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صداهای مراکش
Elias Canetti uncovers the secret life hidden beneath Marrakesh's bewildering array of voices, gestures and faces. In a series of sharply etched scenes, he portrays the languages and cultures of the people who fill its bazaars, cafes, and streets. The book presents vivid images of daily life: the storytellers in the Djema el Fna, the armies of beggars ready to set upon the unwary, and the rituals of Moroccan family life.
134 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1968
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3,159 people want to read
About the author
Elias Canetti
112books639followersAwarded the 1981 Nobel Prize in Literature "for writings marked by a broad outlook, a wealth of ideas and artistic power."
He studied in Vienna. Before World War II he moved with his wife Veza to England and stayed there for long time. Since late 1960s he lived in London and Zurich. In late 1980s he started to live in Zurich permanently. He died in 1994 in Zurich.
Author of ܳٴ-岹-é, Party in the Blitz, Crowds and Power, and The Voices of Marrakesh: A Record of a Visit
He studied in Vienna. Before World War II he moved with his wife Veza to England and stayed there for long time. Since late 1960s he lived in London and Zurich. In late 1980s he started to live in Zurich permanently. He died in 1994 in Zurich.
Author of ܳٴ-岹-é, Party in the Blitz, Crowds and Power, and The Voices of Marrakesh: A Record of a Visit
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August 5, 2023
حينما يسافر المرء فإنه يقبل كل شيء، يدع الحنق وراءه في وطنه، ينظر، يصغي، تدفعه الى الحماسة أكثر الأمور فظاعة، بسبب حدتها، ذلك ان الرحالة الجيد رجل بلا قلب
- الكتاب بين القصص القصيرة وأدب الرحلات، لا أعرف مراكش لأقيّم اذا كان ما قيل صحيحاً لكن من الملفت ان بين متسوّل ومتسوّل هناك متسوّل في هذا الكتاب! متسولون في الجانب العربي في السوق، وفي الجانب اليهودي في المقابر، ومتسولون أطفال وأصحاب كرامات!..
- القصة الوحيدة التي اعجبتني كانت عن "الأسواق"، طريقة الوصف كانت جيدة للسوق والتجار وطريقة البيع والشراء...اما الباقي فقد كان عادياً
April 27, 2024
This book is not only cost-effective but also practical for exploring Marrakech. It delves into the timeless aspects of the other city, such as its spirit and high places, while leaving practical details like restaurants and commercial curiosities to other resources.
While it may seem surprising, this travel story of just over a hundred pages, written in the 1950s amidst the Cold War and Morocco's Protectorate era, remains remarkably relevant today. Its enduring relevance is a testament to its timeless insights.
Canetti's unique perspective on the city's spirit with the camels (how not to revolt), the souks (all this still seems relevant despite the invasion of mopeds), and poverty are captivating aspects of the book. Specific passages will give way to myth and the supernatural. If these passages are the best, those dedicated to Elie Dahan are much less so. The author's talent allows us to experience and understand his exasperation.
This short story offers an account of a certain number of meetings or visits made on-site and personal reflections. These are not always in favor of our compatriots or local populations, although the author does not directly attack an individual or a State.
The style is fluid, pleasant, and pleasant. As it is a translation, we can only praise and appreciate the quality of the translation work, which is particularly careful here. The pocket format edition needs a few tools, even if only a plan to better plan on-site.
This short, well-written story captures the essentials and is an ideal holiday accompaniment. It is an entirely essential read for those who wish to go there.
While it may seem surprising, this travel story of just over a hundred pages, written in the 1950s amidst the Cold War and Morocco's Protectorate era, remains remarkably relevant today. Its enduring relevance is a testament to its timeless insights.
Canetti's unique perspective on the city's spirit with the camels (how not to revolt), the souks (all this still seems relevant despite the invasion of mopeds), and poverty are captivating aspects of the book. Specific passages will give way to myth and the supernatural. If these passages are the best, those dedicated to Elie Dahan are much less so. The author's talent allows us to experience and understand his exasperation.
This short story offers an account of a certain number of meetings or visits made on-site and personal reflections. These are not always in favor of our compatriots or local populations, although the author does not directly attack an individual or a State.
The style is fluid, pleasant, and pleasant. As it is a translation, we can only praise and appreciate the quality of the translation work, which is particularly careful here. The pocket format edition needs a few tools, even if only a plan to better plan on-site.
This short, well-written story captures the essentials and is an ideal holiday accompaniment. It is an entirely essential read for those who wish to go there.
Read
May 6, 2014[This book has been translated into English as The Voices of Marrakesh.]
In Die Stimmen von Marrakesch (1967) Elias Canetti (1905-1994) takes us into the bazaars and alleyways of Marrakesh with his typically quiet and intensely observant manner. Visiting Marrakesh for the first time, he has deliberately made no preparations to learn about the city and its inhabitants. He wants to experience it all with as much innocence as is possible for an elderly man of the world.
That isn't the way I travel, but to enter a city like Marrakesh with no preparation is to experience it as a mystery of the unexpected and the unusual. And so he does. Canetti's carefully chiseled and deceptively simple prose pulls the reader into this experience compellingly. So we wander through the ancient walled city sharing his wonder and his occasional discombobulation and anxiety.
For me, the most striking of the 13 sections of this text described his visit to the Mellah, the walled-in Jewish quarter.(*) From the bazaar at the entrance, so much like those of the North Africans and yet so different, he penetrates into the quarter and finds a packed courtyard full of little boys memorizing the Hebrew alphabet at the top of their lungs; their proud and poor teacher has his best students read for his foreign guest. He locates a square near the center of the quarter where he feels so much at home, feels such a sense of warmth and life that it is extremely difficult for him to leave. Each time he recommences his explorations he is drawn back to the square of bliss. After noticing the absence of beggars in the Jewish quarter (they are everywhere in the Arab portion of the city), he stumbles upon a desolate Jewish graveyard and discovers the entire flock of Jewish beggars gathered and prepared to descend upon him. But you must read it in his words.
Perhaps another reader would prefer the holy beggar who thoroughly sucked on each coin he was given, which riveted Canetti in place for so long that the surrounding shopkeepers, for whom the sight was normal, began to consider Canetti to be just as strange as he thought the beggar was. Or perhaps, instead, the woman who stood without facial veil at her second floor window murmuring phrases of love and affection into the street, directed at no one. Canetti was so disconcerted and intrigued that he began to attract the less than benign attention of the neighborhood. But, again, I am picking out curiosities which struck me the most. There are many others - small matters that shake us a little out of our assumption that the life we know is the only life possible.
And, as always, Canetti's understated and transparent prose is such a pleasure to read.
(*) Canetti is a Sephardic Jew born in Bulgaria, a polyglot who chose to write in German because it was the "private" language between him and his mother. Canetti wrote one of the finest memoirs I have ever read, and the first volume, Die gerettete Zunge, about his childhood and adolescence, is magical.
Rating
In Die Stimmen von Marrakesch (1967) Elias Canetti (1905-1994) takes us into the bazaars and alleyways of Marrakesh with his typically quiet and intensely observant manner. Visiting Marrakesh for the first time, he has deliberately made no preparations to learn about the city and its inhabitants. He wants to experience it all with as much innocence as is possible for an elderly man of the world.
