggiare il regno dell鈥檌mperatore Francesco Giuseppe i cui membri sono in continuo impegnati a trovare un鈥橧dea (che non troveranno)da porre a base dell鈥橝zione, passando attraverso amori, tradimenti, passioni, fino alle scene piene di grazia tra i due "fratelli siamesi" Ulrich e Agathe, ad altre scene stupende per forza espressiva come la visita del generale Stumm alla biblioteca nazionale e la visita di Clarisse al manicomio criminale.
Nel mondo decadente e inconsistente creato da Musil non vi 猫 un senso o un ordine, perch茅 鈥揹ice il generale Stumm- 鈥溾€� prova a immaginarti soltanto un ordine completo, universale, un ordine di tutta l鈥檜manit脿, in una parola un ordine civile perfetto; ebbene, io sostengo che questa 猫 la morte di freddo, la rigidit脿 cadaverica, un paesaggio lunare, una epidemia geometrica鈥�. Non vi 猫 una legge morale, perch茅 鈥渓a morale 猫 fantasia鈥�; per貌 鈥渓a fantasia non 猫 arbitrio鈥︹€�. Vi 猫 l鈥檜omo immerso nelle proprie contraddizioni, e per viverci in mezzo deve avere coraggio da vendere, perch茅 鈥渟olo cos矛 si raggiunge il massimo rendimento鈥�.
Ed ora mi sento orfana di Ulrich, di Agathe, del generale Stumm, di Diotima, anche dell鈥檕dioso Arnheim. Per貌 vi assicuro che i miei neuroni vanno a mille.
All鈥檌mprovviso qualcosa 猫 scattato e dinnanzi a me si 猫 aperto un mondo vivissimo, fatto di una molteplicit脿 di personaggi che, grazie al perfetto disordine, alla lucida precisione del pensiero, alla scrittura impeccabile di Musil sono diventati vivi, carnalmente presenti davanti ai miei occhi, nei loro pregi e difetti, mi sono vista costruito, come una ragnatela tessuta da un abilissimo tessitore, un mondo, quello della buona societ脿 austroungarica dell鈥檌nizio del secolo XX, colta sull鈥檕rlo della sua inesorabile fine. In questo mondo ho assistito alle innumerevoli vicende che sempre sembrano condurre da qualche parte e da alcuna parte alla fine portano, a partire dall鈥橝zione Parallela, organizzazione creata per festeggiare il regno dell鈥檌mperatore Francesco Giuseppe i cui membri sono in continuo impegnati a trovare un鈥橧dea (che non troveranno)da porre a base dell鈥橝zione, passando attraverso amori, tradimenti, passioni, fino alle scene piene di grazia tra i due "fratelli siamesi" Ulrich e Agathe, ad altre scene stupende per forza espressiva come la visita del generale Stumm alla biblioteca nazionale e la visita di Clarisse al manicomio criminale.
Nel mondo decadente e inconsistente creato da Musil non vi 猫 un senso o un ordine, perch茅 鈥揹ice il generale Stumm- 鈥溾€� prova a immaginarti soltanto un ordine completo, universale, un ordine di tutta l鈥檜manit脿, in una parola un ordine civile perfetto; ebbene, io sostengo che questa 猫 la morte di freddo, la rigidit脿 cadaverica, un paesaggio lunare, una epidemia geometrica鈥�. Non vi 猫 una legge morale, perch茅 鈥渓a morale 猫 fantasia鈥�; per貌 鈥渓a fantasia non 猫 arbitrio鈥︹€�. Vi 猫 l鈥檜omo immerso nelle proprie contraddizioni, e per viverci in mezzo deve avere coraggio da vendere, perch茅 鈥渟olo cos矛 si raggiunge il massimo rendimento鈥�.
Ed ora mi sento orfana di Ulrich, di Agathe, del generale Stumm, di Diotima, anche dell鈥檕dioso Arnheim. Per貌 vi assicuro che i miei neuroni vanno a mille.
February 14, 2025
鈥淚t鈥檚 all decadence! A bottomless pit of intelligence!鈥�
First and foremost, I鈥檇 like to make it clear that my rating is more a reflection of my personal enjoyment of this novel than of its literary merit. Musil had a brilliant mind and a startlingly innovative writing style; I worship his Confusions of Young T枚rless. Also, the philosophical, psychological, and political analyses contained in this book were nothing if not rigorous, intricate and formidably incisive.
That said, although I knew going in that this would be a tremendously long 鈥渘ovel of ideas,鈥� I seem to have overestimated my attention span for, and ability to appreciate, such a work. 1,774 pages of a book that tapered off excruciatingly slowly into a loose bundle of dry, esoteric philosophical discourses just wasn鈥檛 for me. In fact, to be brutally honest, slogging through the latter portion of this book was one of the most interminably tedious reading experiences I鈥檝e had in a long time. I wouldn鈥檛 necessarily go so far as to label it pretentious intellectual bullshit, but that鈥檚 (mainly) because I鈥檓 a gutless wonder.
At any rate, I suggest you make damn sure you鈥檙e okay with a progressively plot-less philosophical novel before you commit to it, because if it isn鈥檛 really your jam, you鈥檒l frequently be seized by an overpowering urge to run toward the nearest living thing and kill it. For 鈥渆verything split into hundreds of layers and became opaque and blurred,鈥� and more often than not, I found myself sympathizing with Cameron鈥檚 bewilderment and despair over that Seurat painting in Ferris Bueller鈥檚 Day Off :
August 4, 2018
An absolute classic. Sort of Dilbert but in pre-WWI Austria. This first volume is outstanding. The second one was nearly unreadable. The protagonist is tasked with organizing a massive party for the jubilee of the Austro-Hungarian emperor and the story becomes absurdist, ironic and hilarious as he confronts an apathetic administration and as everything indicates the impending doom of the regime. A must read!
July 27, 2011
This is the greatest demonstration of human thought I have ever encountered. It demonstrates that the novel can be the best method for deciphering and analysing the human condition and the nature of existence that we have, over and above philosophy, history, politics, psychology, sociology or any other ology you care to mention. His range is breathtaking, encompassing the intellect, the erotic and the spiritual, he is funny and at times sublime, and his prose is perfection. If you are the kind of person who feels an urge to take on the big beasts of the novel such as Moby Dick, Ulysses, War and Peace or Don Quixote, for god's sake read this. Anyone who finishes this book will know that they have had one of the most rewarding and important experiences of their cultural life.
December 25, 2021
N-am mai postat de ceva vreme despre o carte. Asta pentru c膬 mi-am petrecut ultimul timp cu un studiu tare dificil, care mi-a consumat cam toat膬 energia. Poate cel mai dificil studiu din toat膬 via葲a mea literar膬: Omul f膬r膬 卯nsu葯iri, de Robert Musil.
O carte de idei, f膬r膬 conflicte sau biografii centrale, ci doar conflicte filosofice 葯i psihologice. Ac葲iunea, plasat膬 卯n Viena 卯n perioada imediat anterioar膬 izbucnirii Primului R膬zboi Mondial, 卯l are 卯n prim plan pe Ulrich, un om care 卯葯i examineaz膬 propria via葲膬 urm芒nd sfatul lui Socrate conform c膬ruia o via葲膬 neexaminat膬 nu merit膬 s膬 fie tr膬it膬.
O alt膬 tem膬 este genialitatea pierdut膬. Ulrich devine ''omul f膬r膬 卯nsu葯iri'' pentru c膬 perioada 卯n care tr膬ie葯te distruge criteriile genialit膬葲ii.
Romanul nu a fost niciodat膬 terminat, autorul murind 卯n timp ce scria la el. Asta 卯l face cu at芒t mai fascinant c膬ci, sincer, doar moartea autorului ar fi putut finaliza o carte care altfel nu s-ar termina niciodat膬.
N-am citit niciodat膬 ceva mai puternic, mai greu, mai tulbur膬tor. A trebuit s膬 iau o pauz膬 total膬 de la social medial, s膬 dedic nop葲i 葯i weekend-uri 卯ntregi acestui studiu. Mi-am luat noti葲e, am f膬cut schi葲e, am c膬utat referin葲e 葯i multe sensuri de cuvinte 卯n limba rom芒n膬. Sunt idei tare alambicat exprimate, intercalate cu umor 葯i ap膬s膬ri emo葲ionale, istorice, politice.
O carte care 卯葲i reg芒nde葯te toate standardele literare 葯i 卯葲i d膬 o satisfac葲ie extrem de mare pentru puterea de a r膬m芒ne al膬turi de ea.
O carte de idei, f膬r膬 conflicte sau biografii centrale, ci doar conflicte filosofice 葯i psihologice. Ac葲iunea, plasat膬 卯n Viena 卯n perioada imediat anterioar膬 izbucnirii Primului R膬zboi Mondial, 卯l are 卯n prim plan pe Ulrich, un om care 卯葯i examineaz膬 propria via葲膬 urm芒nd sfatul lui Socrate conform c膬ruia o via葲膬 neexaminat膬 nu merit膬 s膬 fie tr膬it膬.
O alt膬 tem膬 este genialitatea pierdut膬. Ulrich devine ''omul f膬r膬 卯nsu葯iri'' pentru c膬 perioada 卯n care tr膬ie葯te distruge criteriile genialit膬葲ii.
Romanul nu a fost niciodat膬 terminat, autorul murind 卯n timp ce scria la el. Asta 卯l face cu at芒t mai fascinant c膬ci, sincer, doar moartea autorului ar fi putut finaliza o carte care altfel nu s-ar termina niciodat膬.
N-am citit niciodat膬 ceva mai puternic, mai greu, mai tulbur膬tor. A trebuit s膬 iau o pauz膬 total膬 de la social medial, s膬 dedic nop葲i 葯i weekend-uri 卯ntregi acestui studiu. Mi-am luat noti葲e, am f膬cut schi葲e, am c膬utat referin葲e 葯i multe sensuri de cuvinte 卯n limba rom芒n膬. Sunt idei tare alambicat exprimate, intercalate cu umor 葯i ap膬s膬ri emo葲ionale, istorice, politice.
O carte care 卯葲i reg芒nde葯te toate standardele literare 葯i 卯葲i d膬 o satisfac葲ie extrem de mare pentru puterea de a r膬m芒ne al膬turi de ea.
February 9, 2017
This review is for the Picador edition. translated by Shophie Wilkins and Burton Pike.
I don't know how people found books to read before the internet and 欧宝娱乐. 欧宝娱乐 has been recommending me this book for a very long time. Finally I've managed to read it.
Anyway about the book:
This is posibilly the most accessible, inspiring, and influential philosophy book that I've read. It's also a novel. So it has a plot and characters. The book covers many concepts, themes, and ideas. Some of the themes include morality, experience, truth and opinion.
There are many allusions to Nietzsche and Dostoevsky. Which I got because I've read many of their books. But unfortunately I haven't read enough Goethe to get the allusions to him. I've only actually read Faust Part 1.
The book is supposedly incomplete. But without giving anything away. I found the ending more than adequate. Unlike the disappointing ending to other incomplete novels. Like The Castle by Franz Kafka. And Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol. But like many people have said before. It's a novel of ideas so the ending isn't really that important.
I'll definitely be reading this book many times again. As there is so much to absorb. That one read really isn't sufficient enough.
If The Man Without Qualities had a fight with In Search of Lost Time. The Man Without Qualities Would kick it's ass.
I don't know how people found books to read before the internet and 欧宝娱乐. 欧宝娱乐 has been recommending me this book for a very long time. Finally I've managed to read it.
Anyway about the book:
This is posibilly the most accessible, inspiring, and influential philosophy book that I've read. It's also a novel. So it has a plot and characters. The book covers many concepts, themes, and ideas. Some of the themes include morality, experience, truth and opinion.
There are many allusions to Nietzsche and Dostoevsky. Which I got because I've read many of their books. But unfortunately I haven't read enough Goethe to get the allusions to him. I've only actually read Faust Part 1.
The book is supposedly incomplete. But without giving anything away. I found the ending more than adequate. Unlike the disappointing ending to other incomplete novels. Like The Castle by Franz Kafka. And Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol. But like many people have said before. It's a novel of ideas so the ending isn't really that important.
I'll definitely be reading this book many times again. As there is so much to absorb. That one read really isn't sufficient enough.
If The Man Without Qualities had a fight with In Search of Lost Time. The Man Without Qualities Would kick it's ass.
March 8, 2009
A comic novel. A modern novel. A novel of ideas and more. This is without a doubt my favorite novel and one that both encapsulates and foreshadows the the development of the modern condition. Musil's scientific mind is able to present a humanistic view of the world of Ulrich and the rest of the characters that inhabit this novel. Continuously inventive and invigorating for the reader, the writing is so precise and the argument Musil makes about Ulrich and his situation so intricate that it is intellectually and aesthetically involving even before it becomes emotionally so.
On rereading Musil I have come to an appreciation of why he may have found it so difficult to complete the project, for his protagonist, Ulrich - the man without qualities - was so definitely a man who considered the unlimited number of possibilities before acting. As Musil said, "What is seemingly solid in this system becomes a porous pretext for many possible meanings; . . . and man as the quintessence of his possibilities, potential man,"(p. 270); the task before him must have seemed daunting. The result - he left thousands of pages of manuscript unfinished, unedited, unpublished at his death.
At the end of the first volume of The Man Without Qualities Ulrich has just learned of his father's death and is seen heading for the train station to return home to attend to his duties. This is an ending of sorts, at least for this seven hundred page prelude to the remainder of the novel. It is a prelude that includes introductions to a roster of characters who, unlike Ulrich, portray characteristics that place them definitely in 1913 Vienna where we find most of them participating in a centennial celebration referred to as the 'Parallel Campaign'. Beside this campaign we also see glimmerings of the rise of the 'new' Germany that would emerge after the Great War which remains only, an unmentioned, possibility.
Through the whole of the first volume Ulrich both meditates internally and interacts with the other characters regarding the nature of this world and its activities and, most importantly, the possibilities facing him - the 'what if' or subjunctive nature of life. This can be summarized briefly as a discussion of the difference between the precise measurement of the modern scientific view of man and the imprecision of the artistic or more spiritual view. The society presented in the novel is particular, yet universal and in that society Ulrich is the most universal individual. As the first volume of this rather uneventful story edges toward its close suddenly several events erupt to bring some of the action into focus. These lead to a moment where Musil brings Ulrich and the reader face to face to contemplate "the narrative mode of thought to which private life still clings,". This mode of thought may give one the "impression that their life has a 'course' (that) is somehow their refuge from chaos." (p. 709) Or we may believe that it is not an impression, but a reality made through our creation of our own life through our actions and influences ("Man is not a teaching animal but one that lives, acts, and influences." - Goethe).
On rereading Musil I have come to an appreciation of why he may have found it so difficult to complete the project, for his protagonist, Ulrich - the man without qualities - was so definitely a man who considered the unlimited number of possibilities before acting. As Musil said, "What is seemingly solid in this system becomes a porous pretext for many possible meanings; . . . and man as the quintessence of his possibilities, potential man,"(p. 270); the task before him must have seemed daunting. The result - he left thousands of pages of manuscript unfinished, unedited, unpublished at his death.
At the end of the first volume of The Man Without Qualities Ulrich has just learned of his father's death and is seen heading for the train station to return home to attend to his duties. This is an ending of sorts, at least for this seven hundred page prelude to the remainder of the novel. It is a prelude that includes introductions to a roster of characters who, unlike Ulrich, portray characteristics that place them definitely in 1913 Vienna where we find most of them participating in a centennial celebration referred to as the 'Parallel Campaign'. Beside this campaign we also see glimmerings of the rise of the 'new' Germany that would emerge after the Great War which remains only, an unmentioned, possibility.
Through the whole of the first volume Ulrich both meditates internally and interacts with the other characters regarding the nature of this world and its activities and, most importantly, the possibilities facing him - the 'what if' or subjunctive nature of life. This can be summarized briefly as a discussion of the difference between the precise measurement of the modern scientific view of man and the imprecision of the artistic or more spiritual view. The society presented in the novel is particular, yet universal and in that society Ulrich is the most universal individual. As the first volume of this rather uneventful story edges toward its close suddenly several events erupt to bring some of the action into focus. These lead to a moment where Musil brings Ulrich and the reader face to face to contemplate "the narrative mode of thought to which private life still clings,". This mode of thought may give one the "impression that their life has a 'course' (that) is somehow their refuge from chaos." (p. 709) Or we may believe that it is not an impression, but a reality made through our creation of our own life through our actions and influences ("Man is not a teaching animal but one that lives, acts, and influences." - Goethe).
August 20, 2012
I'm not one for superlatives, but this has to be the greatest novel I have ever read, hands down (even including the Brother's Karamazov - it is almost as if this book carried the former's concerns into the 20th century, evolving them in the process). The characters, situations and philosophical discussions have a level of complexity and observational depth that I have never before encountered, and at times I almost found it hard to grasp that such a work could have been written by a single human consciousness. The conflict between modern rationality and science and the less tangible subjective world of feeling, morality, art and spirituality is one that Musil truly understood and battled, and his attempt to forge a solution is admirable to say the least. Given that I just finished it, time is needed for its effect to fully sink in; I will return with more developed thoughts, but this was a truly life changing experience. The book has lost none of its relevance; at the beginning of the 21st century, we are all men without qualities..