That isn't the way I travel, but to enter a city like Marrakesh with no preparation is to experience it as a mystery of the unexpected and the unusual. And so he does. Canetti's carefully chiseled and deceptively simple prose pulls the reader into this experience compellingly. So we wander through the ancient walled city sharing his wonder and his occasional discombobulation and anxiety.
For me, the most striking of the 13 sections of this text described his visit to the Mellah, the walled-in Jewish quarter.(*) From the bazaar at the entrance, so much like those of the North Africans and yet so different, he penetrates into the quarter and finds a packed courtyard full of little boys memorizing the Hebrew alphabet at the top of their lungs; their proud and poor teacher has his best students read for his foreign guest. He locates a square near the center of the quarter where he feels so much at home, feels such a sense of warmth and life that it is extremely difficult for him to leave. Each time he recommences his explorations he is drawn back to the square of bliss. After noticing the absence of beggars in the Jewish quarter (they are everywhere in the Arab portion of the city), he stumbles upon a desolate Jewish graveyard and discovers the entire flock of Jewish beggars gathered and prepared to descend upon him. But you must read it in his words.
Perhaps another reader would prefer the holy beggar who thoroughly sucked on each coin he was given, which riveted Canetti in place for so long that the surrounding shopkeepers, for whom the sight was normal, began to consider Canetti to be just as strange as he thought the beggar was. Or perhaps, instead, the woman who stood without facial veil at her second floor window murmuring phrases of love and affection into the street, directed at no one. Canetti was so disconcerted and intrigued that he began to attract the less than benign attention of the neighborhood. But, again, I am picking out curiosities which struck me the most. There are many others - small matters that shake us a little out of our assumption that the life we know is the only life possible.
And, as always, Canetti's understated and transparent prose is such a pleasure to read.
(*) Canetti is a Sephardic Jew born in Bulgaria, a polyglot who chose to write in German because it was the "private" language between him and his mother. Canetti wrote one of the finest memoirs I have ever read, and the first volume, Die gerettete Zunge, about his childhood and adolescence, is magical.
Rating
March 18, 2020
Nel 1954 Canetti prende una pausa dalla stesura del saggio "" e si reca in Marocco con amici che fanno parte di una troupe cinematografica.
.
"Quando si viaggia si prende tutto come viene, lo sdegno rimane a casa. Si osserva, si ascolta, ci si entusiasma per le cose più atroci perchè sono nuove"
E' con questo spirito che Canetti visita la città di Marrakech e, tornato a casa, sente l'urgenza di fermare su carta i ricordi, di giocare con le parole per riprodurre suoni: ne esce fuori uno scritto in bilico tra il diario di viaggio ed il éǾ. L’esperienza di ciò che si vede è legata alle emozioni del momento e dell’impatto con quell�altrove sorprendente.
Direi che questo è il vero pregio dell’opera.
Visi e soprattutto voci in una città che fortemente sopprime il silenzio.
Echeggiano litanie, preghiere, richiami, canti, racconti; tutto in un fluire ripetuto ogni giorno come in un rituale da cui ci si lascia trasportare:
"...non ho imparato né l'arabo né alcuna delle lingue berbere: Non volevo perdere nulla della forza di quelle strane grida. Volevo essere colpito da quei suoni per ciò che essi erano..."
Piazza Jamaa el Fna- Marrakech
Mendicanti con i loro lamenti;
donne velate che nascondono lo sguardo ma non le voci;
cantastorie che nutrono il popolo di parole;
mercanti -ficcati negli angusti souk che brillano di sgargianti colori- che gridano sbandierando le qualità della propria merce;
berberi misteriosi che parlano lingue che pochi conoscono ("emettere suoni inintelligibili" in arabo si dice barbarda cui deriva la parola “berbero)...
Non sempre l'esperienza riesce, tuttavia, a tradursi in parole e la carta da sempre amica diventa una materia ostile che non vuole sottomettersi al pensiero:
"Una sostanza meravigliosamente lucente che non riesce a fluire rimane dentro di me e si fa beffe delle parole. Sarà per la lingua, che là non capivo e che ora a poco, a poco deve tradursi me?"
.
"Quando si viaggia si prende tutto come viene, lo sdegno rimane a casa. Si osserva, si ascolta, ci si entusiasma per le cose più atroci perchè sono nuove"
E' con questo spirito che Canetti visita la città di Marrakech e, tornato a casa, sente l'urgenza di fermare su carta i ricordi, di giocare con le parole per riprodurre suoni: ne esce fuori uno scritto in bilico tra il diario di viaggio ed il éǾ. L’esperienza di ciò che si vede è legata alle emozioni del momento e dell’impatto con quell�altrove sorprendente.
Direi che questo è il vero pregio dell’opera.
Visi e soprattutto voci in una città che fortemente sopprime il silenzio.
Echeggiano litanie, preghiere, richiami, canti, racconti; tutto in un fluire ripetuto ogni giorno come in un rituale da cui ci si lascia trasportare:
"...non ho imparato né l'arabo né alcuna delle lingue berbere: Non volevo perdere nulla della forza di quelle strane grida. Volevo essere colpito da quei suoni per ciò che essi erano..."
Piazza Jamaa el Fna- Marrakech
Mendicanti con i loro lamenti;
donne velate che nascondono lo sguardo ma non le voci;
cantastorie che nutrono il popolo di parole;
mercanti -ficcati negli angusti souk che brillano di sgargianti colori- che gridano sbandierando le qualità della propria merce;
berberi misteriosi che parlano lingue che pochi conoscono ("emettere suoni inintelligibili" in arabo si dice barbarda cui deriva la parola “berbero)...
Non sempre l'esperienza riesce, tuttavia, a tradursi in parole e la carta da sempre amica diventa una materia ostile che non vuole sottomettersi al pensiero:
"Una sostanza meravigliosamente lucente che non riesce a fluire rimane dentro di me e si fa beffe delle parole. Sarà per la lingua, che là non capivo e che ora a poco, a poco deve tradursi me?"
January 7, 2018
Canetti ve Kamuran Şipal çevirisi.. Başka sözüm yok hakim bey desem yeter belki ama tanımayan okur için bir iki kelam edelim.
Öncelikle eseri cem yayınevinin 1987 basımından okudum. Bu baskı üç bölümden oluşuyor. 1. Bölümde Canetti Fas'da geçirdiği günlerden geriye kalanları öykü- anı- denemenin iç içe geçtiği bir üslupla anlatıyor. Bu bölüme dair Canetti'ye duyduğum sevgiden kaynaklı oryantalizm kaygım vardı ki hikayeler( develer, kör dilenciler, allah allah sesleri) bu sulara yelken açılacak duruluktaydı. Neyse ki Canetti bu kolay okumacılığa yenik düşmemiş. Bu bölümden Marabu'nun tükürüğü ve Dahan ailesini özellikle tavsiye ederim.
Özdeyiş ve notlardan oluşan ikinci bölümde Kitle ve İktidarı yazmış Canetti ile tanışıyoruz aslında. Kısa anektod ve aforizmalar eşliğinde 1942-72 arasında alınmış demek ki dert edilmiş meseleleri görüyoruz. Bu bölümde Kitle ve İktidar'ın gücünü hissettiğim anlar oldu. Kitle ve iktidarı okumak isteyenler tanışma babında bu bölüme bakabilir.
3. Bölüm ise Kurtarılmış Dil'den alınmış Özyaşam Öyküsü'nden bir bölüm. Sanırım iki ve üçüncü bölümler bugün piyasada bulunan baskılarda yer almıyor. Bulursanız cem yayınevi baskısından, olmadı Sel'den okumanızı tavsiye ederim.
Öncelikle eseri cem yayınevinin 1987 basımından okudum. Bu baskı üç bölümden oluşuyor. 1. Bölümde Canetti Fas'da geçirdiği günlerden geriye kalanları öykü- anı- denemenin iç içe geçtiği bir üslupla anlatıyor. Bu bölüme dair Canetti'ye duyduğum sevgiden kaynaklı oryantalizm kaygım vardı ki hikayeler( develer, kör dilenciler, allah allah sesleri) bu sulara yelken açılacak duruluktaydı. Neyse ki Canetti bu kolay okumacılığa yenik düşmemiş. Bu bölümden Marabu'nun tükürüğü ve Dahan ailesini özellikle tavsiye ederim.
Özdeyiş ve notlardan oluşan ikinci bölümde Kitle ve İktidarı yazmış Canetti ile tanışıyoruz aslında. Kısa anektod ve aforizmalar eşliğinde 1942-72 arasında alınmış demek ki dert edilmiş meseleleri görüyoruz. Bu bölümde Kitle ve İktidar'ın gücünü hissettiğim anlar oldu. Kitle ve iktidarı okumak isteyenler tanışma babında bu bölüme bakabilir.
3. Bölüm ise Kurtarılmış Dil'den alınmış Özyaşam Öyküsü'nden bir bölüm. Sanırım iki ve üçüncü bölümler bugün piyasada bulunan baskılarda yer almıyor. Bulursanız cem yayınevi baskısından, olmadı Sel'den okumanızı tavsiye ederim.
April 13, 2019
Em 1952, Elias Canetti esteve em Marraquexe com um grupo de amigos � uma equipa de cineastas que lá se deslocou para a rodagem de um filme � e aproveitou esses dias para conhecer a cidade. Observou, conversou com os habitantes e dessa experiência dá-nos conta em catorze belos e emocionantes textos.
Como aliciante para futuros leitores deste precioso livro, transcrevo os títulos, que me parecem mais sugestivos, de alguns capítulos:
- Encontro com camelos
- Os souks
- As lamentações dos cegos
- O silêncio da casa e o vazio dos telhados
- A mulher atrás das grades
- Os contadores de histórias e os escribas
- A escolha do pão
_____________
Prémio Nobel da Literatura 1981
Elias Canetti nasceu na ܱá (Ruse) em 25 de Julho de 1905 e morreu na Suíça (Zurique) em 14 de Agosto de 1994.
Como aliciante para futuros leitores deste precioso livro, transcrevo os títulos, que me parecem mais sugestivos, de alguns capítulos:
- Encontro com camelos
- Os souks
- As lamentações dos cegos
- O silêncio da casa e o vazio dos telhados
- A mulher atrás das grades
- Os contadores de histórias e os escribas
- A escolha do pão
_____________
Prémio Nobel da Literatura 1981
Elias Canetti nasceu na ܱá (Ruse) em 25 de Julho de 1905 e morreu na Suíça (Zurique) em 14 de Agosto de 1994.
October 7, 2016
تاريخ القراءة الأصلي : بداية الألفية.
في بعض الآحيان تخرج جائزة نوبل عن التزامها الجامد بتتويج فائز ينتمي حصرا لجنس أدبي معين. ولا شك أن إلياس كانيتي هو من العقول والأقلام الموسوعية التي تستحق التكريم والاحتفاء. ما الذي قدمه كانيتي؟ عدى عن كتابه الفكري المهم "الجماهير والسلطة" فإن كتاباته اتسمت دوما بالجمع المكثف والأنيق بين أنواع مختلفة من المعرفة في بوتقة أدبية وأحيانا حكائية ذات تقنيات حداثية ولكن بنفس كلاسيكي جذاب.
في هذا الكتاب الأنيق الذي ينتمي إلى أدب الرحلات، يقوم كانيتي بتسجيل وتحليل أصوات وروائح والحيوانات والدراويش وكل ما هو غريب ومغربي وعربي وغريب بالنسبة له كأوروبي. ولأن كانيتي يهودي، فقد حرص على زيارة الحي اليهودي في مراكش، وهناك ورغم أنه يهودي أوروبي إلا آنه شعر بالإنتماء والراحة بين اليهود المغاربة.
الكتاب يعكس المخيال الغربي وخاصة في الفترة الإستعمارية حول الشرق وسكانه وعاداتهم بل وحياتهم الجنسية.
كتاب جيد وخفيف.
في بعض الآحيان تخرج جائزة نوبل عن التزامها الجامد بتتويج فائز ينتمي حصرا لجنس أدبي معين. ولا شك أن إلياس كانيتي هو من العقول والأقلام الموسوعية التي تستحق التكريم والاحتفاء. ما الذي قدمه كانيتي؟ عدى عن كتابه الفكري المهم "الجماهير والسلطة" فإن كتاباته اتسمت دوما بالجمع المكثف والأنيق بين أنواع مختلفة من المعرفة في بوتقة أدبية وأحيانا حكائية ذات تقنيات حداثية ولكن بنفس كلاسيكي جذاب.
في هذا الكتاب الأنيق الذي ينتمي إلى أدب الرحلات، يقوم كانيتي بتسجيل وتحليل أصوات وروائح والحيوانات والدراويش وكل ما هو غريب ومغربي وعربي وغريب بالنسبة له كأوروبي. ولأن كانيتي يهودي، فقد حرص على زيارة الحي اليهودي في مراكش، وهناك ورغم أنه يهودي أوروبي إلا آنه شعر بالإنتماء والراحة بين اليهود المغاربة.
الكتاب يعكس المخيال الغربي وخاصة في الفترة الإستعمارية حول الشرق وسكانه وعاداتهم بل وحياتهم الجنسية.
كتاب جيد وخفيف.