August 19, 2020
Genialit盲t gemischt mit G盲hnen
So kann ich kurz und knackig f眉r mich dieses epochale Werk in seiner Gesamtheit abschlie脽end analysieren. In diesem mehr als 1000 Seiten umfassenden riesen Ziegel, mit dem man sogar Leute erschlagen k枚nnte, wechseln sich wahrhaft grandiose Analysen und gut gezeichnete Figuren, die in der Literatur ihresgleichen suchen, mit ganz schlechten, handwerklich schrecklich gemachten Passagen ab, wobei im zweiten Drittel wirklich der Tiefpunkt erreicht wird. Ich frage mich schon, wie die Literaturkritik vor so einem Murks, der weite Strecken des Mittelteils und das Ende betrifft, die Augen verschlie脽en kann und das Gesamtwerk als Meisterwerk betitelt. Man muss doch ein Buch in seiner Gesamtheit betrachten und kann sich nicht nur die genialen Szenen f眉r die Beurteilung herauspicken. Details zu meinen Kritikpunkten werde ich noch genauer ausf眉hren. Zu Beginn dachte ich noch, der Roman w盲re gar nicht lektoriert worden und meinte, ein kluges, strenges, straffendes Lektorat, das auf mindestens 400 Seiten und bei einigen nutzlosen Figuren den Rotstift ansetzt, h盲tte dem Roman gutgetan, nun bin ich eines Besseren belehrt worden, der Roman wurde tats盲chlich lektoriert und noch viel mehr Szenen wurden gestrichen, als die Geschichte auch f眉r Musil eskalierte, da er zu keinem Ende kommen konnte.
Aber fangen wir mit den genialen Punkten an. Musil zeichnet ein gro脽artiges Sittenbild der 枚sterreichischen Gesellschaft um 1913 鈥� die er Kakanien nennt. Er f眉hrt zu diesem Zweck neben sehr vielen unterschiedlichen Figuren aus allen Schichten des Landes die Parallelaktion ein, quasi ein Projekt, in dem anl盲sslich des Geburtstages seiner Majest盲t Kaiser Franz Josef in einem Salon unterschiedlichste Schichten und Branchen zusammenkommen, um irgendeine Idee f眉r Kaisers Geburtstag kreieren. Das hat etwas von Brainstorming und modernem Projektmanagement mit viel B眉rokratie in einem lockeren Rahmen, wobei das Projekt daran krankt, dass es keine Vorgaben gibt, was 眉berhaupt dabei herauskommen soll.
Diese geniale Konstruktion erlaubt dem Autor all seine Figuren aus den unterschiedlichen Schichten miteinander zu verweben, sie teilweise an einem Ort zusammenzubringen und dabei gleichzeitig eine 360 Grad Umschau auf die Gesellschaft und einen gr枚脽eren Zusammenhang herzustellen, den er ansonsten mit Figuren an den Haaren herbeiziehen h盲tte m眉ssen: Die gro脽e Parallelaktion bildet auch Unterausssch眉sse und wird im Hinblick auf das noch nicht definierte Ziel der gro脽en Aktion analysiert: Wissenschaft, Presse, Milit盲r, Beamte, Bankiers, Bildungsb眉rgertum, Schw盲tzer, Politik, Nationalismus, Rechtssystem鈥� es fehlt eigentlich nur der Kaiser selbst in diesem.
Da gibt es beispielsweise im unz盲hligen Personal, das den Roman bev枚lkert, den Protagonisten, den Mann ohne Eigenschaften Ulrich, der fr眉her Wissenschaftler war, den deutschen Schw盲tzer und Industriellen Arnheim, ein Hansdampf und Blender in allen Gassen, Ulrichs Cousine Diotima, die den Salon f眉hrt, st盲ndig mit den Intellektuellen lieb盲ugelt, um ihr fades Leben als Beamtengattin aufzumotzen, die deutsch-j眉dische Bankiersfamilie Fischl, die mit dem Antisemitismus ihrer eigenen Tochter k盲mpft, die sich in einen jungen deutschnationalen Burschen verliebt hat, der General Stumm, der durch seinen milit盲rischen Hintergrund als einziger f盲hig ist, ein bisschen Ordnung in das Chaos des Projektes und der vielen Ideen zu bringen, ein paar Geliebte des Protagonisten Ulrich, Ulrichs Freund Walter mit seiner Frau Clarisse und noch viele weitere Figuren.
Die politische Analyse auf Basis der Gesellschaftsanalyse ist grandios. Mit jeder Faser sp眉ren die Figuren dieser Zeit, dass etwas mit den Menschen und der Gesellschaft im Argen liegt bzw. den dr盲uenden Weltenbrand und das geht weit 眉ber Kulturpessimismus, den es zu allen Zeiten gab, hinaus. Weiters werden selbstverst盲ndlich mit viel Humor in treffenden Analysen die Probleme des Vielv枚lkerstaates aufs Tapet gebracht.
Am Ende des ersten Drittels, nicht nach Kapiteln sondern so nach etwa 350 Seiten, hat sich Musil bis auf ein paar Lichtblicke meiner Meinung nach total 眉bernommen. Da die Figuren in ausreichender Tiefe schon eingef眉hrt sind, wird eine erneute Analyse abseits einer menschlichen Weiterentwicklung zum nutzlosen Geschw盲tz. Die Gesellschaftsanalyse kommt eben nur in den Kapiteln mit Lichtblick voran, die nun sp盲rlich werden. Musil hat sich verphilosophiert und scheitert auch an seinem eigenen Anspruch, denn er kann die Qualit盲t, die zu Beginn permanent aufblitzt nicht auf Dauer halten. Zugegeben, man kann man als Autor nicht immer nur auf der Spitze des Niveaus operieren, aber die qualitativen T盲ler, durch die man als Leser waten muss, werden mit zunehmender L盲nge des Romans bedauerlicherweise breiter und h盲ufiger.
Unn枚tige, schlecht gezeichnete Figuren und schlecht recherchierte Theorien
Was ich nie ganz verstehen will, sind einige Figuren, die zwar mitspielen, aber weder etwas f眉r die Handlung tun, noch irgendwelche Beitr盲ge zum philosophischen Unterbau leisten. Zum Beispiel der ausladende Erz盲hlstrang des Frauenm枚rders Moosbrugger, dessen Verurteilung zum Tode nicht nur in den Salons mit gruselnder Bewunderung ob der ziellosen Gewaltt盲tigkeit diskutiert wird 鈥� was ich ja verstehen kann - sondern der in einzelnen g盲hnend langweiligen Szenen auch noch mitspielen muss.
Mir kommt diese Figur als fiktives Zeitgeistphantom vor, das man aus den damaligen Medien kennt, so wie Charles Manson, der in den 70er Jahren als verehrtes Monster in die Hippie-Kultur einging. Das war so ein fernes fiktives Monster, das einen erschaudern lie脽, 眉ber das man diskutierte und das man verehrte, aber sicher nicht in der Realit盲t in der Nachbarschaft haben wollte.
Bei all dem Geschwafel der Protagonisten, konnte mir Musil auch nie die Motive von Clarisse, der Frau des Freundes Walter erkl盲ren. Sie verh盲lt sich v枚llig ambivalent bekloppt und wird als etwas wahnhaft beschrieben. Aber selbst Personen mit massiven psychischen St枚rungen und wahnhaftem Verhalten haben in ihrem Wahn Motive, die zwar nicht dem Normalbild entsprechen, aber in sich konsistent sind. Clarisse verh盲lt sich total uneinheitlich und setzt Handlungen ohne ersichtliche Motivlage. Sie ist als Figur n盲mlich extrem schlampig gezeichnet. Vor allem auch dem Umstand geschuldet, dass es 1913 schon sehr viele Ans盲tze der Psychologie und Psychiatrie gab und eben verr眉ckte Frauen von M盲nnern nicht mehr total unlogisch abkategorisiert wurden, sondern in Psychoanalyse und Psychiatrie durchaus schon konsistente Erkl盲rungsmuster bestanden, die zwar im Gedankengeb盲ude nicht unbedingt stimmten, aber dennoch in sich stimmig waren. Siehe Hysterie und sexuelle Obsession.
Insofern fand ich dann Musil in dieser Hinsicht doppelt schlampig, denn er hat die psychiatrischen Inhalte durch die Hansdampffigur und Erkl盲rb盲r Arnheim erl盲utern lassen und durchaus schon aufs Tapet seines Romans gepackt. Musil war aber dann selbst offensichtlich entweder zu faul, zu schlampig oder zu ungebildet, die erw盲hnten und verwursteten damals bekannten wissenschaftlichen Hintergr眉nde auch tats盲chlich zu recherchieren, zu lesen, zu verstehen und somit auch korrekt in seinen Roman, die Handlung und die Figurenkonzeption einzubauen. Letztendlich f眉rchte ich, dass Musil leider mit dem Zitieren von psychiatrischen und psychoanalytischen Theorien, dasselbe verfolgt hat. Gleich seinem Protagonisten Arnheim wirft er aus bildungsb眉rgerlicher Eitelkeit ein paar Theorien in den Roman, um als klug und belesen zu gelten, ohne sie jemals gelesen, geschweige denn verstanden zu haben, in der Hoffnung seine Zeitgenossen kennen sich eh nicht aus und hinterfragen nicht. Quasi Bullshitbingo und Namedropping um 1913. Der Herr Doktor Schnitzler h盲tte ihm sein Manuskript zerrissen, w盲hrenddessen er ihn ausgelacht, ihn anschlie脽end eingewiesen und zu Sigmund Freud in die Zwangstherapie gesteckt h盲tte. Damit er endlich wei脽, wovon er schreibt.
In dem Zusammenhang kann auch gleich Clarisses Ehemann Walter und der Freund der Familie Meingast zus盲tzlich aus dem Roman gestrichen werden, denn auch sie tragen nahezu nichts zur Handlung und zu den Theorien bei. Au脽er dass Meingast anscheinend den deutschnationalen Philosophen Ludwig Klages verk枚rpert und zudem als Kindersch盲nder dargestellt wird.
Im Bereich unkorrekter Theorien soll auch noch das Wissenschaftskapitel erw盲hnt werden, das recht einseitig betrachtet ist und sogar schon falsch zur damaligen Zeit, denn Musil beurteilt die Wissenschaft nur als theoretische Disziplin mit Theorien und Modellen und nicht als angewandte und empirische Forschung inklusive Innovationsmanagement mit harter Arbeit und vielen Versuchen. Selbst um 1900 gab es in der Forschung nicht nur den Tesla-Prototyp eines Wissenschaftlers, sondern es gab schon seit l盲ngerer Zeit auch die Edison-Methode, die mit viel Arbeit, viel Manpower und vielen Versuchen im Rahmen eines kontinuierlichen Verbesserungsprozesses neue Forschungsergebnisse produzierte. Wenn ich 眉ber ein Gebiet, von dem ich keine Ahnung habe, philosophiere, muss ich entweder ordentlich recherchieren, oder die Finger davon lassen.
Auch meine so geliebte Figur des Angelo Soliman, der eigentlich ein historischer Anachronismus ist, denn die reale Person lebte um 1750, tr盲gt so gut wie gar nichts zur Handlung bei und kann damit auch aus diesem ausufernden Konvolut gestrichen werden.
Auch wenn manche der von mir aufgez盲hlten Figuren ein klitzekleines Sch盲ufelchen zum Roman beitragen, ein modernerer nicht so m眉hsamer Schriftsteller wie Musli, der offensichtlich unter der Zwangsst枚rung Figurenmessie leidet, h盲tte sie abgemurkst, wenn sie dem Roman nicht mehr dienen. Ich denke nun mit Wehmut an Robert Menasse, der dieses Problem in seinem auch ausufernden Roman, die Hauptstadt, derart recht elegant gel枚st hat, und bei脽e mir auf die Zunge, dass ich 眉berhaupt Kritik daran ge眉bt und ein Sternderl abgezogen habe. Letztendlich habe ich mich bei all diesem unn枚tigen Personal immer gefragt XXX? Tut der/die was zum Roman? Erkenntnis? Handlung? Katalysator? Anything? 鈥� und wollte nur noch als fiktive Lektorin wild und gnadenlos mit dem Rotstift Figuren metzeln und ein veritables Blutbad anrichten.
Im dritten Teil wird es am Anfang wieder besser. Ulrichs Schwester Agathe bereichert den Roman, die Reise zum letzten Wohnsitz des Vaters wirkt wie ein Urlaub von den m眉hsamen Wiener Protagonisten. Vor allem auf Ulrich wirkt sie sehr positiv und sie sieht zu Beginn auch tats盲chlich wie die erste vern眉nftige Frau aus, in diesem Meer an hysterischen nutzlosen Weibern 鈥� aber dann 鈥� was hat sich der Autor dabei gedacht, hier die recht liebevolle, normale Bruder-Schwester Beziehung pl枚tzlich und ohne Vorwarnung in ein inzestu枚ses Verh盲ltnis kippen zu lassen, das auch nur gedacht, angedeutet und nie vollzogen wird. Innerhalb von einem Tag will Agathe ihrem Mann das geerbte Verm枚gen nicht zugestehen - total logisch, wenn sie sich scheiden lassen will - dann hat sie Todessehnsucht und will sich umbringen, was die erste Aktion total sinnlos macht und zum Schluss tr盲umt sie in den n盲chsten zehn Minuten vom Inzest mit dem Bruder. Total bekloppt diese Konstruktion und psychologisch 眉berhaupt nicht nachvollziehbar, wenn man ein bisschen Freud gelesen und auch verstanden hat. Aber es wird noch toller, die Handlung zerfleddert ins totale Nirwana. Agathe, die sich schon seit Jahren aufs Umbringen vorbereitet hat, hat, als sie endlich Ernst machen will, das Gift vergessen, auf den Friedhof mitzunehmen. Nun steht sie da, diese Dilettantin (wobei ja der Autor der Dilettant ist, dem so etwas einf盲llt), will sich umbringen und wei脽 nicht womit. Dann bringt sie ganz pl枚tzlich ein Mann vom erb盲rmlichen Vorhaben ohne Erfolgsaussicht ab, indem er sie nur anspricht und die Guteste sch枚pft aus unerkl盲rlichen Gr眉nden spontan in der Sekunde wieder Lebensmut. Die angedeutete inzestu枚se Beziehung zwischen Agathe und Ulrich verpufft auch gleich wieder ins Nichts, genauso 眉berraschend, wie sie gekommen ist. Also das ist keine konsistente Figurenentwicklung 鈥� von Meisterwerk brauchen wir hier wirklich nicht zu sprechen. Mein Lesefreund Armin hat mir gesteckt, dass in den herausgestrichenen Skizzen aus Musils Gesamtwerk der Inzest genauer thematisiert wird, aber durch das Lektorat keinen Eingang in den Roman gefunden hat. Also entweder fehlt hier viel zu viel oder man h盲tte alles umschreiben und streichen m眉ssen.
Dass am Ende bei der Parallelaktion nichts rauskommt und der Roman wirkt, als ob Musil einfach aufgegeben und die Schreibmaschine hat fallen lassen, ist nur symptomatisch f眉r dieses unrunde, unausgegorene, ausufernde Werk, das offensichtlich wie eine alles verschlingende Hydra an Handlungsstr盲ngen und Figuren nicht mehr zu beherrschen war. Wie gesagt, ein strenges besseres Lektorat h盲tte die genialen Analysen herausgestrichen, die schlechten Teile gestrafft und somit die gro脽artigen Passagen derart in den Vordergrund ger眉ckt, sodass der Gesamteindruck besser gewesen w盲re.
Fazit: 3 Sterne denn die g盲hnende Langeweile und das schlechte Handwerk wogen bedauerlicherweise gleichschwer wie die genialen Passagen.
So kann ich kurz und knackig f眉r mich dieses epochale Werk in seiner Gesamtheit abschlie脽end analysieren. In diesem mehr als 1000 Seiten umfassenden riesen Ziegel, mit dem man sogar Leute erschlagen k枚nnte, wechseln sich wahrhaft grandiose Analysen und gut gezeichnete Figuren, die in der Literatur ihresgleichen suchen, mit ganz schlechten, handwerklich schrecklich gemachten Passagen ab, wobei im zweiten Drittel wirklich der Tiefpunkt erreicht wird. Ich frage mich schon, wie die Literaturkritik vor so einem Murks, der weite Strecken des Mittelteils und das Ende betrifft, die Augen verschlie脽en kann und das Gesamtwerk als Meisterwerk betitelt. Man muss doch ein Buch in seiner Gesamtheit betrachten und kann sich nicht nur die genialen Szenen f眉r die Beurteilung herauspicken. Details zu meinen Kritikpunkten werde ich noch genauer ausf眉hren. Zu Beginn dachte ich noch, der Roman w盲re gar nicht lektoriert worden und meinte, ein kluges, strenges, straffendes Lektorat, das auf mindestens 400 Seiten und bei einigen nutzlosen Figuren den Rotstift ansetzt, h盲tte dem Roman gutgetan, nun bin ich eines Besseren belehrt worden, der Roman wurde tats盲chlich lektoriert und noch viel mehr Szenen wurden gestrichen, als die Geschichte auch f眉r Musil eskalierte, da er zu keinem Ende kommen konnte.
Aber fangen wir mit den genialen Punkten an. Musil zeichnet ein gro脽artiges Sittenbild der 枚sterreichischen Gesellschaft um 1913 鈥� die er Kakanien nennt. Er f眉hrt zu diesem Zweck neben sehr vielen unterschiedlichen Figuren aus allen Schichten des Landes die Parallelaktion ein, quasi ein Projekt, in dem anl盲sslich des Geburtstages seiner Majest盲t Kaiser Franz Josef in einem Salon unterschiedlichste Schichten und Branchen zusammenkommen, um irgendeine Idee f眉r Kaisers Geburtstag kreieren. Das hat etwas von Brainstorming und modernem Projektmanagement mit viel B眉rokratie in einem lockeren Rahmen, wobei das Projekt daran krankt, dass es keine Vorgaben gibt, was 眉berhaupt dabei herauskommen soll.