June 9, 2020
Brevi racconti, singole suggestioni, un insieme di voci a captare la vera anima del Paese nel quale si soggiorna, questo l’esito letterario di un soggiorno che Elias Canetti fece in Marocco nel 1954 al seguito di una troupe cinematografica. Una città in particolare, Marrakech, crocevia di uomini, mercato di cammelli, piazza mercantile: i suk, le segrete abitazioni, le donne velate, gli uomini operosi, un rincorrersi di voci e di silenzi. Ma anche i mendicanti, i bambini a frotte, il marabutto e i suoni a intessere storie. Una fusione perfetta, a cornice le suggestioni visive tutte meravigliosamente riportate da una prosa a tratti lirica, capace di intrecciare il substrato del vissuto personale e la storia che lo connota con la particolarità del luogo nel quale ci si trova. Esempio ne sono le pagine nelle quali viene riportata l’attività dei cantastorie, pagine che portano a riflessioni intime sul potere della parola parlata su quella scritta con conseguente disprezzo per chi, come lui, ha costantemente bisogno di carta per poter esprimersi e di un sapere freddo e accessorio. È evidente che basta una parola narrata, un epos, ad alimentare l’immaginazione come con gli antichi aedi. Marrakech è anche città di ebrei, nel suo quartiere ebraico della Mellah l’autore assapora, ritrovandole, le sue radici sefardite: “Camminavo più lentamente che potevo osservando quei volti. La loro varietà era stupefacente. C’erano volti che, in abiti diversi, avrei preso per arabi. C’erano i vecchi ebrei luminosi di Rembrandt […]. C’erano gli “eterni ebrei�, su tutta la figura era scritta la loro irrequietezza.�
Un vero e proprio reportage di viaggio che coniuga il dato etnico e antropologico a quello più intimo, di un sentire universale nel quale le voci udite fungono da semplici porte di accesso.
Un vero e proprio reportage di viaggio che coniuga il dato etnico e antropologico a quello più intimo, di un sentire universale nel quale le voci udite fungono da semplici porte di accesso.
December 29, 2021
3.5 stars.
A collection of stories of his time spent in Morocco (post-1953, guessed by looking at a short history bit in my DK Morocco guide), a lot seem to be possible to have happened in those few weeks. Canetti’s personality, moods, and some connection to his Jewishness (though not as practicing as to be comfortable to join for a festival celebration at one point of the book) through his visits to Mellah, the Jewish part of the city, come out clear even when he concentrates on the sights
smells, crowds, and sounds of the city, both positive and negative, the latter influencing my rating.
Subjects include: the three badly-ending encounters with camels, what the souks (marketplaces) are like, rooftop view etiquette, a certain family in Mellah (Canetti is the most impressed with the father; the rest are way below in quality), storytellers and scribes, bread-selling women, all the types of beggars he sees there. I think the most disgusting person here is the French proprietor of a restaurant whose brothel manners, and the icky details of it, may mean that the author stopped visiting the restaurant (or really really should have, after that). And all those suffering animals were hard to read.
But the hard stuff is balanced by how well he can give us the feel of the place, at least how it was at the time. The sounds, the smells, the people, the buildings, his favorite places, how things are in different times of the day� you may or may not want to visit, but you get a good way of traveling just reading this book.
A collection of stories of his time spent in Morocco (post-1953, guessed by looking at a short history bit in my DK Morocco guide), a lot seem to be possible to have happened in those few weeks. Canetti’s personality, moods, and some connection to his Jewishness (though not as practicing as to be comfortable to join for a festival celebration at one point of the book) through his visits to Mellah, the Jewish part of the city, come out clear even when he concentrates on the sights
smells, crowds, and sounds of the city, both positive and negative, the latter influencing my rating.
Subjects include: the three badly-ending encounters with camels, what the souks (marketplaces) are like, rooftop view etiquette, a certain family in Mellah (Canetti is the most impressed with the father; the rest are way below in quality), storytellers and scribes, bread-selling women, all the types of beggars he sees there. I think the most disgusting person here is the French proprietor of a restaurant whose brothel manners, and the icky details of it, may mean that the author stopped visiting the restaurant (or really really should have, after that). And all those suffering animals were hard to read.
But the hard stuff is balanced by how well he can give us the feel of the place, at least how it was at the time. The sounds, the smells, the people, the buildings, his favorite places, how things are in different times of the day� you may or may not want to visit, but you get a good way of traveling just reading this book.
March 12, 2012
رحلة الياس كانيتي الكاتب الألماني من أصل بلغاري في المغرب هي رحلة تأملات وأصوات كثيرة عبرها السارد مشدوها بتلك الحكايات والأسرارالغريبة , التي تختفي خلف جدران وساحات تجري فيها العيون المتلصصة والأصابع الصغيرة , على الرغم من الكثير من المشاهد التي سارت بكانيتي والتي قد تثير غثيان أي زائر أجنبي إلا أنه كان إنسانيا جدا في التعامل مع الفقر الجهل الولاة أوالعميان الأطفال وحتى المجانين , نظرة كانيتي ورؤيته تستحق التقدير ألا يكفي أنه غرق في حب هذه المدينة فتعاطف مع جمالهم وحميرهم ولم يغب عنه صوتا حتى وإن كان لمجهول ولا صورة حتى لو كانت لمخفي
من أجمل ما قرأته كانت عباراته الدافئة مع أطفال الشوارع , ربما أعود يوما ما لأسمع أصوات مراكش من جديد إنها فعلا تستحق !
كانيتي ) حاصل على جائزة نوبل )
من أجمل ما قرأته كانت عباراته الدافئة مع أطفال الشوارع , ربما أعود يوما ما لأسمع أصوات مراكش من جديد إنها فعلا تستحق !
كانيتي ) حاصل على جائزة نوبل )
August 26, 2018
In den Aufzeichnungen über seinen Aufenthalt in Marrakesch erweist sich Elias Canetti als ein großer Meister der Kunst, sich seiner Sinneseindrücke, Empfindungen und Gedanken ganz pur und ohne jede Bewertung gewahr zu sein. Ich würde diese Kunst gerne als Achtsamkeit bezeichnen, wenn man dieses Wort noch verwenden könnte. Canetti erzählt von der Stadt und seinen Erlebnissen mit ihren Bewohnern in einfacher, klarer und melodiöser Sprache, urteilsfrei, so wie er sie in ihrer Essenz wahrgenommen hat. Das Buch ist eine Meditation. Mehr darüber zu sagen ist nicht nötig.
September 7, 2023
Morocco is one of those countries which have a rich history and culture, but are stricken with poverty, gender inequality, unemployment, drugs, and violence in modern times. Moroccan architecture and food have had a huge influence in Europe, especially in Spain. Despite this, for Westerners, Morocco remains a fabled 'eastern' land, especially in the 1960s when The Voices of Marrakesh was published. This comes through in the book.
The voice comes across as very Eurocentric and Canetti does not seem to realise the effects of colonisation on the culture and behaviour of the residents. He finds it amusing when a local unemployed Moroccan treats him and his friends like lords and masters. Canetti's attitude is often cringy, especially with respect to how he tried to catch glimpses of the local women. I don't think Europe had come to terms with the end of colonisation by this time, and it probably shows in Canetti's behaviour and tone.
That said, this book had excellent and evocative writing. Canetti seems to be obsessed with the beggars, and devotes more than one chapter to them! Other topics covered are camel markets, souqs, women in purdah, Moroccan houses, American presence in Morocco (this is after WW2), and food. The writing had the quality of transporting you to the time and place, for which I can really forgive a lot of things. Even Canetti's attitude itself is very 'in' with the times.
I rather enjoyed this book despite all its faults. It's a very thin book and does not really tell a story. Instead, it's in the form of essays on different topics, which give them a nice bookending effect. I am not sure how much and in what ways Morocco has changed over the last 55 years, but I would love to visit Canetti's Morocco.