Diese geniale Konstruktion erlaubt dem Autor all seine Figuren aus den unterschiedlichen Schichten miteinander zu verweben, sie teilweise an einem Ort zusammenzubringen und dabei gleichzeitig eine 360 Grad Umschau auf die Gesellschaft und einen gr枚脽eren Zusammenhang herzustellen, den er ansonsten mit Figuren an den Haaren herbeiziehen h盲tte m眉ssen: Die gro脽e Parallelaktion bildet auch Unterausssch眉sse und wird im Hinblick auf das noch nicht definierte Ziel der gro脽en Aktion analysiert: Wissenschaft, Presse, Milit盲r, Beamte, Bankiers, Bildungsb眉rgertum, Schw盲tzer, Politik, Nationalismus, Rechtssystem鈥� es fehlt eigentlich nur der Kaiser selbst in diesem.
Da gibt es beispielsweise im unz盲hligen Personal, das den Roman bev枚lkert, den Protagonisten, den Mann ohne Eigenschaften Ulrich, der fr眉her Wissenschaftler war, den deutschen Schw盲tzer und Industriellen Arnheim, ein Hansdampf und Blender in allen Gassen, Ulrichs Cousine Diotima, die den Salon f眉hrt, st盲ndig mit den Intellektuellen lieb盲ugelt, um ihr fades Leben als Beamtengattin aufzumotzen, die deutsch-j眉dische Bankiersfamilie Fischl, die mit dem Antisemitismus ihrer eigenen Tochter k盲mpft, die sich in einen jungen deutschnationalen Burschen verliebt hat, der General Stumm, der durch seinen milit盲rischen Hintergrund als einziger f盲hig ist, ein bisschen Ordnung in das Chaos des Projektes und der vielen Ideen zu bringen, ein paar Geliebte des Protagonisten Ulrich, Ulrichs Freund Walter mit seiner Frau Clarisse und noch viele weitere Figuren.
Die politische Analyse auf Basis der Gesellschaftsanalyse ist grandios. Mit jeder Faser sp眉ren die Figuren dieser Zeit, dass etwas mit den Menschen und der Gesellschaft im Argen liegt bzw. den dr盲uenden Weltenbrand und das geht weit 眉ber Kulturpessimismus, den es zu allen Zeiten gab, hinaus. Weiters werden selbstverst盲ndlich mit viel Humor in treffenden Analysen die Probleme des Vielv枚lkerstaates aufs Tapet gebracht.
Am Ende des ersten Drittels, nicht nach Kapiteln sondern so nach etwa 350 Seiten, hat sich Musil bis auf ein paar Lichtblicke meiner Meinung nach total 眉bernommen. Da die Figuren in ausreichender Tiefe schon eingef眉hrt sind, wird eine erneute Analyse abseits einer menschlichen Weiterentwicklung zum nutzlosen Geschw盲tz. Die Gesellschaftsanalyse kommt eben nur in den Kapiteln mit Lichtblick voran, die nun sp盲rlich werden. Musil hat sich verphilosophiert und scheitert auch an seinem eigenen Anspruch, denn er kann die Qualit盲t, die zu Beginn permanent aufblitzt nicht auf Dauer halten. Zugegeben, man kann man als Autor nicht immer nur auf der Spitze des Niveaus operieren, aber die qualitativen T盲ler, durch die man als Leser waten muss, werden mit zunehmender L盲nge des Romans bedauerlicherweise breiter und h盲ufiger.
Unn枚tige, schlecht gezeichnete Figuren und schlecht recherchierte Theorien
Was ich nie ganz verstehen will, sind einige Figuren, die zwar mitspielen, aber weder etwas f眉r die Handlung tun, noch irgendwelche Beitr盲ge zum philosophischen Unterbau leisten. Zum Beispiel der ausladende Erz盲hlstrang des Frauenm枚rders Moosbrugger, dessen Verurteilung zum Tode nicht nur in den Salons mit gruselnder Bewunderung ob der ziellosen Gewaltt盲tigkeit diskutiert wird 鈥� was ich ja verstehen kann - sondern der in einzelnen g盲hnend langweiligen Szenen auch noch mitspielen muss.
Mir kommt diese Figur als fiktives Zeitgeistphantom vor, das man aus den damaligen Medien kennt, so wie Charles Manson, der in den 70er Jahren als verehrtes Monster in die Hippie-Kultur einging. Das war so ein fernes fiktives Monster, das einen erschaudern lie脽, 眉ber das man diskutierte und das man verehrte, aber sicher nicht in der Realit盲t in der Nachbarschaft haben wollte.
Bei all dem Geschwafel der Protagonisten, konnte mir Musil auch nie die Motive von Clarisse, der Frau des Freundes Walter erkl盲ren. Sie verh盲lt sich v枚llig ambivalent bekloppt und wird als etwas wahnhaft beschrieben. Aber selbst Personen mit massiven psychischen St枚rungen und wahnhaftem Verhalten haben in ihrem Wahn Motive, die zwar nicht dem Normalbild entsprechen, aber in sich konsistent sind. Clarisse verh盲lt sich total uneinheitlich und setzt Handlungen ohne ersichtliche Motivlage. Sie ist als Figur n盲mlich extrem schlampig gezeichnet. Vor allem auch dem Umstand geschuldet, dass es 1913 schon sehr viele Ans盲tze der Psychologie und Psychiatrie gab und eben verr眉ckte Frauen von M盲nnern nicht mehr total unlogisch abkategorisiert wurden, sondern in Psychoanalyse und Psychiatrie durchaus schon konsistente Erkl盲rungsmuster bestanden, die zwar im Gedankengeb盲ude nicht unbedingt stimmten, aber dennoch in sich stimmig waren. Siehe Hysterie und sexuelle Obsession.
Insofern fand ich dann Musil in dieser Hinsicht doppelt schlampig, denn er hat die psychiatrischen Inhalte durch die Hansdampffigur und Erkl盲rb盲r Arnheim erl盲utern lassen und durchaus schon aufs Tapet seines Romans gepackt. Musil war aber dann selbst offensichtlich entweder zu faul, zu schlampig oder zu ungebildet, die erw盲hnten und verwursteten damals bekannten wissenschaftlichen Hintergr眉nde auch tats盲chlich zu recherchieren, zu lesen, zu verstehen und somit auch korrekt in seinen Roman, die Handlung und die Figurenkonzeption einzubauen. Letztendlich f眉rchte ich, dass Musil leider mit dem Zitieren von psychiatrischen und psychoanalytischen Theorien, dasselbe verfolgt hat. Gleich seinem Protagonisten Arnheim wirft er aus bildungsb眉rgerlicher Eitelkeit ein paar Theorien in den Roman, um als klug und belesen zu gelten, ohne sie jemals gelesen, geschweige denn verstanden zu haben, in der Hoffnung seine Zeitgenossen kennen sich eh nicht aus und hinterfragen nicht. Quasi Bullshitbingo und Namedropping um 1913. Der Herr Doktor Schnitzler h盲tte ihm sein Manuskript zerrissen, w盲hrenddessen er ihn ausgelacht, ihn anschlie脽end eingewiesen und zu Sigmund Freud in die Zwangstherapie gesteckt h盲tte. Damit er endlich wei脽, wovon er schreibt.
In dem Zusammenhang kann auch gleich Clarisses Ehemann Walter und der Freund der Familie Meingast zus盲tzlich aus dem Roman gestrichen werden, denn auch sie tragen nahezu nichts zur Handlung und zu den Theorien bei. Au脽er dass Meingast anscheinend den deutschnationalen Philosophen Ludwig Klages verk枚rpert und zudem als Kindersch盲nder dargestellt wird.
Im Bereich unkorrekter Theorien soll auch noch das Wissenschaftskapitel erw盲hnt werden, das recht einseitig betrachtet ist und sogar schon falsch zur damaligen Zeit, denn Musil beurteilt die Wissenschaft nur als theoretische Disziplin mit Theorien und Modellen und nicht als angewandte und empirische Forschung inklusive Innovationsmanagement mit harter Arbeit und vielen Versuchen. Selbst um 1900 gab es in der Forschung nicht nur den Tesla-Prototyp eines Wissenschaftlers, sondern es gab schon seit l盲ngerer Zeit auch die Edison-Methode, die mit viel Arbeit, viel Manpower und vielen Versuchen im Rahmen eines kontinuierlichen Verbesserungsprozesses neue Forschungsergebnisse produzierte. Wenn ich 眉ber ein Gebiet, von dem ich keine Ahnung habe, philosophiere, muss ich entweder ordentlich recherchieren, oder die Finger davon lassen.
Auch meine so geliebte Figur des Angelo Soliman, der eigentlich ein historischer Anachronismus ist, denn die reale Person lebte um 1750, tr盲gt so gut wie gar nichts zur Handlung bei und kann damit auch aus diesem ausufernden Konvolut gestrichen werden.
Auch wenn manche der von mir aufgez盲hlten Figuren ein klitzekleines Sch盲ufelchen zum Roman beitragen, ein modernerer nicht so m眉hsamer Schriftsteller wie Musli, der offensichtlich unter der Zwangsst枚rung Figurenmessie leidet, h盲tte sie abgemurkst, wenn sie dem Roman nicht mehr dienen. Ich denke nun mit Wehmut an Robert Menasse, der dieses Problem in seinem auch ausufernden Roman, die Hauptstadt, derart recht elegant gel枚st hat, und bei脽e mir auf die Zunge, dass ich 眉berhaupt Kritik daran ge眉bt und ein Sternderl abgezogen habe. Letztendlich habe ich mich bei all diesem unn枚tigen Personal immer gefragt XXX? Tut der/die was zum Roman? Erkenntnis? Handlung? Katalysator? Anything? 鈥� und wollte nur noch als fiktive Lektorin wild und gnadenlos mit dem Rotstift Figuren metzeln und ein veritables Blutbad anrichten.
Im dritten Teil wird es am Anfang wieder besser. Ulrichs Schwester Agathe bereichert den Roman, die Reise zum letzten Wohnsitz des Vaters wirkt wie ein Urlaub von den m眉hsamen Wiener Protagonisten. Vor allem auf Ulrich wirkt sie sehr positiv und sie sieht zu Beginn auch tats盲chlich wie die erste vern眉nftige Frau aus, in diesem Meer an hysterischen nutzlosen Weibern 鈥� aber dann 鈥� was hat sich der Autor dabei gedacht, hier die recht liebevolle, normale Bruder-Schwester Beziehung pl枚tzlich und ohne Vorwarnung in ein inzestu枚ses Verh盲ltnis kippen zu lassen, das auch nur gedacht, angedeutet und nie vollzogen wird. Innerhalb von einem Tag will Agathe ihrem Mann das geerbte Verm枚gen nicht zugestehen - total logisch, wenn sie sich scheiden lassen will - dann hat sie Todessehnsucht und will sich umbringen, was die erste Aktion total sinnlos macht und zum Schluss tr盲umt sie in den n盲chsten zehn Minuten vom Inzest mit dem Bruder. Total bekloppt diese Konstruktion und psychologisch 眉berhaupt nicht nachvollziehbar, wenn man ein bisschen Freud gelesen und auch verstanden hat. Aber es wird noch toller, die Handlung zerfleddert ins totale Nirwana. Agathe, die sich schon seit Jahren aufs Umbringen vorbereitet hat, hat, als sie endlich Ernst machen will, das Gift vergessen, auf den Friedhof mitzunehmen. Nun steht sie da, diese Dilettantin (wobei ja der Autor der Dilettant ist, dem so etwas einf盲llt), will sich umbringen und wei脽 nicht womit. Dann bringt sie ganz pl枚tzlich ein Mann vom erb盲rmlichen Vorhaben ohne Erfolgsaussicht ab, indem er sie nur anspricht und die Guteste sch枚pft aus unerkl盲rlichen Gr眉nden spontan in der Sekunde wieder Lebensmut. Die angedeutete inzestu枚se Beziehung zwischen Agathe und Ulrich verpufft auch gleich wieder ins Nichts, genauso 眉berraschend, wie sie gekommen ist. Also das ist keine konsistente Figurenentwicklung 鈥� von Meisterwerk brauchen wir hier wirklich nicht zu sprechen. Mein Lesefreund Armin hat mir gesteckt, dass in den herausgestrichenen Skizzen aus Musils Gesamtwerk der Inzest genauer thematisiert wird, aber durch das Lektorat keinen Eingang in den Roman gefunden hat. Also entweder fehlt hier viel zu viel oder man h盲tte alles umschreiben und streichen m眉ssen.
Dass am Ende bei der Parallelaktion nichts rauskommt und der Roman wirkt, als ob Musil einfach aufgegeben und die Schreibmaschine hat fallen lassen, ist nur symptomatisch f眉r dieses unrunde, unausgegorene, ausufernde Werk, das offensichtlich wie eine alles verschlingende Hydra an Handlungsstr盲ngen und Figuren nicht mehr zu beherrschen war. Wie gesagt, ein strenges besseres Lektorat h盲tte die genialen Analysen herausgestrichen, die schlechten Teile gestrafft und somit die gro脽artigen Passagen derart in den Vordergrund ger眉ckt, sodass der Gesamteindruck besser gewesen w盲re.
Fazit: 3 Sterne denn die g盲hnende Langeweile und das schlechte Handwerk wogen bedauerlicherweise gleichschwer wie die genialen Passagen.
October 19, 2016
鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 丕賱兀氐賱賷 : 佗贍佟佗
乇賵丕賷丞 兀賱賲丕賳賷丞 囟禺賲丞 亘賰賱 賲毓丕賳賷 丕賱囟禺丕賲丞貙 囟禺賲丞 丕賱丨噩賲 賵丕賱賮賱爻賮丞貙 廿賳賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 兀賮賰丕乇 毓馗賷賲丞 賰賲丕 兀賳賴丕 卮賴丕丿丞 賲丐孬乇丞 毓賱賶 乇賮囟 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 賱賮賯丿 廿賳爻丕賳賷鬲賴 毓亘乇 毓賷卮 丕亘爻胤 賵丕噩賲賱 賲毓丕賳賷 丕賱鬲毓亘賷乇 丕賱丨賷丕鬲賷 丕賱賷賵賲賷
乇賵丕賷丞 兀賱賲丕賳賷丞 囟禺賲丞 亘賰賱 賲毓丕賳賷 丕賱囟禺丕賲丞貙 囟禺賲丞 丕賱丨噩賲 賵丕賱賮賱爻賮丞貙 廿賳賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 兀賮賰丕乇 毓馗賷賲丞 賰賲丕 兀賳賴丕 卮賴丕丿丞 賲丐孬乇丞 毓賱賶 乇賮囟 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳 賱賮賯丿 廿賳爻丕賳賷鬲賴 毓亘乇 毓賷卮 丕亘爻胤 賵丕噩賲賱 賲毓丕賳賷 丕賱鬲毓亘賷乇 丕賱丨賷丕鬲賷 丕賱賷賵賲賷
September 4, 2014
You cannot read this novel fast - you need to stop and think at almost each sentence. And this becomes quite hard work - I ended up reading with the pencil in my hand- but it is really rewarding if you are up to 1000 pages of ideas.
This novel, Proust and Ulysses are deservingly considered to be three pillars of the modernist literature of the 20th century. I have not read Ulysses yet but this novel is quite different from "In a search of a lost time". Proust investigates more the subconsciousness of people and their psychology. While Musel is more interested in the ideas and causal explanations of the reality.
In my view any book has got his optimal age when you would enjoy or benefit from it the most. For example I think to read Anna Karenina before you 30 is not to get the maximum out of the depth of the novel. You ought to have life experience to resonate with the story. Of course it is rather subjective. But in terms of this novel I regret I have not read it when I was 20 as a student at the University. Early 20s is the age when you start to rationalise the reality around yourself and try to explain it. Plus you are like sponge absorbing new knowledge and ideas. I am sure I would enjoy it even more than I enjoyed it now.
This novel is very modern and relevant today. The book can be practically split into the quotes. Here there are a few:
"There is no longer a whole man confronting a whole world only a human something moving about in a general culture medium."
"People use words only to hide their thoughts and use thoughts only to justify the wrongs they have done."
"Ideas have curious properties and one of them is that they turn into opposites when one tries to live up to them."
" In these last hundred years we've become much better acquainted with ourselves and nature and everything. But as a result the better we understand things in details the less we understand the whole. What we get is a great many more systems in order and much less order overall."
This novel, Proust and Ulysses are deservingly considered to be three pillars of the modernist literature of the 20th century. I have not read Ulysses yet but this novel is quite different from "In a search of a lost time". Proust investigates more the subconsciousness of people and their psychology. While Musel is more interested in the ideas and causal explanations of the reality.
In my view any book has got his optimal age when you would enjoy or benefit from it the most. For example I think to read Anna Karenina before you 30 is not to get the maximum out of the depth of the novel. You ought to have life experience to resonate with the story. Of course it is rather subjective. But in terms of this novel I regret I have not read it when I was 20 as a student at the University. Early 20s is the age when you start to rationalise the reality around yourself and try to explain it. Plus you are like sponge absorbing new knowledge and ideas. I am sure I would enjoy it even more than I enjoyed it now.
This novel is very modern and relevant today. The book can be practically split into the quotes. Here there are a few:
"There is no longer a whole man confronting a whole world only a human something moving about in a general culture medium."
"People use words only to hide their thoughts and use thoughts only to justify the wrongs they have done."
"Ideas have curious properties and one of them is that they turn into opposites when one tries to live up to them."
" In these last hundred years we've become much better acquainted with ourselves and nature and everything. But as a result the better we understand things in details the less we understand the whole. What we get is a great many more systems in order and much less order overall."
February 2, 2019
Ovo je bukvalno i figurativno najve膰e delo koje sam pro膷itao. Ima preko hiljadu i po strana, ali se ose膰am kao da sam pro膷itao deset puta toliko. I jo拧 nije zavr拧eno, na啪alost (ili na sre膰u - autor je izgleda planirao jo拧 mnogo stotina, mo啪da hiljada stranica). Zahteva mnogo vremena i truda, mnogo tra啪i ali jo拧 vi拧e daje. 沤anr: filozofski roman; re膷enice su duga膷ke, a zaplet zamr拧en. Stvarno ima mnogo filozofiranja (mnogi bi rekli i previ拧e) ali vi拧e otvara pitanja nego 拧to daje odgovore na njih. Glavni lik, 膷ovek bez osobina, je ironi膷an i poprili膷no ambivalentan prema svemu. Mnogo vi拧e teksta je posve膰eno razmi拧ljanju i raspravama nego doga膽ajima, tako da su likovi razra膽eni do najsitnijih detalja iako ih autor veoma 膷esto koristi da bi izneo svoje filozofske misli. U knjizi ne dominira nijedna tema a neke od njih su 膷ula i emocijie, moral i krivica, ljudski duh i duh vremena, religija i nauka, ljubav, rat i mir i jo拧 mnoge druge.
Delo sam otkrio preko 欧宝娱乐a, gde mi je preporu膷en jer sam 膷itao roman 膶arobni breg Tomasa Mana kome je vrlo sli膷an po stilu i koga 膷ak i nadma拧uje. Retko remek-delo, i vi拧e od toga.
Delo sam otkrio preko 欧宝娱乐a, gde mi je preporu膷en jer sam 膷itao roman 膶arobni breg Tomasa Mana kome je vrlo sli膷an po stilu i koga 膷ak i nadma拧uje. Retko remek-delo, i vi拧e od toga.
October 9, 2014
The song is 鈥楤ros鈥� by Panda Bear, maybe you鈥檝e heard of it. Anyway, have a wee listen to it now, a minute or so (or it'll make good background music while you read this review!) Okay, fine, it鈥檚 a breezy summery song, nothing too special. But did you hear the screaming, sobbing, racecar, owl hoots, or anything else that makes up the dense collection of samples? It鈥檚 blurry, messy, no two listens are alike. You pick up on different things each time. To me at least, listening to the song is like listening to life. I have no doubt it was written by a really clever guy.
It鈥檚 this same effect that The Man Without Qualities gave me, written by a clever guy, and like reading life. Like 鈥楤ros鈥�, it doesn鈥檛 really begin or end, and everything between those non-existent boundaries is a dense mess. So, quite a difficult thing to review, essentially. So you have to pick out the parts that speak to you. Back to the song for a bit, maybe you start to hear the wails, screams, animals, but then you think鈥� is that the hiss of a snake, a match being lit, a fuse? Are those children laughing or crying? Probably depending on who you are, you catch some parts, not others, and think of them one way, and not another. This brings me on to the meaning that I applied to TMWQ. It鈥檚 about the only thing I can offer by way of a review:
Pg. 188 (maybe my favourite sentence) 鈥淎rnheim had written that a man who inspects his suit is incapable of fearless conduct, because the mirror, originally created to give pleasure-as Arnheim explained it- had become an instrument of anxiety, like the clock, which is a substitute for the fact that our activities no longer follow a logical sequence鈥�
What I love about this is how it makes you seriously reevaluate two everyday objects and consider the influence they have upon you. Try covering up anything that wants to tell you the time (there鈥檚 a bloody lot of them), stop looking in mirrors. See what happens.
*deep breath*
Pg 328 鈥淲e can begin at once with the peculiar predilection of scientific thinking for mechanical, statistical and physical explanations that have, as it were, the heart cut out of them. The scientific mind sees kindness only as a special form of egotism; brings emotions into line with glandular secretions; notes that eight or nine tenths of a human being consists of water; explains our celebrated moral freedom as an automatic mental by-product of free trade; reduces beauty to good digestion and the proper distribution of fatty tissue; graphs the annual statistical curves of births and suicides to show that our intimate personal decisions are programmed behaviour; sees a connection between ecstasy and mental disease; equates the anus and the mouth as the rectal and the oral openings at either end of the same tube- such ideas, which expose the trick, as it were, behind the magic of human illusions, can always count on a kind of prejudice in their favour as being impeccably scientific. Certainly they demonstrate love of truth. But surrounding this clear, shining love is a predilection for disillusionment, compulsiveness, ruthlessness, cold intimidation, and dry rebuke, a spiteful predilection, or at least an involuntary emanation of such kind.鈥�
Here we have the dichotomy of science as a reasoning tool, demonstrating how little it actually helps us just to live. Man cannot live by science alone.
Pg. 409 鈥淪cience is possible only where situations repeat themselves, or where you have some control over them鈥� A cube would not be a cube if it were not just as rectangular at nine o鈥檆lock as seven鈥�. if you had never seen the moon before you鈥檇 think it was a flashlight. Incidentally, the reason God is such an embarrassment to science is that he was seen only once, at the Creation, before there were any trained observers around.鈥�
This quote best shows where Musil tries to blend mysticism with science, which I think is a brilliant idea, and something that is considered quite a contemporary movement ( stating that 鈥榊ou get to choose what to worship鈥�, or 鈥檚 , all three of them are on to something).
And two instances of him referencing awesome things other people said:
Pg 386 鈥淵ou know what Nietzsche says? Wanting to know for sure is like wanting to know where the ground is for your next step, mere cowardice. One has to start somewhere to act on one鈥檚 intentions, not just talk about it.鈥�
I love this because 鈥渨anting to know where the ground is鈥� is introduced as preposterous, not generally how it is thought of, but it is. We take for granted when we walk that there鈥檚 something there. But maybe we all live with more risk than we think. It鈥檚 correcting the attitude. Back to , this time , he argues that when you read classics, you are collecting pairs of glasses through which you see the world with different eyes. In this case, albeit not a direct Musil quote, I think you see a world with an accelerated risk all around, in every action, which makes you feel brave, since you鈥檝e been being brave all along, just by living. I find that empowering.
Pg 1030 鈥淭he English writer Surway鈥� distinguishes five [steps] in the process of successful reasoning: (a) close observation of an event, in which the observation immediately reveals problems of interpretation; (b) establishing such problems and defining them more narrowly; (c) hypothesis of a possible solution; (d) logically developing the consequences of this hypothesis; and (e) further observations, leading to an acceptance or rejection of the hypothesis and thereby to a successful outcome of the thinking process.鈥�
Often all skipped.
I had no idea that this book was in part an analysis of 鈥榣iving scientifically鈥�, but that part was clearly the most important to me. For obvious reasons, there鈥檚 not a lot of it in literature, at least that I鈥檝e found. I think I鈥檓 supposed to be reading science fiction, but I find a lot of it- even the serious stuff- a bit cheesy and obvious, and as for how we鈥檙e supposed to live with science, unhelpful (yeah that is too much- and I still read science fiction, but mostly just for pleasure). I鈥檓 about to embark on a career in chemical engineering, and strongly believe it鈥檚 what I was meant to do. People were always born writers, singers, artists, never chemical engineers, although I went to a really interesting lecture where professors of the Medieval Studies department described us as modern day alchemists, so yes, chemical engineering is an innate calling, but up until recently we鈥檝e just been untrained observers. I think that was my argument all along, or maybe Musil just helped me see it. But science and mysticism are knit together, you need not choose one or the other, and both may well be necessary for life satisfaction. This is what I got from The Man Without Qualities, but you can see the slant it has towards my opinion or attitude. The book is massive, perhaps you don鈥檛 agree with me or my interpretation, but you can at least see that intellectual exercise and depth that the book offers, and that鈥檚 still there for you to enjoy.
What will you see when you put on Musil鈥檚 glasses?
November 24, 2019
In un contesto sociale di stereotipi e persone dotate di una "qualit脿", si spiega la vita di Ulrich, uomo che, pi霉 che senza qualit脿, oserei definire irresoluto o inconcludente. Dotato di grande cultura e fine propensione all'analisi psicologico-filosofica (il romanzo 猫 densissimo di richiami a Nietzsche, Goethe, mistici, scrittori, artisti e via dicendo), Ulrich 猫 straordinario nel riuscir ad analizzare la vita e societ脿 in cui si ritrova a vivere, salvo poi non fare seguire affatto l'azione al pensiero. Dopo lunghe disquisizioni in merito a una questione, il protagonista sembra paralizzarsi nel momento in cui tali riflessioni andrebbero tradotte in pratica e richiudersi nuovamente nel proprio guscio dorato. Quasi avesse in mano le chiavi per spalancare ogni porta ma, consumato da mille dilemmi, non si sentisse all'altezza di un simile compito. Probabile emblema della crisi esistenziale, valoriale, etica che si consum貌 a inizi Novecento (e ancor di pi霉 dopo la seconda Guerra mondiale) e che anche riferita al contesto contemporaneo lascia trasparire la sua straordinaria attualit脿.
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January 24, 2016
BEST DAMN FICTION I HAVE EVER READ. And it's even unfinished. I can't imagine the finished book. Long live Herr Musil in the heavens of literature.
April 18, 2024
I completely understand why there are so many negative reviews. Having said that, for me this is instantly placed on the shelf of shelves that all readers have reserved for the few very special reads.
I speak a lot in my reviews about the crucial moment most of us go through with a varying degree of intensity depending upon how much of an inner life one lives: namely, that disappointment produced from the drastic difference between what we expected life to be like, and what it actually is like. In other words, we were mentally prepared and taught to expect certain things out of this world, and were set up for tremendous failure. Some of this is the fault of the systems we look up to to guide us that do not sufficiently prepare us for the ugliness involved in being human, and some of it is our own fault for being unwilling or unable to face this ugliness head on and cope with it.
Cue Musil and his 1,130 page (my edition) unfinished study of a certain place and time in history: pre-WW1 Vienna. And when I say pre-WW1, I mean literally 1913. These poor fools in this book have absolutely no idea what is coming, and Musil expertly uses that detail to critique the era, while at the same time showing that the universality of humanity鈥檚 potential for ignorance, brutality, and egotism is by no means exclusive to any specific era.
Ulrich, our main character, the 鈥渕an without qualities,鈥� is stuck with all of these ideas like a fossilized mosquito. He is not sure not only which way to move, but how to move, if he can move, and even if he can if moving is worth it. He is an extremely intelligent, and therefore extremely uncertain human being. He cannot double down on any philosophy, -ism, or way of life because just as he is about to adopt a potential idea or action, the application of it stalls out in his uncertainty. The thinking being is plagued with the irony of understanding that the more knowledge they gain, the more they learn how truly little they will ever know.
So Ulrich is stuck. In a state of ennui resulting from what he feels to be the insignificance of his past achievements and the futility of any potential endeavors, he decides to take a break and detach himself from the world to become an indifferent observer. But he is of course not indifferent nor is he truly a 鈥渕an without qualities.鈥�
He is an angry and bitter man. Enraged at a humanity whose priorities are all fucked up. As someone who lives almost entirely in his own head, he laments the value of the idea being almost entirely lost in this new age of materialism. Not only that, but in this rapidly changing world, he believes that there is no system of morality that one can point to as objectively 鈥淭HE鈥� right way to live. He rightly points out that what was considered moral by society yesterday, can be considered the worst of crimes today, all that changes is the perspective of society. So how does one live in light of this constantly shifting zeitgeist?
He would say practically as a being detached entirely, but ideally we could find someone with whom we could love, not in the conventional sense of love as we know it, aka possessive love, but an unselfish love in which we live wholly for the other person, and the other person for ourself, so that there can be no system of morality since morality is itself the state of our being. But anytime Ulrich is on the verge of physically implementing any of the staggeringly beautiful ideas he has, his uncertainty pulls him back just as he is about to pull the trigger.
Because he is never sure if he truly believes in any of his ideas, which is another thing that plagues many who are caught up in the life of the mind. We know how little we know, so making a commitment to any definitive way of living is often very difficult. This is why I started off by saying I understand the negative reviews of this book. It is an incredibly long book during which almost nothing concrete takes place, and during which there are endless difficult philosophical conversations. Contradictory philosophical discussions at that.
This is not most people鈥檚 cup of tea. It is challenging, dry, and Musil does not seem interested in the slightest in keeping the reader entertained. He expects you to work in reading and engaging just as hard as he clearly worked in writing this. And hey, we have a short time here, and if it鈥檚 not for you, I understand moving on. But for those who care about the inner life and the fundamental ideas of morality and humanity around which this novel revolves, do yourself a favor and take the time to read this absolutely wonderful and profound work of genius.
Here are a couple of my favorite quotes:
鈥溾€he difference between a normal and an insane one is precisely that the normal person has all the diseases of the mind, while the madman has only one!鈥�
鈥淗ow to describe it, then? Whether one is at rest or in motion, what matters is not what lies ahead, what one sees, hears, wants, takes, masters. It forms a horizon, a semicircle before one, but the ends of this semicircle are joined by a string, and the plane of this string goes right through the middle of the world. In front, the face and hands look out of it; sensations and striving run ahead of it, and no one doubts that whatever one does is always reasonable, or at least passionate. In other words, outer circumstances call for us to act in a way everyone can understand; and if, in the toils of passion, we do something incomprehensible, that too is, in its own way, understandable. Yet however understandable and self-contained everything seems, this is accompanied by an obscure feeling that it is only half the story. Something is not quite in balance, and a person presses forward, like a tightrope walker, in order not to sway and fall. And as he presses on through life and leaves lived life behind, the life ahead and the life already lived form a wall, and his path in the end resembles the path of a woodworm: no matter how it corkscrews forward or even backward, it always leaves an empty space behind it. And this horrible feeling of a blind, cutoff space behind the fullness of everything, this half that is always missing even when everything is a whole, this is what eventually makes one perceive what one calls the soul.鈥�
I speak a lot in my reviews about the crucial moment most of us go through with a varying degree of intensity depending upon how much of an inner life one lives: namely, that disappointment produced from the drastic difference between what we expected life to be like, and what it actually is like. In other words, we were mentally prepared and taught to expect certain things out of this world, and were set up for tremendous failure. Some of this is the fault of the systems we look up to to guide us that do not sufficiently prepare us for the ugliness involved in being human, and some of it is our own fault for being unwilling or unable to face this ugliness head on and cope with it.
Cue Musil and his 1,130 page (my edition) unfinished study of a certain place and time in history: pre-WW1 Vienna. And when I say pre-WW1, I mean literally 1913. These poor fools in this book have absolutely no idea what is coming, and Musil expertly uses that detail to critique the era, while at the same time showing that the universality of humanity鈥檚 potential for ignorance, brutality, and egotism is by no means exclusive to any specific era.
Ulrich, our main character, the 鈥渕an without qualities,鈥� is stuck with all of these ideas like a fossilized mosquito. He is not sure not only which way to move, but how to move, if he can move, and even if he can if moving is worth it. He is an extremely intelligent, and therefore extremely uncertain human being. He cannot double down on any philosophy, -ism, or way of life because just as he is about to adopt a potential idea or action, the application of it stalls out in his uncertainty. The thinking being is plagued with the irony of understanding that the more knowledge they gain, the more they learn how truly little they will ever know.
So Ulrich is stuck. In a state of ennui resulting from what he feels to be the insignificance of his past achievements and the futility of any potential endeavors, he decides to take a break and detach himself from the world to become an indifferent observer. But he is of course not indifferent nor is he truly a 鈥渕an without qualities.鈥�
He is an angry and bitter man. Enraged at a humanity whose priorities are all fucked up. As someone who lives almost entirely in his own head, he laments the value of the idea being almost entirely lost in this new age of materialism. Not only that, but in this rapidly changing world, he believes that there is no system of morality that one can point to as objectively 鈥淭HE鈥� right way to live. He rightly points out that what was considered moral by society yesterday, can be considered the worst of crimes today, all that changes is the perspective of society. So how does one live in light of this constantly shifting zeitgeist?
He would say practically as a being detached entirely, but ideally we could find someone with whom we could love, not in the conventional sense of love as we know it, aka possessive love, but an unselfish love in which we live wholly for the other person, and the other person for ourself, so that there can be no system of morality since morality is itself the state of our being. But anytime Ulrich is on the verge of physically implementing any of the staggeringly beautiful ideas he has, his uncertainty pulls him back just as he is about to pull the trigger.
Because he is never sure if he truly believes in any of his ideas, which is another thing that plagues many who are caught up in the life of the mind. We know how little we know, so making a commitment to any definitive way of living is often very difficult. This is why I started off by saying I understand the negative reviews of this book. It is an incredibly long book during which almost nothing concrete takes place, and during which there are endless difficult philosophical conversations. Contradictory philosophical discussions at that.
This is not most people鈥檚 cup of tea. It is challenging, dry, and Musil does not seem interested in the slightest in keeping the reader entertained. He expects you to work in reading and engaging just as hard as he clearly worked in writing this. And hey, we have a short time here, and if it鈥檚 not for you, I understand moving on. But for those who care about the inner life and the fundamental ideas of morality and humanity around which this novel revolves, do yourself a favor and take the time to read this absolutely wonderful and profound work of genius.