The voice comes across as very Eurocentric and Canetti does not seem to realise the effects of colonisation on the culture and behaviour of the residents. He finds it amusing when a local unemployed Moroccan treats him and his friends like lords and masters. Canetti's attitude is often cringy, especially with respect to how he tried to catch glimpses of the local women. I don't think Europe had come to terms with the end of colonisation by this time, and it probably shows in Canetti's behaviour and tone.
That said, this book had excellent and evocative writing. Canetti seems to be obsessed with the beggars, and devotes more than one chapter to them! Other topics covered are camel markets, souqs, women in purdah, Moroccan houses, American presence in Morocco (this is after WW2), and food. The writing had the quality of transporting you to the time and place, for which I can really forgive a lot of things. Even Canetti's attitude itself is very 'in' with the times.
I rather enjoyed this book despite all its faults. It's a very thin book and does not really tell a story. Instead, it's in the form of essays on different topics, which give them a nice bookending effect. I am not sure how much and in what ways Morocco has changed over the last 55 years, but I would love to visit Canetti's Morocco.
April 26, 2015
علاقةُ إلياسِ كانيتي بمراكشَ ليستْ علاقةَ سائحٍ عابرٍ وإنَّما علاقةٌ غريبةٌ مشوبةٌ بحزمةٍ من العواطفِ، ومعرفةِ المجهولِ واكتشافِ عاداتِ الناسِ وحياتِهم الداخليةِ؛ لذا فنصوصُه هنا لم تكنْ نصوصًا عاديةً بلْ مبهرةً، فأنا الذي لم أزرْ مراكشَ نقَلَني إليْها، نقَلَني إلى : أسواقِها أسواقِ بيعِ الإبلِ والحميرِ، وأسواقِ البهاراتِ، وأسواقِ الملابسِ التقليديةِ المراكشيةِ ، إلى مُتسوليها وهمْ يحتلونَ هنا موضعًا أساسيا لمْ يكونوا على هوامشِ الكتابِ كهامشيتِهم في الحياةِ والموقفِ النبيلِ الذي يُبديه إلياسُ تجاههم يتكررُ، إلى ساحاتِها وحاراتِها القديمةِ ومحاولاتِه الولوجَ لعُمقِ البيتِ المراكشي.
ترجمةُ كامل يوسف هي الأخرى لم تكنْ أقلَّ جمالا وإبداعًا من نصوصِ كانيتي.
ترجمةُ كامل يوسف هي الأخرى لم تكنْ أقلَّ جمالا وإبداعًا من نصوصِ كانيتي.
July 18, 2018
Um dos melhores livros de viagem que li! Fiquei chocada do modo como os marroquinos tratam os camelos. Animais tão majestousos!
O narrador retrata o mercado, os escribas e a sociedade de Marrocos. Deu-me vontade de conhecer tão beloo lugar!
O narrador retrata o mercado, os escribas e a sociedade de Marrocos. Deu-me vontade de conhecer tão beloo lugar!
February 7, 2017
I hesitated about whether to describe this as a book of essays or short stories. Canetti certainly presents them as realistic sketches, but I cannot help but feel that they were also shaped into little stories by the author. Mind you, if all of the details were just as he experienced them, it makes the book even more fascinating! Canetti starts off in an amusing way, with a story about three unfortunate encounters with camels. Some of my favourite lines in the collection were in this essay. The next essay is about the souks, and what they are to the commercial life of Marrakech - and how the particular negotiating style of the souk is an art form in itself. I'm not sure when Canetti visited - at some point he refers to meeting a survivor of WWI - but the book itself was published in 1967. Quite a bit of the book is devoted to the Jewish section of Marrakech - quite small now, and not much in evidence during my recent visit there. Because Canetti is descended from Sephardic Jews, this was of particular interest to him. One of the most intriguing essays was about the Chinese-French female owner of a bar - and its unusual regulars. There were several interesting insights here about the Glaoui family - who collaborated with the French to overthrow the old regime of Sultan Mohammed V. The book ends up with a kind of symbolic essay to the power of endurance - embodied in the most pitiful of beggars. None of the parts are more than sketches, but it does give you a flavour of Moroccan culture with its rich mix of Berber, Arabic and French influence and its Muslim faith. Canetti's writing style has a graceful simplicity to it which made me eager to read other of his books.
May 5, 2014
Il s'agit d'un livre sur le rythme de vie d'une des plus importantes villes du monde arabe, de Marrakech au Maroc. Elias Canetti fait revivre devant nos yeux les sons de la place centrale de Marrakech, Djema el-Fna (ou Jamaa el Fna), les cris des muezzins depuis le haut des minarets, les conversations des vendeurs de rue, les stéréotypes coloniaux européens� Tous les sons de cette ville particulière, surnomée la Perle du Sud, se réunissent dans le son du Monde qui nous n'est que trop peu connu.
January 20, 2019
Impressioni di viaggio del premio Nobel Elias Canetti.
Anche se non è un vero e proprio romanzo, ho trovato molto coinvolgente la lettura di questi frammenti narrativi scritti durante un soggiorno di Canetti nel 1954 a Marrakech.
Mi sono trovato insieme a cammelli, donne velate, mendicanti ciechi e mercanti ebrei magnificamente descritti dall’autore in una sorta di quadro pittorico della città marocchina composto da attraenti macchie cromatiche. Come quelle delle matasse colorate nei suk dei tintori.
Il prezzo della merce, poi, suscita qualche riflessione:
Nei paesi in cui vige la morale del prezzo, e perciò dominano i prezzi fissi, comprare qualcosa non è certo un'arte. Qualsiasi imbecille riesce a trovare le cose di cui ha bisogno, qualsiasi imbecille, purché sappia leggere i numeri, è in grado di non farsi abbindolare.
Nei suk invece il prezzo che viene detto per primo è un enigma inafferrabile.
Nessuno lo conosce in anticipo, neppure il commerciante, perché di prezzi ce ne sono moltissimi, a seconda delle circostanze.
Alcune immagini, quasi foto da strada, mi sono rimaste impresse particolarmente; per esempio passeggiando nella Mellah, il quartiere ebraico:
Camminavo più lentamente che potevo osservando quei volti. La loro varietà era stupefacente. C'erano volti che, in abiti diversi, avrei preso per arabi.
C'erano i vecchi ebrei luminosi di Rembrandt. C'erano preti cattolici ipocritamente umili e silenziosi. C'erano gli «eterni ebrei», su tutta la figura era scritta la loro irrequietezza. C'erano francesi, spagnoli, e russi coi capelli fulvi. Uno di questi veniva voglia di salutarlo come il patriarca Abramo�
� Comunque avevano tutti qualcosa in comune, e appena mi fui abituato alla grande varietà dei loro volti e delle loro espressioni, cercai di scoprire in che cosa realmente consistesse questo tratto comune. Avevano una speciale rapidità nell'alzare lo sguardo e nel farsi un'opinione sulla persona che camminava davanti a loro.