Here are a couple of my favorite quotes:
鈥溾€he difference between a normal and an insane one is precisely that the normal person has all the diseases of the mind, while the madman has only one!鈥�
鈥淗ow to describe it, then? Whether one is at rest or in motion, what matters is not what lies ahead, what one sees, hears, wants, takes, masters. It forms a horizon, a semicircle before one, but the ends of this semicircle are joined by a string, and the plane of this string goes right through the middle of the world. In front, the face and hands look out of it; sensations and striving run ahead of it, and no one doubts that whatever one does is always reasonable, or at least passionate. In other words, outer circumstances call for us to act in a way everyone can understand; and if, in the toils of passion, we do something incomprehensible, that too is, in its own way, understandable. Yet however understandable and self-contained everything seems, this is accompanied by an obscure feeling that it is only half the story. Something is not quite in balance, and a person presses forward, like a tightrope walker, in order not to sway and fall. And as he presses on through life and leaves lived life behind, the life ahead and the life already lived form a wall, and his path in the end resembles the path of a woodworm: no matter how it corkscrews forward or even backward, it always leaves an empty space behind it. And this horrible feeling of a blind, cutoff space behind the fullness of everything, this half that is always missing even when everything is a whole, this is what eventually makes one perceive what one calls the soul.鈥�
November 3, 2024
鈥淒e Man zonder Eigenchappen鈥� is de meest verbluffende roman die ik 2023 heb gelezen.
Toen ik hem in april uit had, had ik al een sterk vermoeden en nu kan ik het dus formeel bevestigen. Het boek is een monumentaal, meerlagig, meanderend meesterwerk (sorry!馃槈).
Het verscheen in 2 delen in 1930 en 1933 en telt meer dan 1300 bladzijden in de Nederlandse vertaling. (Musil鈥檚 weduwe publiceerde na diens dood ook een derde deel in 1943 maar dat werd bij mijn weten niet in het Nederlands vertaald). Het is echter niet enkel de lengte maar ook de literaire ambitie en de veelheid aan onderwerpen die erin worden behandeld die de roman monumentaal maken.
De centrale plot die de verschillende personages bij elkaar brengt laat zich nochtans eenvoudig samenvatten. In het Wenen van 1913 besluiten een aantal notabelen dat de zeventigste verjaardag van de troonsbestijging door Keizer Frans Jozef in 1918 de gepaste luister moet worden meegegeven door een grote viering. Dit is des te belangrijker voor de Oostenrijkse aristocratie daar ook in Duitsland in hetzelfde jaar een grote viering wordt gepland ter ere van keizer Wilhelm II. Vandaar de idee om er een groots jubileumjaar van te maken. Een organisatiecomit茅 voor deze zogenaamde 鈥減arallelactie鈥� wordt opgericht onder leiding van Zijne Doorluchtigheid graaf Leinsdorf met als bedoeling commissies uit alle groepen van de bevolking te raadplegen over de precieze vorm die het jubileumjaar moet aannemen. Ulrich, het hoofdpersonage uit de roman die door zijn vriend als 鈥渕an zonder eigenschappen鈥� wordt omschreven, raakt tegen zijn zin bij het organisatiecomit茅 betrokken. De jonge professor wiskunde die net had besloten 鈥渆en jaar vakantie te nemen van zijn leven鈥� draagt zelf weinig bij tot de oeverloze vergaderingen en discussies maar kijkt schijnbaar geamuseerd toe hoe iedereen benadrukt dat er 鈥渋ets鈥� moet gebeuren om van het jubileumjaar 鈥渆en luisterrijke manifestatie van Oostenrijks levenskracht鈥� te maken maar niemand in staat lijkt te zijn dat 鈥渋ets鈥� ook maar enige concrete inhoud te geven.
Naar goede modernistische traditie laat Musil dit ogenschijnlijk flinterdunne plotlijntje uitgroeien tot een tegelijk groots en grotesk epos over de menselijke conditie ( Ulysses iemand? /review/show...). 鈥淒e Man zonder Eigenschappen鈥� snijdt zoveel thema鈥檚 aan dat het moeilijk is om aan te geven waar het precies over gaat. De ontnuchterende en destabiliserende ervaring van de moderniteit, de geopolitieke ambities van het Oostenrijks-Hongaarse Keizerrijk aan de vooravond van de eerste wereldoorlog, het demonische in de kunst, de onvermoeibaarheid van de bureaucratie, schuld, boete en het bestaan van de menselijke vrijheid, de spanning tussen onze individuele identiteit en de sociale rollen die we worden geacht te vervullen; het zijn maar enkele van de thema鈥檚 die Musil schijnbaar achteloos doorheen de vertelling weeft zonder de interne samenhang van die laatste te ondermijnen (Nu ja, het boek is nooit echt 鈥渁f鈥� geraakt natuurlijk, maar de twee gepubliceerde delen vormen in elk geval een coherent en erg leesbaar geheel).
Ook de stijl van het boek is grandioos. Het staat bol van de meest fraaie volzinnen en welsprekende metaforen waarvan ik dacht dat alleen Proust en Thomas Mann er een patent op hadden. De toon is echter onmiskenbaar anders dan die van deze twee laatste auteurs; een stuk bijtender en dreigender en badend in naar sarcasme neigende ironie. Het hele boek lang rekent Musil genadeloos af met de kleinburgerlijke mentaliteit van de Oostenrijkse betere klassen die zichzelf verliezen in hoogdravende onbenulligheden aan de vooravond van het allesverwoestende conflict. Neem bijvoorbeeld deze beschrijving van Directeur-Generaal Tuzzi van het Ministerie van Buitenlandse Zaken:
"Zoals alle mannen wier fantasie niet aangetast wordt door het erotische, was Tuzzi in zijn vrijgezellentijd een rustige bordeelbezoeker geweest, en hij bracht de regelmatige ademhaling van deze gewoonte mee ten huwelijk. Diotima leerde de liefde zodoende kennen als iets heftigs, aanvalsgewijs, kortaangebondes, dat door een nog sterkere macht slechts een maal per week werd losgelaten."
Of deze wat puntigere omschrijving van Ulrich's jeugdvriend, de romantische kunstschilder Walter : "Hij had altijd een heel bijzonder vermogen bezeten om hevig te beleven. Hij kwam nooit toe aan wat hij wilde omdat hij zo veel voelde."
Musil鈥檚 sarcasme richt zich overigens niet uitsluitend tot een welbepaalde klasse uit het Oostenrijk van zijn tijd. De hele van dilettantisme doortrokken Duitse cultuur wordt op de korrel genomen aan de hand van een hele stoet van personages die elk op hun manier redeloos verloren blijken in de gefragmenteerde moderne samenleving waarin de kennisproductie in gedifferentieerde deeldomeinen een onmenselijk snelle vlucht heeft genomen. Zo is er de grootindustrieel Arnhem, de antisemitische pangermaanse nationalist Sepp, de Nietzscheaanse Clarisse, de geesteszieke moordenaar Moosbrugger en de ongeletterde maar listige generaal Stumm. Ze hebben elk een eigen overlevingsstrategie en kampen elk op hun eigen manier met de 鈥渙noverzichtelijke verscheidenheid van twijfels en mogelijkheden鈥� die de contemporaine cultuur uitmaken. Geen van hen slaagt erin om het overzicht te bewaren. Ook Ulrich zelf is daar niet toe in staat maar hij lijkt het er zich als 鈥渕an zonder eigenschappen鈥� op het eerste zicht mee te hebben verzoend. Ook diens permanent ironische houding ten aanzien van de hem omringende werkelijkheid blijkt echter onhoudbaar. Wanneer Diotima hem vraagt wat hij zou doen indien hij een dag lang de wereld zou kunnen regeren geeft hij toe dat 鈥渉et gevoel vaste grond onder je voeten te hebben en stevig in je vel te zitten, wat de meeste mensen zou natuurlijk lijkt, bij hem niet erg sterk ontwikkeld is鈥� en dat er hem dan ook 鈥渨aarschijnlijk niets anders zou overblijven dan de werkelijkheid af te schaffen.鈥�
Je voelt allicht al aan dat 鈥淒e Man zonder Eigenschappen鈥�, ondanks de vaak rake humor, niet echt een vrolijk boek is geworden. Toch is het wat mij betreft een echte aanrader, als je er van houdt om af en toe van je sokken te worden geblazen tenminste.
Veel leesplezier alvast.
Toen ik hem in april uit had, had ik al een sterk vermoeden en nu kan ik het dus formeel bevestigen. Het boek is een monumentaal, meerlagig, meanderend meesterwerk (sorry!馃槈).
Het verscheen in 2 delen in 1930 en 1933 en telt meer dan 1300 bladzijden in de Nederlandse vertaling. (Musil鈥檚 weduwe publiceerde na diens dood ook een derde deel in 1943 maar dat werd bij mijn weten niet in het Nederlands vertaald). Het is echter niet enkel de lengte maar ook de literaire ambitie en de veelheid aan onderwerpen die erin worden behandeld die de roman monumentaal maken.
De centrale plot die de verschillende personages bij elkaar brengt laat zich nochtans eenvoudig samenvatten. In het Wenen van 1913 besluiten een aantal notabelen dat de zeventigste verjaardag van de troonsbestijging door Keizer Frans Jozef in 1918 de gepaste luister moet worden meegegeven door een grote viering. Dit is des te belangrijker voor de Oostenrijkse aristocratie daar ook in Duitsland in hetzelfde jaar een grote viering wordt gepland ter ere van keizer Wilhelm II. Vandaar de idee om er een groots jubileumjaar van te maken. Een organisatiecomit茅 voor deze zogenaamde 鈥減arallelactie鈥� wordt opgericht onder leiding van Zijne Doorluchtigheid graaf Leinsdorf met als bedoeling commissies uit alle groepen van de bevolking te raadplegen over de precieze vorm die het jubileumjaar moet aannemen. Ulrich, het hoofdpersonage uit de roman die door zijn vriend als 鈥渕an zonder eigenschappen鈥� wordt omschreven, raakt tegen zijn zin bij het organisatiecomit茅 betrokken. De jonge professor wiskunde die net had besloten 鈥渆en jaar vakantie te nemen van zijn leven鈥� draagt zelf weinig bij tot de oeverloze vergaderingen en discussies maar kijkt schijnbaar geamuseerd toe hoe iedereen benadrukt dat er 鈥渋ets鈥� moet gebeuren om van het jubileumjaar 鈥渆en luisterrijke manifestatie van Oostenrijks levenskracht鈥� te maken maar niemand in staat lijkt te zijn dat 鈥渋ets鈥� ook maar enige concrete inhoud te geven.
Naar goede modernistische traditie laat Musil dit ogenschijnlijk flinterdunne plotlijntje uitgroeien tot een tegelijk groots en grotesk epos over de menselijke conditie ( Ulysses iemand? /review/show...). 鈥淒e Man zonder Eigenschappen鈥� snijdt zoveel thema鈥檚 aan dat het moeilijk is om aan te geven waar het precies over gaat. De ontnuchterende en destabiliserende ervaring van de moderniteit, de geopolitieke ambities van het Oostenrijks-Hongaarse Keizerrijk aan de vooravond van de eerste wereldoorlog, het demonische in de kunst, de onvermoeibaarheid van de bureaucratie, schuld, boete en het bestaan van de menselijke vrijheid, de spanning tussen onze individuele identiteit en de sociale rollen die we worden geacht te vervullen; het zijn maar enkele van de thema鈥檚 die Musil schijnbaar achteloos doorheen de vertelling weeft zonder de interne samenhang van die laatste te ondermijnen (Nu ja, het boek is nooit echt 鈥渁f鈥� geraakt natuurlijk, maar de twee gepubliceerde delen vormen in elk geval een coherent en erg leesbaar geheel).
Ook de stijl van het boek is grandioos. Het staat bol van de meest fraaie volzinnen en welsprekende metaforen waarvan ik dacht dat alleen Proust en Thomas Mann er een patent op hadden. De toon is echter onmiskenbaar anders dan die van deze twee laatste auteurs; een stuk bijtender en dreigender en badend in naar sarcasme neigende ironie. Het hele boek lang rekent Musil genadeloos af met de kleinburgerlijke mentaliteit van de Oostenrijkse betere klassen die zichzelf verliezen in hoogdravende onbenulligheden aan de vooravond van het allesverwoestende conflict. Neem bijvoorbeeld deze beschrijving van Directeur-Generaal Tuzzi van het Ministerie van Buitenlandse Zaken:
"Zoals alle mannen wier fantasie niet aangetast wordt door het erotische, was Tuzzi in zijn vrijgezellentijd een rustige bordeelbezoeker geweest, en hij bracht de regelmatige ademhaling van deze gewoonte mee ten huwelijk. Diotima leerde de liefde zodoende kennen als iets heftigs, aanvalsgewijs, kortaangebondes, dat door een nog sterkere macht slechts een maal per week werd losgelaten."
Of deze wat puntigere omschrijving van Ulrich's jeugdvriend, de romantische kunstschilder Walter : "Hij had altijd een heel bijzonder vermogen bezeten om hevig te beleven. Hij kwam nooit toe aan wat hij wilde omdat hij zo veel voelde."
Musil鈥檚 sarcasme richt zich overigens niet uitsluitend tot een welbepaalde klasse uit het Oostenrijk van zijn tijd. De hele van dilettantisme doortrokken Duitse cultuur wordt op de korrel genomen aan de hand van een hele stoet van personages die elk op hun manier redeloos verloren blijken in de gefragmenteerde moderne samenleving waarin de kennisproductie in gedifferentieerde deeldomeinen een onmenselijk snelle vlucht heeft genomen. Zo is er de grootindustrieel Arnhem, de antisemitische pangermaanse nationalist Sepp, de Nietzscheaanse Clarisse, de geesteszieke moordenaar Moosbrugger en de ongeletterde maar listige generaal Stumm. Ze hebben elk een eigen overlevingsstrategie en kampen elk op hun eigen manier met de 鈥渙noverzichtelijke verscheidenheid van twijfels en mogelijkheden鈥� die de contemporaine cultuur uitmaken. Geen van hen slaagt erin om het overzicht te bewaren. Ook Ulrich zelf is daar niet toe in staat maar hij lijkt het er zich als 鈥渕an zonder eigenschappen鈥� op het eerste zicht mee te hebben verzoend. Ook diens permanent ironische houding ten aanzien van de hem omringende werkelijkheid blijkt echter onhoudbaar. Wanneer Diotima hem vraagt wat hij zou doen indien hij een dag lang de wereld zou kunnen regeren geeft hij toe dat 鈥渉et gevoel vaste grond onder je voeten te hebben en stevig in je vel te zitten, wat de meeste mensen zou natuurlijk lijkt, bij hem niet erg sterk ontwikkeld is鈥� en dat er hem dan ook 鈥渨aarschijnlijk niets anders zou overblijven dan de werkelijkheid af te schaffen.鈥�
Je voelt allicht al aan dat 鈥淒e Man zonder Eigenschappen鈥�, ondanks de vaak rake humor, niet echt een vrolijk boek is geworden. Toch is het wat mij betreft een echte aanrader, als je er van houdt om af en toe van je sokken te worden geblazen tenminste.
Veel leesplezier alvast.
January 2, 2023
Inizio l'anno cos矛: terminando una lettura lunga, probante, audace e tremendamente complessa. Personaggi vari (maschili e femminili, questi ultimi particolarmente interessanti e contemporanei), interpreti di varie realt脿 e di prospettive: "L'uomo senza qualit脿" 猫 un romanzo caleidoscopico che restituisce l'impasse dell'uomo e cittadino novecentesco alle soglie della prima guerra mondiale, un uomo (Ulrich sopra tutti) alla ricerca dell'Assoluto, del Totalizzante, della Perfezione, dei propri confini liquidi e della fusione di s茅 col mondo verso l'ambizioso obiettivo dell'Estasi; in continua tensione platonica (e poca praxis), alla ricerca-definizione e continua riformulazione del concetto di uomo, di amore, di giusto e sbagliato, di mondo e di colpa, di debolezza e di istinto, di isolamento e contatto, di tutto. C'猫 tutto in questo romanzo. Un romanzo-infinito rimasto incompiuto ma che nell'incompiutezza trova la sua reale chiusura. Immagino Musil e lo immagino scrivere ancora e ancora fino alla fine, e avrebbe continuato -ancora e ancora-, se la fine non fosse stata nel '42. Un romanzo infinito perch茅 infiniti gli spunti di riflessione, nel tempo e nella Storia, soprattutto per un uomo pieno di qualit脿, qual 猫 in realt脿 quello di Musil, ma vittima dell'intellettualismo dei tempi, dell'inettitudine pragmatica, di interrogativi e di risposte che deflagrano in nuovi interrogativi e nuove risposte e cos矛 all'infinito.
January 27, 2020
(Riprendo il mio commento su Anobii, di due anni fa, lungo ma sentito)
"Chi pu貌 dire oggigiorno se il suo sdegno sia per davvero il suo sdegno."
Uno dei massimi libri della letteratura moderna. 鈥淚l difetto di questo libro 猫 di essere un libro. Di avere una copertina, un dorso, un鈥檌mpaginazione. Si dovrebbe stenderne un paio di pagine fra lastre di vetro e cambiarle ogni tanto. Allora si vedrebbe che cosa 猫..."