Così l’immagine delle donne velate che vendono il pane, con il loro bizarro rituale, o i piccoli mendicanti che sostano vicino al ristorante frequentato dai turisti e fanno a gara per aggiudicarsi qualcosa da loro, passando da uno stato di quasi moribondi ad un altro di gioiosa felicità dopo aver ricevuto l’elemosina.
La triste storia di Ginette, che cerca di fuggire dalla squallida situazione in cui si trova, e la descrizione dell’invisibile figura nascosta in un fagotto buttato per terra che emette un suono disumano, un ronzante ed incessante aaaaa che colpisce lasciando intuire ben poco sulla sua vera natura, sono gli ultimi scorci che ci lascia l’autore.
Facendomi desiderare che continuasse il racconto.
Anche se non è un vero e proprio romanzo, ho trovato molto coinvolgente la lettura di questi frammenti narrativi scritti durante un soggiorno di Canetti nel 1954 a Marrakech.
Mi sono trovato insieme a cammelli, donne velate, mendicanti ciechi e mercanti ebrei magnificamente descritti dall’autore in una sorta di quadro pittorico della città marocchina composto da attraenti macchie cromatiche. Come quelle delle matasse colorate nei suk dei tintori.
Il prezzo della merce, poi, suscita qualche riflessione:
Nei paesi in cui vige la morale del prezzo, e perciò dominano i prezzi fissi, comprare qualcosa non è certo un'arte. Qualsiasi imbecille riesce a trovare le cose di cui ha bisogno, qualsiasi imbecille, purché sappia leggere i numeri, è in grado di non farsi abbindolare.
Nei suk invece il prezzo che viene detto per primo è un enigma inafferrabile.
Nessuno lo conosce in anticipo, neppure il commerciante, perché di prezzi ce ne sono moltissimi, a seconda delle circostanze.
Alcune immagini, quasi foto da strada, mi sono rimaste impresse particolarmente; per esempio passeggiando nella Mellah, il quartiere ebraico:
Camminavo più lentamente che potevo osservando quei volti. La loro varietà era stupefacente. C'erano volti che, in abiti diversi, avrei preso per arabi.
C'erano i vecchi ebrei luminosi di Rembrandt. C'erano preti cattolici ipocritamente umili e silenziosi. C'erano gli «eterni ebrei», su tutta la figura era scritta la loro irrequietezza. C'erano francesi, spagnoli, e russi coi capelli fulvi. Uno di questi veniva voglia di salutarlo come il patriarca Abramo�
� Comunque avevano tutti qualcosa in comune, e appena mi fui abituato alla grande varietà dei loro volti e delle loro espressioni, cercai di scoprire in che cosa realmente consistesse questo tratto comune. Avevano una speciale rapidità nell'alzare lo sguardo e nel farsi un'opinione sulla persona che camminava davanti a loro.
Così l’immagine delle donne velate che vendono il pane, con il loro bizarro rituale, o i piccoli mendicanti che sostano vicino al ristorante frequentato dai turisti e fanno a gara per aggiudicarsi qualcosa da loro, passando da uno stato di quasi moribondi ad un altro di gioiosa felicità dopo aver ricevuto l’elemosina.
La triste storia di Ginette, che cerca di fuggire dalla squallida situazione in cui si trova, e la descrizione dell’invisibile figura nascosta in un fagotto buttato per terra che emette un suono disumano, un ronzante ed incessante aaaaa che colpisce lasciando intuire ben poco sulla sua vera natura, sono gli ultimi scorci che ci lascia l’autore.
Facendomi desiderare che continuasse il racconto.
December 10, 2016
عين أديب نوبل كانت كليلة، وهى لا ترى في مراكش أواسط القرن العشرين سوى التسول، والفقر، والدعارة، وبحثه الدءوب لاختراق قيم المجتمع الذي أنهكهه الاحتلال الفرنسي، فنجده لم يبرز أثر الاستعمار وعملائه ولو عرضًا على ما وصلت إليه حال تلك البلاد آنذاك، وكيف ذاك؟ وهو الألماني لغة، الإنجليزي مشربًا، فلم يكن أمامه سوى التسول والمزيد من التسول والامتهان ، خاصة أنه لم ينس أن يخبرنا ظاهرا ومستترا بفائض عطائه وعطفه على مظاهر البؤس والخنوع.
March 17, 2017
Canetti'nin Fas yolculuğundan izlenimleri. Yahudi mahallesi Mellah'ı ziyareti, evlerin içini çok merak ettiği için rastgele tanıştığı Dahan ailesiyle yaşadıkları ilginçti.
April 27, 2016
Δεύτερο non-fiction βιβλίο που διαβάζω στην σειρά, αυτή την φορά από τον Νομπελίστα συγγραφέα Ελίας Κανέτι. Πρώτη μου επαφή με το έργο του Κανέτι, δεν μπορώ να πω ότι ενθουσιάστηκα, η αλήθεια είναι ότι μου φάνηκε ένα απλώς συμπαθητικό βιβλίο, όχι ιδιαίτερα ενδιαφέρον ή ιντριγκαδόρικο. Ο Κανέτι επισκέφθηκε το Μαρόκο το 1954 και σ'αυτό το μικρό βιβλίο διαβάζουμε τις εντυπώσεις που αποκόμισε από την χώρα αυτή, αλλά ειδικότερα από το Μαρακές. Το βιβλίο χωρίζεται σε δεκατέσσερα κεφάλαια (ή ιστορίες), μέσω των οποίων βλέπουμε, γευόμαστε και οσμιζόμαστε το πολύβουο Μαρακές, με τις καμήλες του, τους ζητιάνους του, τους εμπόρους του και όλα αυτά που το χαρακτηρίζουν.
Κάτι τέτοιες αφηγήσεις συνήθως μου αρέσουν, ειδικά από μέρη όπως η Αφρική, όμως οι συγκεκριμένες αφηγήσεις δεν με "συγκίνησαν" ιδιαίτερα. Μπορώ να πω ότι σε ορισμένα σημεία βαρέθηκα κιόλας. Όχι ότι δεν έχει και τις αρετές του σαν βιβλίο, ας πούμε η πρώτη ιστορία μου άρεσε αρκετά, και κάποιες άλλες είχαν τις στιγμές τους, όμως τελικά, όταν τελείωσα το βιβλίο, δεν ένιωσα κάτι. Την γραφή θα την χαρακτήριζα αρκετά καλή, χωρίς να μου κάνει κάποια εντύπωση όμως. Φυσικά η άποψή μου είναι υποκειμενική, δεν σημαίνει ότι το βιβλίο δεν θ'αρέσει περισσότερο σε κάποιον άλλο.
Κάτι τέτοιες αφηγήσεις συνήθως μου αρέσουν, ειδικά από μέρη όπως η Αφρική, όμως οι συγκεκριμένες αφηγήσεις δεν με "συγκίνησαν" ιδιαίτερα. Μπορώ να πω ότι σε ορισμένα σημεία βαρέθηκα κιόλας. Όχι ότι δεν έχει και τις αρετές του σαν βιβλίο, ας πούμε η πρώτη ιστορία μου άρεσε αρκετά, και κάποιες άλλες είχαν τις στιγμές τους, όμως τελικά, όταν τελείωσα το βιβλίο, δεν ένιωσα κάτι. Την γραφή θα την χαρακτήριζα αρκετά καλή, χωρίς να μου κάνει κάποια εντύπωση όμως. Φυσικά η άποψή μου είναι υποκειμενική, δεν σημαίνει ότι το βιβλίο δεν θ'αρέσει περισσότερο σε κάποιον άλλο.
February 9, 2016
opinião aqui:
November 14, 2020
Hat mich leider vollkommen kalt gelassen. Schade.
May 27, 2016
Charming short essays based on close observations made while Canetti wandered the streets of Marrakech during a single brief visit in 1954. Having just returned from there, I enjoyed every word. I don't know if the blind beggars are still there (I didn't see them), but the winding streets and hidden courtyards, glimpsed through low doorways, certainly are. The Jews of Marrakech are almost all gone now, and Canetti's encounters with them are a reminder of how vital they once were to Morocco's economy. The huge square called Djemaa el Fna still offers up snake charmers and musicians, but today it's more lively at night than by day, which seems the opposite of Canetti's experience. It's strange but also comforting to recognize the feelings and milieu that Canetti experienced 60 years ago.
One thing I liked very much was how Canetti seems almost to fall in love with individuals, whether male or female, based on their way of looking at him or their posture, but at the same time (it seemed to me) he did not romanticize them. Yes, they were exotic to him, of course (and he to them), but they were clearly fellow human beings in his eyes. There's a rare tone to these essays, indicating that although he could not really dive deep into this foreign culture, he could touch it gently and appreciate it.
Note: "The Souks," the second essay in the book, has a wonderful reflection on the art of bargaining for a price that is required in any Arab or Berber market.
One thing I liked very much was how Canetti seems almost to fall in love with individuals, whether male or female, based on their way of looking at him or their posture, but at the same time (it seemed to me) he did not romanticize them. Yes, they were exotic to him, of course (and he to them), but they were clearly fellow human beings in his eyes. There's a rare tone to these essays, indicating that although he could not really dive deep into this foreign culture, he could touch it gently and appreciate it.
Note: "The Souks," the second essay in the book, has a wonderful reflection on the art of bargaining for a price that is required in any Arab or Berber market.
September 3, 2012
I lived in Marrakesh as a child in the '50s so this was a really nostalgic trip for me, made highly enjoyable by Canetti's keen and observant eye which conjures up the true spirit of a wonderful city. Highly recommended
October 23, 2021
عمل عادي، ولو كتبه من حاز على نوبل. والمغرب أجمل في عيوننا من شهادة غربي يبحث عن "الغرائبي" في غيره.
January 13, 2021
كانتيني نوبل 1981
لك كل الاحترام والتقدير
مراكش العزه والعنفوان قلب الحضاره النابض
عنوان الكتاب يجعلك تتسعد لاستخدام حاسه النظر والتخيل
ولكن المفاجاه ان تشم رائحه السوق بين الصفحات
تطلع من الأسواق رائحة التوابل. كل شيء هنا طازج والألوان تنهمر انهماراً. لكن الرائحة التي تبدو على الدوام عذبة، تتبدل بتبدّل طبيعة البضائع. ليست للمحلات هنا أسماء ولا يافطات. وليست فيها واجهات. بل كل ما يمكن بيعه معروض هنا. والمرء العابر المكان لا يمكنه أبداً أن يعرف كم سعر هذا الشيء أو ذاك. الأسعار ليست مسجلة على بطاقات... بل هي غير محددة على الإطلاق". "إن كيس الجلد الذي قد ترغب في شرائه، ستجده معروضاً لدى عشرين حانوتاً وكل حانوت يلتصق بالثاني التصاقاً. هنا تشاهد بائعاً متربعاً وسط بضاعته بشكل يجعل كل البضائع في متناول يده لأن المكان ضيق. بالكاد يحتاج إلى مد ذراعه على طوله للوصول إلى أي كيس من الأكياس. فإن وقف فإنما يقف تهذيباً إن لم يكن مسنّاً".
عندما تلمس المصنوعات اليدويه تشعر بان الكرامة التي تنبض بها تلك الحوائج المصنوعة بأيد بشرية، تبدو مدهشة، لكنها أحياناً قد تكون هجينة إذ يحدث أن تتسلل إليها عناصر مشكوك فيها مصنوعة على الآلات أو مستوردة من بلاد الشمال. لكنها مع ذلك، تعرض بالأسلوب القديم نفسه...". ويروي كانيتي: "مررت بالقرب من سبيل عمومي. كان ثمة صبي ينحني عليه شارباً من مائه. انحرفت إلى اليسار فسمعت صوتاً عذباً دافئاً يأتي من أعلى. نظرت إلى البيت المواجه فرأيت وجه امرأة شابة يطل من الطابق الأول من خلف شباك. لم تكن محجبة ولها بشرة غامقة اللون، وكان وجهها شديد القرب من الشباك. كانت تتمتم بعبارات ذات كلمات مفعمة بالحنان. لم أفهم لماذا لم تكن محجبة لكني شعرت بأنها تتوجه بالحديث اليّ. لكني لم أرَ ساعديها. هل كانت مقيدة؟ ربما، لكن المهم أن كلماتها كانت تتدفق كنبع ماء رقراق من دون أن أفهم كلمة..."
لك كل الاحترام والتقدير
مراكش العزه والعنفوان قلب الحضاره النابض
عنوان الكتاب يجعلك تتسعد لاستخدام حاسه النظر والتخيل
ولكن المفاجاه ان تشم رائحه السوق بين الصفحات
تطلع من الأسواق رائحة التوابل. كل شيء هنا طازج والألوان تنهمر انهماراً. لكن الرائحة التي تبدو على الدوام عذبة، تتبدل بتبدّل طبيعة البضائع. ليست للمحلات هنا أسماء ولا يافطات. وليست فيها واجهات. بل كل ما يمكن بيعه معروض هنا. والمرء العابر المكان لا يمكنه أبداً أن يعرف كم سعر هذا الشيء أو ذاك. الأسعار ليست مسجلة على بطاقات... بل هي غير محددة على الإطلاق". "إن كيس الجلد الذي قد ترغب في شرائه، ستجده معروضاً لدى عشرين حانوتاً وكل حانوت يلتصق بالثاني التصاقاً. هنا تشاهد بائعاً متربعاً وسط بضاعته بشكل يجعل كل البضائع في متناول يده لأن المكان ضيق. بالكاد يحتاج إلى مد ذراعه على طوله للوصول إلى أي كيس من الأكياس. فإن وقف فإنما يقف تهذيباً إن لم يكن مسنّاً".