(Robert Musil nei diari a proposito de L鈥檜omo senza qualit脿)
Ho riletto alcune parti dell'Uomo senza qualit脿 (USQ) e letto per la prima volta le parti non concluse e pubblicate postume (dopo il 鈥�42), capitoli che egli non fece in tempo ad aggiungere. Come si capir脿 leggendolo egli non fece in tempo poich茅 le variazioni di vita che aveva sperimentato conducevano a un vicolo cieco. Per cui Musil si sente come Ulisse che supera le colonne d鈥橢rcole e finisce in mare aperto e sconfinato. L鈥橴lisse di Dante e non quello di Joyce. Un rivolo d鈥檃cqua si gonfia sempre pi霉 e diventa mare. Ma in questo mare si possono rintracciare storie interne, relazioni tra i personaggi, ed 猫 questo che conta davvero; relazioni rese in modo stupefacente che ancora oggi sono di una grandezza e modernit脿 sconcertanti quanto a stile, presa sul lettore, scintillare delle idee. Confrontando i Diari di Musil, la sua biografia e l鈥橴SQ si scoprono molte cose interessanti.
Come 猫 noto l鈥檜ltima parte de l鈥橴SQ riguarda Ulrich, il protagonista, che reincontra sua sorella Agathe che aveva visto ben poco in vita sua. Lei 猫 reduce dal secondo matrimonio, il primo marito, che amava, 猫 morto e con il secondo che non ama si sta lasciando. Lei ha 27 anni e Ulrich 33. Siamo nel 1913. Tutto il libro 猫 ambientato in quell鈥檃nno. L鈥橴SQ potrebbe finire qui, con il padre di Ulrich e Agathe che muore e loro due che si rivedono, ma Musil prosegue e si incanala in una sorta di viaggio tra Ulrich e sua sorella, fatto di comprensione per le loro vicissitudini, fatto di spirito e di corpo che non approda a nulla, bello solo da leggere per alcuni passaggi molto poetici (come Il famoso Viaggio in paradiso). Per cui l鈥橴SQ 猫 per molti aspetti concluso gi脿 all鈥檌nizio della terza parte. Circa 130 capitoli e 900 pagine.
Ecco, dopo questa introduzione un po鈥� doverosa e pedante entro nelle vene dell鈥檕pera.
Beh, di cosa tratta l鈥橴SQ? Non 猫 vero che 猫 impossibile spiegarlo, 猫 invece abbastanza facile. L鈥橴SQ 猫 un libro in cui i personaggi vogliono vivificarsi come facciamo tutti, ma per vivificarci, Musil lo chiama l鈥檃ltro stato, non possiamo che andare e tornare da questo stato, come succede quando gustiamo un film che ci commuove, che ci scuote particolarmente, come facciamo con l鈥檃more, con una vacanza, come facciamo con tutti i momenti vivificanti, non possiamo sostare ma andare e riandare. In questo andare e riandare Musil inserisce un po鈥� di tutto, la conversazione, che pu貌 essere eccitante quando si affrontano argomenti interessanti in uno spirito giusto. Quindi il ruolo del talento, dell鈥檃rte, della musica, della comunicazione, della stampa, della politica, delle emozioni, del sesso, delle nevrosi eccetera. Facebook, la rete in generale, sarebbe stato un ottimo argomento aggiuntivo per Musil. Ma tutto questo ipotizzare Musil lo rende vivo perch茅 i suoi personaggi sono stati vivi, con lui. Egli inizia ad annotare alcune bozze di comportamenti di amici, conoscenti e gente nota della sua epoca fin da quando aveva 25 anni. A pi霉 riprese li modifica. A 40 anni comincia a scrivere l鈥橴SQ, lo porta avanti per nove anni senza comporlo. Poi nel 1929, in un anno e mezzo scrive e compone in bella copia le prime 850 pagine. 123 capitoli. Escono a novembre del 1930 quando ha appena compiuto 50 anni.
Cos矛 scrive Bianca Cetti Marinoni nell鈥檌ntroduzione: 鈥�(l鈥檃ltro stato) attingibile da ciascuno in intense esperienze amorose cos矛 come nel pieno godimento dell鈥檃rte e della percezione profonda del sacro, non pu貌 essere uno stato durevole ma solo intermittente: esso consiste in una temporanea uscita dalla vita consueta, in cui si rientra portando con s茅 il proprio sentimento di quest鈥檃ltra dimensione. E dunque proprio qui, nella vita consueta, si gioca per Musil la difficile partita conclusiva: vi si pu貌 rientrare chiudendo quell鈥檈sperienza nella parentesi di una vacanza, tornando a quella coesistenza separata e contraddittoria di interiorit脿 e calcolo, passione e ideologia che gi脿 abbiamo visto scatenare l鈥檌ronia di Musil; oppure facendo s矛 che questa vita sia guidata dalle motivazioni dell鈥檃ltra, e perseguire questa meta per approssimazioni successive, per tentativi casuali ma dotati di senso, ossia organicamente correlati.鈥�
In altre parole, i personaggi di Musil (almeno alcuni) fanno in modo di conquistare la realt脿 senza perdere il sogno, portano con loro, sempre presenti, il desiderio, di quello che hanno bramato, ma un desiderio che sfugge a loro stessi. Alcuni sono professionisti e inseriti nel mondo degli affari, altri come Ulrich (ex matematico) hanno un ruolo diverso, mettono in luce gli aspetti pi霉 irrequieti degli altri. Taluni sconfinano nel deliquio, come Clarisse e Moosbrugger.
Ulrich perturba i salotti con cui viene a contatto. Qui entro nella vita di Robert Musil, per forza di cose. Prendiamo Walter e Carisse, personaggi fondamentali. Due amici sposati di Ulrich. In realt脿 Walter si chiamava Gustav Donath ed era amico d鈥檌nfanzia di Robert Musil, Clarisse si chiamava Alice Charlemont. A 25 anni Musil annota pagine piuttosto forti su Alice, scrive che Alice veniva da una famiglia ebraica in cui 鈥渓a sensualit脿 era un fatto di famiglia鈥�, Musil scriveva istoriando le sue informazioni, alla maniera impressionistica dell鈥檈poca e con i 25 anni che aveva allora (stava scrivendo il Torless). Ma Alice Charlemont aveva effettivamente una sensualit脿 spiccata, 鈥渇u arrotolata dalla sensualit脿 come un foglio dal calore鈥�. Musil scrive che anche sua sorella l鈥檃veva e che in casa sua avevano deciso di legarle le dita per evitare che si masturbasse di notte. Anche la sorella di Alice finir脿 come personaggio ne l鈥橴SQ, si chiamer脿 Marion. Il padre di Alice ha sposato sua madre, scrive Musil, esclusivamente per le sue qualit脿 sessuali, di giorno sono ai ferri corti e di notte si amano con sfrenatezza. Questo Alice lo percepisce. Alice lo sa. In questo senso Musil, sembra riportare i sentimenti del Torless quando immagina tutto ci貌 che gli amanti fanno di notte in una camera da letto, ma il mondo non lo sa, lo sa per interposta immaginazione, lo sa soltanto dalle facce miti a colazione. Alice viene sedotta in adolescenza da un amico di famiglia, filosofo, che ne l鈥橴SQ si chiama Meingast. Alice ha un neo grande quanto un medaglione sul pube, 鈥渄ove la linea tra anca e ventre va a finire tra i peli鈥�, verr脿 chiamato l鈥檕cchio del diavolo nel libro. Nei diari Musil annota anche il giorno in cui Alice Charlemont ebbe i primi segni di esaurimento nervoso (1910) e fu portata a Venezia in un istituto e all鈥檌nterno di quell鈥檌stituto ella s鈥檌nvagh矛 di un greco, omosessuale, al quale Alice spediva lettere e cerc貌 di inseguire fino in Grecia.
Gustav, l鈥檃mico di Robert Musil, aveva sposato Alice nel 1907 e Musil ne sar脿 il testimone di nozze. Ne l鈥橴SQ, Clarisse sente un debole per Ulrich ma egli non fa altro che acutizzare le nevrosi che porteranno al ricovero Clarisse. Nell鈥檜ltimo capitolo della seconda parte, un capitolo che secondo me avrebbe potuto essere quello conclusivo dell鈥檕pera, il Cap 123, Clarisse non vuole un figlio da suo marito, col quale non va pi霉 d鈥檃ccordo ma si presenta in casa di Ulrich e cerca di sedurlo; vuole un figlio da lui, poich茅 lo ritiene spiritualmente l鈥檜nico capace di comprenderla. Ma Ulrich si rifiuta. Scrive che quel suo modo di fare era in qualche modo quasi convenzionale agli occhi di Ulrich, come se alcune sue frasi fossero una riga di un libro capitata per sbaglio in un altro libro. Come se fosse essa stessa fatta di diversi testi interpolati. Infatti Clarisse nel libro non esordisce con frasi ammiccanti ma si presenta da Ulrich per fargli le condoglianze per la morte di suo padre, tuttavia nel farlo usa un鈥檈spressione che Ulrich ritiene irritante e fuori luogo: 鈥淭i faccio le pi霉 sincere condoglianze, allora, ragazzo mio!鈥�.
Musil non 猫 buono neppure con se stesso quando scrive riferendosi a Ulrich: 鈥淚l mio carattere 猫 una specie di macchina fatta per disprezzare continuamente la vita鈥�. Oppure: 鈥淎gathe, come Ulrich, apparteneva alle gente di attivit脿 appassionata ma frammentaria鈥�.
Musil non 猫 buono con Clarisse e nei Diari con Alice, da scrittore grande, ma da uomo poco dignitoso o forse troppo pressato dai suoi pensieri e ansie, non si accorge che la donna che sta tratteggiando 猫 colei, Alice, sua amica, che subir脿 crisi nervose fino ad essere rinchiusa. Suo marito e suo amico la lascer脿. Musil stesso non 猫 ben chiaro se ha una relazione con Alice nel 1909, quando era ancora sposata con il suo amico. Nei diari Musil non 猫 sempre chiaro, sembra confondere un ipotetico lettore.
Egli stesso ebbe un鈥檌nfanzia travagliata, i suoi genitori lo frustarono per la prima volta quando aveva 5 anni e per lui fu un trauma. La cosa pi霉 sconcertante 猫 che quando era appena nato sua madre si fece un amante, un insegnante di meccanica alle scuole secondarie. I genitori di Musil avevano un rapporto strano, suo marito era innamorato di lei, ma lei sembrava indifferente, e l鈥檜omo che divenne il suo amante era sempre con loro in ogni occasione, tantoch茅 a Robert bambino quest'uomo intruso venne fatto conoscere come se fosse suo zio. Questo uomo accompagner脿 i suoi genitori per decenni ma loro resteranno insieme e moriranno lo stesso anno. Nel 1928. Musil sin da adolescente, andr脿 in collegio e poi vedr脿 sempre meno i suoi genitori. Sposer脿 una donna (Martha) pi霉 grande che gi脿 aveva due figli dal precedente matrimonio. Due figli che seguiranno Musil e sua moglie. La moglie di Musil ne L鈥橴SQ 猫 sua sorella, Agathe, con la quale Ulrich avr脿 un rapporto quasi incestuoso. Tutto ne L鈥橴SQ 猫 trasposizione perturbante della sua vita. Musil aveva avuto una sorella morta quando egli ancora non era nato ed 猫 anche a questa figura mai conosciuta che fa riferimento con il personaggio di Agathe.
Alice Charlemont, mor矛 nel 1939 assassinata dai nazisti che avevano iniziato a fare piazza pulita degli elementi (persone si sarebbe detto in un'epoca pi霉 umana) che loro ritenevano handicappati, quali ebrei, zingari, internati in centri d鈥檌giene mentale. Musil, credo (e spero) abbia sofferto per il destino di Alice, che 猫 diventata Clarisse, il suo personaggio immortale, ma in vita ha patito l鈥檌nferno. Anche Musil negli ultimi anni di vita pat矛 l鈥檌ndigenza, era diventato povero per investimenti sbagliati e un gruppo di scrittori lo finanziava primariamente perch茅 sapevano del suo genio e della sua intenzione di terminare l鈥橴SQ. Che non termin貌. Non lo facevano perch茅 fosse simpatico. Era un tipo piuttosto taciturno, altezzoso, scostante. Non accettava paragoni con nessuno scrittore del suo tempo, n茅 con Joyce, n茅 con Proust.
Mor矛 il 15 aprile del 1942. Nella dimenticanza generale. Ingeborg Bachmann scrive che al suo funerale nei pressi di Ginevra, c鈥檈rano solo otto persone.
"Chi pu貌 dire oggigiorno se il suo sdegno sia per davvero il suo sdegno."
Uno dei massimi libri della letteratura moderna. 鈥淚l difetto di questo libro 猫 di essere un libro. Di avere una copertina, un dorso, un鈥檌mpaginazione. Si dovrebbe stenderne un paio di pagine fra lastre di vetro e cambiarle ogni tanto. Allora si vedrebbe che cosa 猫..."
(Robert Musil nei diari a proposito de L鈥檜omo senza qualit脿)
Ho riletto alcune parti dell'Uomo senza qualit脿 (USQ) e letto per la prima volta le parti non concluse e pubblicate postume (dopo il 鈥�42), capitoli che egli non fece in tempo ad aggiungere. Come si capir脿 leggendolo egli non fece in tempo poich茅 le variazioni di vita che aveva sperimentato conducevano a un vicolo cieco. Per cui Musil si sente come Ulisse che supera le colonne d鈥橢rcole e finisce in mare aperto e sconfinato. L鈥橴lisse di Dante e non quello di Joyce. Un rivolo d鈥檃cqua si gonfia sempre pi霉 e diventa mare. Ma in questo mare si possono rintracciare storie interne, relazioni tra i personaggi, ed 猫 questo che conta davvero; relazioni rese in modo stupefacente che ancora oggi sono di una grandezza e modernit脿 sconcertanti quanto a stile, presa sul lettore, scintillare delle idee. Confrontando i Diari di Musil, la sua biografia e l鈥橴SQ si scoprono molte cose interessanti.
Come 猫 noto l鈥檜ltima parte de l鈥橴SQ riguarda Ulrich, il protagonista, che reincontra sua sorella Agathe che aveva visto ben poco in vita sua. Lei 猫 reduce dal secondo matrimonio, il primo marito, che amava, 猫 morto e con il secondo che non ama si sta lasciando. Lei ha 27 anni e Ulrich 33. Siamo nel 1913. Tutto il libro 猫 ambientato in quell鈥檃nno. L鈥橴SQ potrebbe finire qui, con il padre di Ulrich e Agathe che muore e loro due che si rivedono, ma Musil prosegue e si incanala in una sorta di viaggio tra Ulrich e sua sorella, fatto di comprensione per le loro vicissitudini, fatto di spirito e di corpo che non approda a nulla, bello solo da leggere per alcuni passaggi molto poetici (come Il famoso Viaggio in paradiso). Per cui l鈥橴SQ 猫 per molti aspetti concluso gi脿 all鈥檌nizio della terza parte. Circa 130 capitoli e 900 pagine.
Ecco, dopo questa introduzione un po鈥� doverosa e pedante entro nelle vene dell鈥檕pera.
Beh, di cosa tratta l鈥橴SQ? Non 猫 vero che 猫 impossibile spiegarlo, 猫 invece abbastanza facile. L鈥橴SQ 猫 un libro in cui i personaggi vogliono vivificarsi come facciamo tutti, ma per vivificarci, Musil lo chiama l鈥檃ltro stato, non possiamo che andare e tornare da questo stato, come succede quando gustiamo un film che ci commuove, che ci scuote particolarmente, come facciamo con l鈥檃more, con una vacanza, come facciamo con tutti i momenti vivificanti, non possiamo sostare ma andare e riandare. In questo andare e riandare Musil inserisce un po鈥� di tutto, la conversazione, che pu貌 essere eccitante quando si affrontano argomenti interessanti in uno spirito giusto. Quindi il ruolo del talento, dell鈥檃rte, della musica, della comunicazione, della stampa, della politica, delle emozioni, del sesso, delle nevrosi eccetera. Facebook, la rete in generale, sarebbe stato un ottimo argomento aggiuntivo per Musil. Ma tutto questo ipotizzare Musil lo rende vivo perch茅 i suoi personaggi sono stati vivi, con lui. Egli inizia ad annotare alcune bozze di comportamenti di amici, conoscenti e gente nota della sua epoca fin da quando aveva 25 anni. A pi霉 riprese li modifica. A 40 anni comincia a scrivere l鈥橴SQ, lo porta avanti per nove anni senza comporlo. Poi nel 1929, in un anno e mezzo scrive e compone in bella copia le prime 850 pagine. 123 capitoli. Escono a novembre del 1930 quando ha appena compiuto 50 anni.
Cos矛 scrive Bianca Cetti Marinoni nell鈥檌ntroduzione: 鈥�(l鈥檃ltro stato) attingibile da ciascuno in intense esperienze amorose cos矛 come nel pieno godimento dell鈥檃rte e della percezione profonda del sacro, non pu貌 essere uno stato durevole ma solo intermittente: esso consiste in una temporanea uscita dalla vita consueta, in cui si rientra portando con s茅 il proprio sentimento di quest鈥檃ltra dimensione. E dunque proprio qui, nella vita consueta, si gioca per Musil la difficile partita conclusiva: vi si pu貌 rientrare chiudendo quell鈥檈sperienza nella parentesi di una vacanza, tornando a quella coesistenza separata e contraddittoria di interiorit脿 e calcolo, passione e ideologia che gi脿 abbiamo visto scatenare l鈥檌ronia di Musil; oppure facendo s矛 che questa vita sia guidata dalle motivazioni dell鈥檃ltra, e perseguire questa meta per approssimazioni successive, per tentativi casuali ma dotati di senso, ossia organicamente correlati.鈥�
In altre parole, i personaggi di Musil (almeno alcuni) fanno in modo di conquistare la realt脿 senza perdere il sogno, portano con loro, sempre presenti, il desiderio, di quello che hanno bramato, ma un desiderio che sfugge a loro stessi. Alcuni sono professionisti e inseriti nel mondo degli affari, altri come Ulrich (ex matematico) hanno un ruolo diverso, mettono in luce gli aspetti pi霉 irrequieti degli altri. Taluni sconfinano nel deliquio, come Clarisse e Moosbrugger.