عندما تلمس المصنوعات اليدويه تشعر بان الكرامة التي تنبض بها تلك الحوائج المصنوعة بأيد بشرية، تبدو مدهشة، لكنها أحياناً قد تكون هجينة إذ يحدث أن تتسلل إليها عناصر مشكوك فيها مصنوعة على الآلات أو مستوردة من بلاد الشمال. لكنها مع ذلك، تعرض بالأسلوب القديم نفسه...". ويروي كانيتي: "مررت بالقرب من سبيل عمومي. كان ثمة صبي ينحني عليه شارباً من مائه. انحرفت إلى اليسار فسمعت صوتاً عذباً دافئاً يأتي من أعلى. نظرت إلى البيت المواجه فرأيت وجه امرأة شابة يطل من الطابق الأول من خلف شباك. لم تكن محجبة ولها بشرة غامقة اللون، وكان وجهها شديد القرب من الشباك. كانت تتمتم بعبارات ذات كلمات مفعمة بالحنان. لم أفهم لماذا لم تكن محجبة لكني شعرت بأنها تتوجه بالحديث اليّ. لكني لم أرَ ساعديها. هل كانت مقيدة؟ ربما، لكن المهم أن كلماتها كانت تتدفق كنبع ماء رقراق من دون أن أفهم كلمة..."
October 3, 2024
Impressionen von Canettis Aufenthalt in Marrakesch, die nicht über Orts- und Personenbeschreibungen hinauskommen. Ausgiebig versucht Canetti, mittels Vergleichen Begegnungen (mit einem Lehrer mit seinen Schülern z.B.) poetisch aufzuladen, aber es bleibt alles Stückwerk. Mitunter gerät er sogar in eine seltsame Ursprünglichkeitsfetischisierung, die der literarischen Qualität des Werkes ebenfalls nicht dienlich ist. Trotz der beschriebenen Personen stellt sich kein reiches Stadtpanorama ein.
March 23, 2024
Hoewel Canetti wel erg betrokken is bij het welzijn van minderbedeelden, lijkt deze interesse aan de andere kant ook weer geheel ingegeven door eigenbelang (het levert een verhaal op). De verhalen over Marrakesch zijn wel interessant, maar ik mis een beetje de ziel van de schrijver zelf. Je komt nauwelijks iets over hem te weten. Alles blijft oppervlakkig.
December 7, 2014
reiseberichte gehören nun wirklich nicht zu meiner lieblingslektüre, was wohl auch damit zu tun hat, dass ich selbst lieber im inneren meines kopfes unterwegs bin als diese erdkugel großräumig zu beackern.
wenn ich aber reise, dann mache ich es staunend und unwissend, dem neuen ort unbefangen begegnend, versuche mein leben in der neuen umgebung zu leben, wie gefärbt von den fremden, neuen eindrücken.
ganz so hat canetti in diesem übersichtlichen büchlein marrakesch geschildert: keine "profunde" analyse dortiger gepflogenheiten und ein versiertes berichten über fremde kulturen, nein: canetti staunt vor diesem land, bleibt staunend und erhebt sich nicht über den leser, gibt diesem vielmehr die chance, durch seine augen die fremde stadt, diese in der zeit steckengebliebene metropole zu erkunden.
das buch wird dadurch wertvoll, weil es einen achtsamen umgang mit dem fremden nahelegt und schmackhaft macht - ohne die eigene existenz hintanzuhalten.
canetti lebt wirklich in dieser stadt, schildert wesentliche eindrücke seines aufenthaltes, die für den "profund" reisenden völlig nebensächlich erscheinen mögen - aber für den "magisch" reisenden alles sind: die abgründe und gipfelspitzen eines landes, einer kultur, einer stadt, deren menschen, deren tiere, deren geister. viel stille muss man mitbringen, und ein offenes herz.
dieses buch entstand dank beidem.
wenn ich aber reise, dann mache ich es staunend und unwissend, dem neuen ort unbefangen begegnend, versuche mein leben in der neuen umgebung zu leben, wie gefärbt von den fremden, neuen eindrücken.
ganz so hat canetti in diesem übersichtlichen büchlein marrakesch geschildert: keine "profunde" analyse dortiger gepflogenheiten und ein versiertes berichten über fremde kulturen, nein: canetti staunt vor diesem land, bleibt staunend und erhebt sich nicht über den leser, gibt diesem vielmehr die chance, durch seine augen die fremde stadt, diese in der zeit steckengebliebene metropole zu erkunden.
das buch wird dadurch wertvoll, weil es einen achtsamen umgang mit dem fremden nahelegt und schmackhaft macht - ohne die eigene existenz hintanzuhalten.
canetti lebt wirklich in dieser stadt, schildert wesentliche eindrücke seines aufenthaltes, die für den "profund" reisenden völlig nebensächlich erscheinen mögen - aber für den "magisch" reisenden alles sind: die abgründe und gipfelspitzen eines landes, einer kultur, einer stadt, deren menschen, deren tiere, deren geister. viel stille muss man mitbringen, und ein offenes herz.
dieses buch entstand dank beidem.
May 31, 2021
Una serie di situazioni cupe, di povertà assoluta, raccontate con lingua sapiente.
E' il primo testo che leggo di Canetti e devo dire che mi aspettavo un'esperienza ostica, pesante, ma di grande carica filosofica; invece è stata essenziale e profonda in senso puramente romanzesco.
Leggendo questo libro si sente il tessuto dei vestiti che si appiccica sulla pelle per il caldo, si sentono gli odori del pane, delle persone che stanno ammassate in ogni situazione e il vociare costante che mescola preghiera e diverbio, contrattazione e pianto di carità.
Ci sono immagini molto forti che è tutt'ora difficile riuscire a concepire, cammelli rabbiosi, poveri dall'aura mistica, brutalità colonialista e persone che vivono nella miseria e nell'immobilità fino a scomparire, sempre più simili al paesaggio in cui vivono.
La cosa che ho apprezzato di più è che l'autore non cerca di insegnare un bel niente al lettore, anzi, gli propone una serie di situazioni e lascia che sia lui a farsi le ossa in mezzo alla calca, fra mani tese, drappi impolverati e parole francesi smozzicate.
Consigliato per chi ha voglia di lasciarsi trasportare in un luogo che forse non ha l'occasione di vedere, che forse, ormai, non esiste più.
E' il primo testo che leggo di Canetti e devo dire che mi aspettavo un'esperienza ostica, pesante, ma di grande carica filosofica; invece è stata essenziale e profonda in senso puramente romanzesco.
Leggendo questo libro si sente il tessuto dei vestiti che si appiccica sulla pelle per il caldo, si sentono gli odori del pane, delle persone che stanno ammassate in ogni situazione e il vociare costante che mescola preghiera e diverbio, contrattazione e pianto di carità.
Ci sono immagini molto forti che è tutt'ora difficile riuscire a concepire, cammelli rabbiosi, poveri dall'aura mistica, brutalità colonialista e persone che vivono nella miseria e nell'immobilità fino a scomparire, sempre più simili al paesaggio in cui vivono.
La cosa che ho apprezzato di più è che l'autore non cerca di insegnare un bel niente al lettore, anzi, gli propone una serie di situazioni e lascia che sia lui a farsi le ossa in mezzo alla calca, fra mani tese, drappi impolverati e parole francesi smozzicate.
Consigliato per chi ha voglia di lasciarsi trasportare in un luogo che forse non ha l'occasione di vedere, che forse, ormai, non esiste più.
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