Ulrich perturba i salotti con cui viene a contatto. Qui entro nella vita di Robert Musil, per forza di cose. Prendiamo Walter e Carisse, personaggi fondamentali. Due amici sposati di Ulrich. In realt脿 Walter si chiamava Gustav Donath ed era amico d鈥檌nfanzia di Robert Musil, Clarisse si chiamava Alice Charlemont. A 25 anni Musil annota pagine piuttosto forti su Alice, scrive che Alice veniva da una famiglia ebraica in cui 鈥渓a sensualit脿 era un fatto di famiglia鈥�, Musil scriveva istoriando le sue informazioni, alla maniera impressionistica dell鈥檈poca e con i 25 anni che aveva allora (stava scrivendo il Torless). Ma Alice Charlemont aveva effettivamente una sensualit脿 spiccata, 鈥渇u arrotolata dalla sensualit脿 come un foglio dal calore鈥�. Musil scrive che anche sua sorella l鈥檃veva e che in casa sua avevano deciso di legarle le dita per evitare che si masturbasse di notte. Anche la sorella di Alice finir脿 come personaggio ne l鈥橴SQ, si chiamer脿 Marion. Il padre di Alice ha sposato sua madre, scrive Musil, esclusivamente per le sue qualit脿 sessuali, di giorno sono ai ferri corti e di notte si amano con sfrenatezza. Questo Alice lo percepisce. Alice lo sa. In questo senso Musil, sembra riportare i sentimenti del Torless quando immagina tutto ci貌 che gli amanti fanno di notte in una camera da letto, ma il mondo non lo sa, lo sa per interposta immaginazione, lo sa soltanto dalle facce miti a colazione. Alice viene sedotta in adolescenza da un amico di famiglia, filosofo, che ne l鈥橴SQ si chiama Meingast. Alice ha un neo grande quanto un medaglione sul pube, 鈥渄ove la linea tra anca e ventre va a finire tra i peli鈥�, verr脿 chiamato l鈥檕cchio del diavolo nel libro. Nei diari Musil annota anche il giorno in cui Alice Charlemont ebbe i primi segni di esaurimento nervoso (1910) e fu portata a Venezia in un istituto e all鈥檌nterno di quell鈥檌stituto ella s鈥檌nvagh矛 di un greco, omosessuale, al quale Alice spediva lettere e cerc貌 di inseguire fino in Grecia.
Gustav, l鈥檃mico di Robert Musil, aveva sposato Alice nel 1907 e Musil ne sar脿 il testimone di nozze. Ne l鈥橴SQ, Clarisse sente un debole per Ulrich ma egli non fa altro che acutizzare le nevrosi che porteranno al ricovero Clarisse. Nell鈥檜ltimo capitolo della seconda parte, un capitolo che secondo me avrebbe potuto essere quello conclusivo dell鈥檕pera, il Cap 123, Clarisse non vuole un figlio da suo marito, col quale non va pi霉 d鈥檃ccordo ma si presenta in casa di Ulrich e cerca di sedurlo; vuole un figlio da lui, poich茅 lo ritiene spiritualmente l鈥檜nico capace di comprenderla. Ma Ulrich si rifiuta. Scrive che quel suo modo di fare era in qualche modo quasi convenzionale agli occhi di Ulrich, come se alcune sue frasi fossero una riga di un libro capitata per sbaglio in un altro libro. Come se fosse essa stessa fatta di diversi testi interpolati. Infatti Clarisse nel libro non esordisce con frasi ammiccanti ma si presenta da Ulrich per fargli le condoglianze per la morte di suo padre, tuttavia nel farlo usa un鈥檈spressione che Ulrich ritiene irritante e fuori luogo: 鈥淭i faccio le pi霉 sincere condoglianze, allora, ragazzo mio!鈥�.
Musil non 猫 buono neppure con se stesso quando scrive riferendosi a Ulrich: 鈥淚l mio carattere 猫 una specie di macchina fatta per disprezzare continuamente la vita鈥�. Oppure: 鈥淎gathe, come Ulrich, apparteneva alle gente di attivit脿 appassionata ma frammentaria鈥�.
Musil non 猫 buono con Clarisse e nei Diari con Alice, da scrittore grande, ma da uomo poco dignitoso o forse troppo pressato dai suoi pensieri e ansie, non si accorge che la donna che sta tratteggiando 猫 colei, Alice, sua amica, che subir脿 crisi nervose fino ad essere rinchiusa. Suo marito e suo amico la lascer脿. Musil stesso non 猫 ben chiaro se ha una relazione con Alice nel 1909, quando era ancora sposata con il suo amico. Nei diari Musil non 猫 sempre chiaro, sembra confondere un ipotetico lettore.
Egli stesso ebbe un鈥檌nfanzia travagliata, i suoi genitori lo frustarono per la prima volta quando aveva 5 anni e per lui fu un trauma. La cosa pi霉 sconcertante 猫 che quando era appena nato sua madre si fece un amante, un insegnante di meccanica alle scuole secondarie. I genitori di Musil avevano un rapporto strano, suo marito era innamorato di lei, ma lei sembrava indifferente, e l鈥檜omo che divenne il suo amante era sempre con loro in ogni occasione, tantoch茅 a Robert bambino quest'uomo intruso venne fatto conoscere come se fosse suo zio. Questo uomo accompagner脿 i suoi genitori per decenni ma loro resteranno insieme e moriranno lo stesso anno. Nel 1928. Musil sin da adolescente, andr脿 in collegio e poi vedr脿 sempre meno i suoi genitori. Sposer脿 una donna (Martha) pi霉 grande che gi脿 aveva due figli dal precedente matrimonio. Due figli che seguiranno Musil e sua moglie. La moglie di Musil ne L鈥橴SQ 猫 sua sorella, Agathe, con la quale Ulrich avr脿 un rapporto quasi incestuoso. Tutto ne L鈥橴SQ 猫 trasposizione perturbante della sua vita. Musil aveva avuto una sorella morta quando egli ancora non era nato ed 猫 anche a questa figura mai conosciuta che fa riferimento con il personaggio di Agathe.
Alice Charlemont, mor矛 nel 1939 assassinata dai nazisti che avevano iniziato a fare piazza pulita degli elementi (persone si sarebbe detto in un'epoca pi霉 umana) che loro ritenevano handicappati, quali ebrei, zingari, internati in centri d鈥檌giene mentale. Musil, credo (e spero) abbia sofferto per il destino di Alice, che 猫 diventata Clarisse, il suo personaggio immortale, ma in vita ha patito l鈥檌nferno. Anche Musil negli ultimi anni di vita pat矛 l鈥檌ndigenza, era diventato povero per investimenti sbagliati e un gruppo di scrittori lo finanziava primariamente perch茅 sapevano del suo genio e della sua intenzione di terminare l鈥橴SQ. Che non termin貌. Non lo facevano perch茅 fosse simpatico. Era un tipo piuttosto taciturno, altezzoso, scostante. Non accettava paragoni con nessuno scrittore del suo tempo, n茅 con Joyce, n茅 con Proust.
Mor矛 il 15 aprile del 1942. Nella dimenticanza generale. Ingeborg Bachmann scrive che al suo funerale nei pressi di Ginevra, c鈥檈rano solo otto persone.
June 1, 2022
(4.5 stars.) An infinite treadmill of gently comedic and witty insight, shifting from aphorism to aphorism like a hummingbird flitting from flower to flower, 161 brief sections totaling 1,130 pages, almost arbitrary in their order; fully two-thirds of the sections could be shuffled to different locations and it would have zero effect on the novel as a whole. While MWQ is not, technically, plotless . . . it's pretty close, especially in Book 2.
[N.B. -- my references are as follows, from :
Book 1 = "A Sort of Introduction," pages 1-82
Book 2 = "Pseudoreality Prevails," pages 83-728
Book 3 = "Into the Millennium," pages 729-1130 (published as a separate novel, Agathe, by NYRB)
Book 4 = mostly-irrelevant desk-drawer cleaning exercises, random notes, published as pages 1131 to 1808]
The thematic structure of MWQ is very straightforward, almost too straightforward -- the dialectical relationship of self and society in the context of the very peculiar fin de si猫cle environment we have in Europe before WW1, the shuffling of deck chairs on the Titanic, where with MWQ there's this clearly ominous doom of 1914 about to occur, which will plunge all of the antics of the Parallel Campaign into disarray, and this foreshadowing begins as early as page 7: "Time was on the move. People not yet born in those days will find it hard to believe, but even then time was racing along like a cavalry camel, just like today. But nobody knew where time was headed."
The characters are, alas, one-dimensional caricatures; MWQ is clever and well-written, but it's a philosophical 'novel,' not a novel. Certainly the most salient character is Moosbrugger, a "sex murderer" -- I am, unfortunately, quoting Musil, who uses this phrase a thousand times -- who is presented as the inverted version of the protagonist, the titular MWQ (page 711: "Ulrich had apparently been living so long without some central purpose that he was actually envying a psychopath his obsessions and his faith in the part he was applying"). Moosbrugger and Ulrich are dialectical antipodes -- Moosbrugger as pure obsession and 'authenticity', Ulrich as purposeless inauthenticity (following the rules of pre-WW1 society too perfectly and therefore incarnating their shallowness) -- both are placed outside a society that could not comprehend or encompass the darker forces that later overcame the continent (page 77: "it occurred to Ulrich that if mankind could dream as a whole, that dream would be Moosbrugger"). Ulrich's flirtation with incest in Book 3 is an attempt to escape the strictures of culture, striving to somehow transcend quality-less-ness (as Moosbrugger did, in his own way).
* * *
I have a habit of trying to understand a novel by relating it to other authors and novels, for better or worse; with MWQ, a few vague connections came to mind . . . Book 2 = Don Quixote's mildly ironic episodes, a wittier version of Zweig's World of Yesterday, Kafka's Trial but funnier?; Book 3 = Bernhard's Extinction, but vaguely incestuous?, yet apart from Nietzsche, the clearest comparison by far was Proust, just so many similarities.
I have yet to dig into the biographies and critical material (re: Musil) but I would be amazed if he had not read Proust before starting MWQ; Temps perdu is similarly overly philosophical, contains world-class aphorisms, has a protagonist who is clearly the author, emphasizes a simple theme at the expense of all other themes (self/memory in Proust; self/society in Musil), gently mocks pre-WW1 high society, introduces a female 'twin' for the protagonist who is associated with an unhealthy sexual relationship (Albertine / Agathe), creates a sense of drowning in endless run-on sentences / dialogue / aphorisms, etc. etc.
But the main similarity is quite unintentional on Musil's part; Temps perdu and MWQ are both posthumously published, poorly edited, and roughly 25% too long. My ambivalence about both novels is precisely the same; most scholars (let alone casual readers) agree that a 'condensed Proust' would be a serious improvement -- and similarly, if we had an 800-page version of MWQ that was tightly edited, this would be unquestionably one of the very best novels of the twentieth century. But just as I can't ignore the addition of Albertine to Proust, I can't ignore the imperfections in the version of MWQ that we have.
* * *
It took me three years to finish MWQ because I kept getting stuck in pages 350-700, writing things like "this is truly tedious" in the margins before taking yet another break; it literally took finishing every other book in my to-read list for literature (which I started back in 1998) for me to finally return to Musil to finish in March 2022. I hasten to emphasize that the novel is very good overall, but it was quite a slog there for the middle third, imo.
Book 2 likely would have been more appealing to me if I didn't have an academic philosophy background; Musil offers a witty and elegant take on Nietzsche (along with Hegel, at times), but let me just say that if you're a huge fan of the aphorisms in MWQ, I have good news for you -- you can go straight to the source! Nietzsche is literally the greatest prose stylist in the German language and like top 3 in terms of philosophers, and this is one of the only cases where Musil could come off badly in comparison: Book 2 kept making me wonder why I was even bothering, when I could read actual philosophy instead. I'm also apparently in the minority insofar as I loved Book 3, so who knows; de gustibus, etc.
Easily the most startling thing about MWQ is how current/contemporary it feels. Ulrich could be in Gen X or Gen Z -- the characters discuss gender as a performance, one of the female characters is in love with a celebrity serial killer (our friend Moosbrugger), etc. -- and the prose feels similarly fresh/modern, actually quite similar to Ulysses in that sense, where the quality is so high that somehow it transcends its time (versus, say, Mann's prose, which feels very 1900-ish).
In short, I recommend it, but just watch out for Book 2 lol.
* * *
"He now felt the memory of the feeling of being young, that hovering on rays of light, as an aching loss." (p. 55)
"There is always something ghostly about living constantly in a well-ordered state. You cannot step into the street or drink a glass of water or get on a streetcar without touching the balanced levers of a gigantic apparatus of laws and interrelations, setting them in motion or letting them maintain you . . ." (p. 165)
"Our higher faculties are so ambiguous in nature that they can lead us equally well to cannibalism as to the Critique of Pure Reason." (p. 449)
"All the wishes and vanities that had normally filled their lives now lay far beneath them, like toy houses and farmyards deep in the valley, with all the clucking, barking, and other excitements swallowed up in the stillness, leaving only the sense of silent deep space." (p. 550)
"None of our ideals is quite right, none of them makes us happy; they all point to something that's not there -- we've said enough about that today. Our civilization is a temple of what would be called unsecured mania, but it is also its asylum, and we don't know if we are suffering from an excess or a deficiency." (p. 834)
"The darkness outside the window seemed to her like a summer night. Where the light of the gas lamps fell, the night was lacquered a bright yellow. The bushes nearby were a surging mass of black. Where they hung into the light they became green or whitish -- there was no right word for it -- scalloped into leaves and floating in the lamplight like laundry spread out in a gently running stream. A narrow iron ribbon on dwarflike posts -- a mere reminder and admonition to think of order -- ran for a while along the edge of the lawn where the bushes stood, and then vanished into the darkness." (p. 853)
[N.B. -- my references are as follows, from :
Book 1 = "A Sort of Introduction," pages 1-82
Book 2 = "Pseudoreality Prevails," pages 83-728
Book 3 = "Into the Millennium," pages 729-1130 (published as a separate novel, Agathe, by NYRB)
Book 4 = mostly-irrelevant desk-drawer cleaning exercises, random notes, published as pages 1131 to 1808]
The thematic structure of MWQ is very straightforward, almost too straightforward -- the dialectical relationship of self and society in the context of the very peculiar fin de si猫cle environment we have in Europe before WW1, the shuffling of deck chairs on the Titanic, where with MWQ there's this clearly ominous doom of 1914 about to occur, which will plunge all of the antics of the Parallel Campaign into disarray, and this foreshadowing begins as early as page 7: "Time was on the move. People not yet born in those days will find it hard to believe, but even then time was racing along like a cavalry camel, just like today. But nobody knew where time was headed."
The characters are, alas, one-dimensional caricatures; MWQ is clever and well-written, but it's a philosophical 'novel,' not a novel. Certainly the most salient character is Moosbrugger, a "sex murderer" -- I am, unfortunately, quoting Musil, who uses this phrase a thousand times -- who is presented as the inverted version of the protagonist, the titular MWQ (page 711: "Ulrich had apparently been living so long without some central purpose that he was actually envying a psychopath his obsessions and his faith in the part he was applying"). Moosbrugger and Ulrich are dialectical antipodes -- Moosbrugger as pure obsession and 'authenticity', Ulrich as purposeless inauthenticity (following the rules of pre-WW1 society too perfectly and therefore incarnating their shallowness) -- both are placed outside a society that could not comprehend or encompass the darker forces that later overcame the continent (page 77: "it occurred to Ulrich that if mankind could dream as a whole, that dream would be Moosbrugger"). Ulrich's flirtation with incest in Book 3 is an attempt to escape the strictures of culture, striving to somehow transcend quality-less-ness (as Moosbrugger did, in his own way).
* * *
I have a habit of trying to understand a novel by relating it to other authors and novels, for better or worse; with MWQ, a few vague connections came to mind . . . Book 2 = Don Quixote's mildly ironic episodes, a wittier version of Zweig's World of Yesterday, Kafka's Trial but funnier?; Book 3 = Bernhard's Extinction, but vaguely incestuous?, yet apart from Nietzsche, the clearest comparison by far was Proust, just so many similarities.
I have yet to dig into the biographies and critical material (re: Musil) but I would be amazed if he had not read Proust before starting MWQ; Temps perdu is similarly overly philosophical, contains world-class aphorisms, has a protagonist who is clearly the author, emphasizes a simple theme at the expense of all other themes (self/memory in Proust; self/society in Musil), gently mocks pre-WW1 high society, introduces a female 'twin' for the protagonist who is associated with an unhealthy sexual relationship (Albertine / Agathe), creates a sense of drowning in endless run-on sentences / dialogue / aphorisms, etc. etc.
But the main similarity is quite unintentional on Musil's part; Temps perdu and MWQ are both posthumously published, poorly edited, and roughly 25% too long. My ambivalence about both novels is precisely the same; most scholars (let alone casual readers) agree that a 'condensed Proust' would be a serious improvement -- and similarly, if we had an 800-page version of MWQ that was tightly edited, this would be unquestionably one of the very best novels of the twentieth century. But just as I can't ignore the addition of Albertine to Proust, I can't ignore the imperfections in the version of MWQ that we have.
* * *
It took me three years to finish MWQ because I kept getting stuck in pages 350-700, writing things like "this is truly tedious" in the margins before taking yet another break; it literally took finishing every other book in my to-read list for literature (which I started back in 1998) for me to finally return to Musil to finish in March 2022. I hasten to emphasize that the novel is very good overall, but it was quite a slog there for the middle third, imo.
Book 2 likely would have been more appealing to me if I didn't have an academic philosophy background; Musil offers a witty and elegant take on Nietzsche (along with Hegel, at times), but let me just say that if you're a huge fan of the aphorisms in MWQ, I have good news for you -- you can go straight to the source! Nietzsche is literally the greatest prose stylist in the German language and like top 3 in terms of philosophers, and this is one of the only cases where Musil could come off badly in comparison: Book 2 kept making me wonder why I was even bothering, when I could read actual philosophy instead. I'm also apparently in the minority insofar as I loved Book 3, so who knows; de gustibus, etc.
Easily the most startling thing about MWQ is how current/contemporary it feels. Ulrich could be in Gen X or Gen Z -- the characters discuss gender as a performance, one of the female characters is in love with a celebrity serial killer (our friend Moosbrugger), etc. -- and the prose feels similarly fresh/modern, actually quite similar to Ulysses in that sense, where the quality is so high that somehow it transcends its time (versus, say, Mann's prose, which feels very 1900-ish).
In short, I recommend it, but just watch out for Book 2 lol.
* * *
"He now felt the memory of the feeling of being young, that hovering on rays of light, as an aching loss." (p. 55)
"There is always something ghostly about living constantly in a well-ordered state. You cannot step into the street or drink a glass of water or get on a streetcar without touching the balanced levers of a gigantic apparatus of laws and interrelations, setting them in motion or letting them maintain you . . ." (p. 165)
"Our higher faculties are so ambiguous in nature that they can lead us equally well to cannibalism as to the Critique of Pure Reason." (p. 449)
"All the wishes and vanities that had normally filled their lives now lay far beneath them, like toy houses and farmyards deep in the valley, with all the clucking, barking, and other excitements swallowed up in the stillness, leaving only the sense of silent deep space." (p. 550)
"None of our ideals is quite right, none of them makes us happy; they all point to something that's not there -- we've said enough about that today. Our civilization is a temple of what would be called unsecured mania, but it is also its asylum, and we don't know if we are suffering from an excess or a deficiency." (p. 834)
"The darkness outside the window seemed to her like a summer night. Where the light of the gas lamps fell, the night was lacquered a bright yellow. The bushes nearby were a surging mass of black. Where they hung into the light they became green or whitish -- there was no right word for it -- scalloped into leaves and floating in the lamplight like laundry spread out in a gently running stream. A narrow iron ribbon on dwarflike posts -- a mere reminder and admonition to think of order -- ran for a while along the edge of the lawn where the bushes stood, and then vanished into the darkness." (p. 853)
Read
November 28, 2020To read this book from cover-to-cover is a sure sign of a deeply neurotic person and it is often times a unique exercise in punishment, so there is little doubt that we are in good company here as you must remember someone still had to write the entire thing (whether I'm referring to the novel or the review I leave to the reader's interpretation).
Everything about this book is enough to make one enormously dizzy. Is that how the world must have seemed in the 1910's, 20's, and 30's to those who were born in the last three decades of the 19th century, and is that perhaps why that generation in particular were able to write such good books? As Musil has done with this one, one often cannot present complete and total answers, but instead only offer partial solutions.
In proper Viennese fashion, I considered leaving the entire review with "whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent", if it had not become a cliche in itself.
I can say this book is like nothing I've read before, including history, philosophy, and Ulysses of course (it is also extraordinarily curious to consider how Musil and Joyce were born 2 years apart, and died only 1 year apart鈥攚hat they would have thought of one another is anyone's guess and probably would have gone just as well as Joyce's "famous" meeting with Proust). Musil at least can be considered admirable in his completely uncompromising nature not to "dumb things down", or to reduce things to their most simple and easy-to-understand form in his own thought. He even prophetically suggests as much that such an effort is the prelude to war, not to mention the lack of rigor in philosophy and psychology that he detested. Perhaps his training as a scientist and engineer shines through here, but that philosophy, mind, emotion, politics, etc. themselves are more or less a muddle to an even slightly inquiring mind (especially one who was a former citizen to that infamous body known as the Austro-Hungarian Empire) is something he exposes thoroughly in his novel, as it is very much not a book that presents answers or banal "insightful" discussions into anything in particular really, but questions and digressions, all held together by the most precarious tightrope of a narrative string ever concocted. He even acknowledges himself that (almost) precisely nothing happens in the second book, the one he never managed to finish.
Oh, but one must read the entire thing despite all that, as its positive qualities (ironically) are numerous, as is the innately parasocial phenomena of enjoying the presence of someone more intelligent than you and pretending to follow along, for it would take a special person indeed to admit they understood every little discussion in the story. The best thing I can probably say about it is that despite its unfinished nature, I still feel very strongly that there is one very good place to end on, "The End of the Entry" published in the Posthumous Papers, even if it may not strictly be the end chronologically (in fact the entire chronology explodes and scatters apart in the unpublished sections like it never existed in the first place). There is also an extremely interesting section where Musil considers a potential epilogue after a possible "A Kind of Conclusion" (attempting to mirror "A Sort of Introduction" that starts the novel, both of which express the essence of the book in two succinct phrases) where the main character Ulrich writes a final section containing the character's own aphorisms during WW2 which he presumably would have lived to see like Musil, which is all immensely fascinating to say the least if only just as a thought experiment of an ending.
To say that the novel has no overarching or dominating themes, as I have seen written elsewhere in blurbs about the book, is demonstrably false, but because one can read hundreds of pages between a similar discussion and that hardly any philosophical knots are untied by the end, the reader is really left in a state of extreme unease as one has likely never encountered anything like it before. Other avant-garde and experimental writers, though they might be more radical otherwise, are never so focused on ideas as Musil, which is why an "unfinished" or vague impression is left on the reader who doubtless feels themselves left at sea without a single philosophical anchor or sighting of land they can fall back on, but one can infer Musil's intentions behind this easily enough. And the whole narrative, at the risk of making it sound like a Bildungsroman though the protagonist is in his thirties, is actually quite a moving story of self-discovery of a person deeply unsure of his position in society and history, and yes even a love at the end of the day, with every ecstatic declaration elevated to tragedy. And how the centerless, diffuse, essayistic, and Expressionist aspect of the novel tie thematically into it being set primarily in Vienna in the years 1913/14 is too obvious of a connection for me to mention here, and likewise Musil hardly ever dwells on that explicitly, but on threads of thought that would never be obvious to the average reader, which can make each one either fascinating or an exquisite form of torture to read unless somehow treated as an elaborate joke.
Indeed there are a few sections of the book that are actually amazingly unenjoyable and border on the superfluous. One can always make the excuse though that they are merely unpolished, because for the vast majority of the novel everything actually manages to hang together, with the worst parts in my opinion making up the drafts for the continuation of the novel at the start of the Posthumous Papers. Don't be fooled though, some of my favorite material was also in the later parts of that section, including amazingly enough a really riotous draft of an attempted prison break where I thought I slipped into Berlin Alexanderplatz territory for a moment.
The publishing of a translation of the previously untranslated and unpublished material was a major justification for this two-volume edition of the book, and it's a shame that such an undertaking will always be imperfect at best. Some parts I felt where the translators were going for some metaphorical or poetic interpretation of a phrase (and in hindsight, how could they not with the way Musil writes), resulted in something that, I cannot emphasize this enough, literally makes no sense. The translator at least emphasized in the afterword that "[Musil] often writes on a level of semi-abstraction that is meaningful and focused in German but that only produces indigestion in English, the most ruthlessly concrete of languages". That incidentally reminds me of an anecdote about Lord Byron in communication with the Greeks during their War of Independence in the 1820's, when they remarked to him how there were 10 or so different ways of saying no in Greek without actually committing to anything, while in English one had to be annoyingly precise.
And since we are quoting now, and because I have characteristically failed to say what the novel actually is, I'll end this review with a section Musil wrote himself about what the novel is not, a suitably oblique way of expressing things which he clearly preferred:
It is not the Great Austrian Novel people have been awaiting for ages, although...
It is not a depiction of the time, in which Herr... recognizes his spitting image.
It is just as little a depiction of society.
It does not contain the problems we're suffering from, but...
It is not the work of a writer, insofar as... has the task (to repeat, what...) but as far as... constructive variation.
It is not a satire, but a positive construal.
It is not a confession, but a satire.
It is not the book of a psychologist.
It is not the book of a thinker (since it places the ideational elements in an order that鈥�)
It is not the book of a singer who...
It is not the book of a successful unsuccessful author.
It is not an easy and not a difficult book, for that depends entirely on the reader.
Everything about this book is enough to make one enormously dizzy. Is that how the world must have seemed in the 1910's, 20's, and 30's to those who were born in the last three decades of the 19th century, and is that perhaps why that generation in particular were able to write such good books? As Musil has done with this one, one often cannot present complete and total answers, but instead only offer partial solutions.
In proper Viennese fashion, I considered leaving the entire review with "whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent", if it had not become a cliche in itself.
I can say this book is like nothing I've read before, including history, philosophy, and Ulysses of course (it is also extraordinarily curious to consider how Musil and Joyce were born 2 years apart, and died only 1 year apart鈥攚hat they would have thought of one another is anyone's guess and probably would have gone just as well as Joyce's "famous" meeting with Proust). Musil at least can be considered admirable in his completely uncompromising nature not to "dumb things down", or to reduce things to their most simple and easy-to-understand form in his own thought. He even prophetically suggests as much that such an effort is the prelude to war, not to mention the lack of rigor in philosophy and psychology that he detested. Perhaps his training as a scientist and engineer shines through here, but that philosophy, mind, emotion, politics, etc. themselves are more or less a muddle to an even slightly inquiring mind (especially one who was a former citizen to that infamous body known as the Austro-Hungarian Empire) is something he exposes thoroughly in his novel, as it is very much not a book that presents answers or banal "insightful" discussions into anything in particular really, but questions and digressions, all held together by the most precarious tightrope of a narrative string ever concocted. He even acknowledges himself that (almost) precisely nothing happens in the second book, the one he never managed to finish.
Oh, but one must read the entire thing despite all that, as its positive qualities (ironically) are numerous, as is the innately parasocial phenomena of enjoying the presence of someone more intelligent than you and pretending to follow along, for it would take a special person indeed to admit they understood every little discussion in the story. The best thing I can probably say about it is that despite its unfinished nature, I still feel very strongly that there is one very good place to end on, "The End of the Entry" published in the Posthumous Papers, even if it may not strictly be the end chronologically (in fact the entire chronology explodes and scatters apart in the unpublished sections like it never existed in the first place). There is also an extremely interesting section where Musil considers a potential epilogue after a possible "A Kind of Conclusion" (attempting to mirror "A Sort of Introduction" that starts the novel, both of which express the essence of the book in two succinct phrases) where the main character Ulrich writes a final section containing the character's own aphorisms during WW2 which he presumably would have lived to see like Musil, which is all immensely fascinating to say the least if only just as a thought experiment of an ending.
To say that the novel has no overarching or dominating themes, as I have seen written elsewhere in blurbs about the book, is demonstrably false, but because one can read hundreds of pages between a similar discussion and that hardly any philosophical knots are untied by the end, the reader is really left in a state of extreme unease as one has likely never encountered anything like it before. Other avant-garde and experimental writers, though they might be more radical otherwise, are never so focused on ideas as Musil, which is why an "unfinished" or vague impression is left on the reader who doubtless feels themselves left at sea without a single philosophical anchor or sighting of land they can fall back on, but one can infer Musil's intentions behind this easily enough. And the whole narrative, at the risk of making it sound like a Bildungsroman though the protagonist is in his thirties, is actually quite a moving story of self-discovery of a person deeply unsure of his position in society and history, and yes even a love at the end of the day, with every ecstatic declaration elevated to tragedy. And how the centerless, diffuse, essayistic, and Expressionist aspect of the novel tie thematically into it being set primarily in Vienna in the years 1913/14 is too obvious of a connection for me to mention here, and likewise Musil hardly ever dwells on that explicitly, but on threads of thought that would never be obvious to the average reader, which can make each one either fascinating or an exquisite form of torture to read unless somehow treated as an elaborate joke.
Indeed there are a few sections of the book that are actually amazingly unenjoyable and border on the superfluous. One can always make the excuse though that they are merely unpolished, because for the vast majority of the novel everything actually manages to hang together, with the worst parts in my opinion making up the drafts for the continuation of the novel at the start of the Posthumous Papers. Don't be fooled though, some of my favorite material was also in the later parts of that section, including amazingly enough a really riotous draft of an attempted prison break where I thought I slipped into Berlin Alexanderplatz territory for a moment.
The publishing of a translation of the previously untranslated and unpublished material was a major justification for this two-volume edition of the book, and it's a shame that such an undertaking will always be imperfect at best. Some parts I felt where the translators were going for some metaphorical or poetic interpretation of a phrase (and in hindsight, how could they not with the way Musil writes), resulted in something that, I cannot emphasize this enough, literally makes no sense. The translator at least emphasized in the afterword that "[Musil] often writes on a level of semi-abstraction that is meaningful and focused in German but that only produces indigestion in English, the most ruthlessly concrete of languages". That incidentally reminds me of an anecdote about Lord Byron in communication with the Greeks during their War of Independence in the 1820's, when they remarked to him how there were 10 or so different ways of saying no in Greek without actually committing to anything, while in English one had to be annoyingly precise.
And since we are quoting now, and because I have characteristically failed to say what the novel actually is, I'll end this review with a section Musil wrote himself about what the novel is not, a suitably oblique way of expressing things which he clearly preferred:
It is not the Great Austrian Novel people have been awaiting for ages, although...
It is not a depiction of the time, in which Herr... recognizes his spitting image.
It is just as little a depiction of society.
It does not contain the problems we're suffering from, but...
It is not the work of a writer, insofar as... has the task (to repeat, what...) but as far as... constructive variation.
It is not a satire, but a positive construal.
It is not a confession, but a satire.
It is not the book of a psychologist.
It is not the book of a thinker (since it places the ideational elements in an order that鈥�)
It is not the book of a singer who...
It is not the book of a successful unsuccessful author.
It is not an easy and not a difficult book, for that depends entirely on the reader.
May 31, 2025
Hardly anyone still reads nowadays. People make use of the writer only in order to work off their own excess energy on him in a perverse manner, in the form of agreement or disagreement.
it was perhaps fitting that I finished this at the strike of the Eleventh hour as Janus faced the novel looks towards the Guns of August (and the implicit Armistice) as well as back to not only the exile of Musil but a yokel in Indiana who sighs as he sets the book down with a satisfied bewilderment. I often thought of the academic in who read Musil each night before bed. I am not sure in this brilliant sunshine whether this novel is a towering achievement of Essayism or simply a lurid bracketing of a sex murderer and a treatise on incest. I supposed it is both gauzed in mysticism and sociology. The author appeared often hapless and humble amidst urgent cries to bring this endeavor to an end.
This is novel is often a collection of essays on the industrial soul in a time of transition, Emerson and Nietzsche beckon amidst the death throes of the Hapsburg Empire and the droning of global Fordism. Its ambition is simply to encompass everything. The stage is dominated by Ulrich, a Musil stand in, who with aristocratic athleticism explores the arts and sciences to only find solace in playing house. It is the concept of the dwelling which illuminates so many set pieces whether that be salon of Diotima and the ill fated Parallel Campaign or the safe house for Moosebrugger and Rachel. These are the rites and this is how we live now.
I had noted earlier how I found it odd that Freud isn't mentioned until page 219 and how perfection is sought in ennui, I thought of more than the later Tolstoy. These new myths both secure and anchor but perhaps in terms of binding. Throughout it is Vienna which defies realism and at times even narrative, explication and query predominate in a sidestep of tradition. The second volume is largely drafts of potential direction as this unfinished albatross became a divining rod for dark times in Mitteleuropa.
More to come .. .
it was perhaps fitting that I finished this at the strike of the Eleventh hour as Janus faced the novel looks towards the Guns of August (and the implicit Armistice) as well as back to not only the exile of Musil but a yokel in Indiana who sighs as he sets the book down with a satisfied bewilderment. I often thought of the academic in who read Musil each night before bed. I am not sure in this brilliant sunshine whether this novel is a towering achievement of Essayism or simply a lurid bracketing of a sex murderer and a treatise on incest. I supposed it is both gauzed in mysticism and sociology. The author appeared often hapless and humble amidst urgent cries to bring this endeavor to an end.
This is novel is often a collection of essays on the industrial soul in a time of transition, Emerson and Nietzsche beckon amidst the death throes of the Hapsburg Empire and the droning of global Fordism. Its ambition is simply to encompass everything. The stage is dominated by Ulrich, a Musil stand in, who with aristocratic athleticism explores the arts and sciences to only find solace in playing house. It is the concept of the dwelling which illuminates so many set pieces whether that be salon of Diotima and the ill fated Parallel Campaign or the safe house for Moosebrugger and Rachel. These are the rites and this is how we live now.
I had noted earlier how I found it odd that Freud isn't mentioned until page 219 and how perfection is sought in ennui, I thought of more than the later Tolstoy. These new myths both secure and anchor but perhaps in terms of binding. Throughout it is Vienna which defies realism and at times even narrative, explication and query predominate in a sidestep of tradition. The second volume is largely drafts of potential direction as this unfinished albatross became a divining rod for dark times in Mitteleuropa.
More to come .. .
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