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.
Awarded 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 础耻迟辞-诲补-贵茅, Party in the Blitz, Crowds and Power, and The Voices of Marrakesh: A Record of a Visit
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.
[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.
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 pi霉 atroci perch猫 sono nuove"
E' con questo spirito che Canetti visita la citt脿 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 尘茅尘辞颈谤. L鈥檈sperienza di ci貌 che si vede 猫 legata alle emozioni del momento e dell鈥檌mpatto con quell鈥�altrove sorprendente. Direi che questo 猫 il vero pregio dell鈥檕pera.
Visi e soprattutto voci in una citt脿 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 n茅 l'arabo n茅 alcuna delle lingue berbere: Non volevo perdere nulla della forza di quelle strane grida. Volevo essere colpito da quei suoni per ci貌 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 qualit脿 della propria merce; berberi misteriosi che parlano lingue che pochi conoscono ("emettere suoni inintelligibili" in arabo si dice barbarda cui deriva la parola 鈥渂erbero)...
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. Sar脿 per la lingua, che l脿 non capivo e che ora a poco, a poco deve tradursi me?"
Canetti ve Kamuran 艦ipal 莽evirisi.. Ba艧ka s枚z眉m yok hakim bey desem yeter belki ama tan谋mayan okur i莽in bir iki kelam edelim.
脰ncelikle eseri cem yay谋nevinin 1987 bas谋m谋ndan okudum. Bu bask谋 眉莽 b枚l眉mden olu艧uyor. 1. B枚l眉mde Canetti Fas'da ge莽irdi臒i g眉nlerden geriye kalanlar谋 枚yk眉- an谋- denemenin i莽 i莽e ge莽ti臒i bir 眉slupla anlat谋yor. Bu b枚l眉me dair Canetti'ye duydu臒um sevgiden kaynakl谋 oryantalizm kayg谋m vard谋 ki hikayeler( develer, k枚r dilenciler, allah allah sesleri) bu sulara yelken a莽谋lacak duruluktayd谋. Neyse ki Canetti bu kolay okumac谋l谋臒a yenik d眉艧memi艧. Bu b枚l眉mden Marabu'nun t眉k眉r眉臒眉 ve Dahan ailesini 枚zellikle tavsiye ederim.
脰zdeyi艧 ve notlardan olu艧an ikinci b枚l眉mde Kitle ve 陌ktidar谋 yazm谋艧 Canetti ile tan谋艧谋yoruz asl谋nda. K谋sa anektod ve aforizmalar e艧li臒inde 1942-72 aras谋nda al谋nm谋艧 demek ki dert edilmi艧 meseleleri g枚r眉yoruz. Bu b枚l眉mde Kitle ve 陌ktidar'谋n g眉c眉n眉 hissetti臒im anlar oldu. Kitle ve iktidar谋 okumak isteyenler tan谋艧ma bab谋nda bu b枚l眉me bakabilir.
3. B枚l眉m ise Kurtar谋lm谋艧 Dil'den al谋nm谋艧 脰zya艧am 脰yk眉s眉'nden bir b枚l眉m. San谋r谋m iki ve 眉莽眉nc眉 b枚l眉mler bug眉n piyasada bulunan bask谋larda yer alm谋yor. Bulursan谋z cem yay谋nevi bask谋s谋ndan, olmad谋 Sel'den okuman谋z谋 tavsiye ederim.
Em 1952, Elias Canetti esteve em Marraquexe com um grupo de amigos 鈥� uma equipa de cineastas que l谩 se deslocou para a rodagem de um filme 鈥� e aproveitou esses dias para conhecer a cidade. Observou, conversou com os habitantes e dessa experi锚ncia d谩-nos conta em catorze belos e emocionantes textos.
Como aliciante para futuros leitores deste precioso livro, transcrevo os t铆tulos, que me parecem mais sugestivos, de alguns cap铆tulos:
- Encontro com camelos - Os souks - As lamenta莽玫es dos cegos - O sil锚ncio da casa e o vazio dos telhados - A mulher atr谩s das grades - Os contadores de hist贸rias e os escribas - A escolha do p茫o
_____________ Pr茅mio Nobel da Literatura 1981 Elias Canetti nasceu na 叠耻濒驳谩谤颈补 (Ruse) em 25 de Julho de 1905 e morreu na Su铆莽a (Zurique) em 14 de Agosto de 1994.
Brevi racconti, singole suggestioni, un insieme di voci a captare la vera anima del Paese nel quale si soggiorna, questo l鈥檈sito letterario di un soggiorno che Elias Canetti fece in Marocco nel 1954 al seguito di una troupe cinematografica. Una citt脿 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 particolarit脿 del luogo nel quale ci si trova. Esempio ne sono le pagine nelle quali viene riportata l鈥檃ttivit脿 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. 脠 evidente che basta una parola narrata, un epos, ad alimentare l鈥檌mmaginazione come con gli antichi aedi. Marrakech 猫 anche citt脿 di ebrei, nel suo quartiere ebraico della Mellah l鈥檃utore assapora, ritrovandole, le sue radici sefardite: 鈥淐amminavo pi霉 lentamente che potevo osservando quei volti. La loro variet脿 era stupefacente. C鈥檈rano volti che, in abiti diversi, avrei preso per arabi. C鈥檈rano i vecchi ebrei luminosi di Rembrandt [鈥. C鈥檈rano gli 鈥渆terni ebrei鈥�, su tutta la figura era scritta la loro irrequietezza.鈥� Un vero e proprio reportage di viaggio che coniuga il dato etnico e antropologico a quello pi霉 intimo, di un sentire universale nel quale le voci udite fungono da semplici porte di accesso.
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鈥檚 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鈥� you may or may not want to visit, but you get a good way of traveling just reading this book.
In den Aufzeichnungen 眉ber seinen Aufenthalt in Marrakesch erweist sich Elias Canetti als ein gro脽er Meister der Kunst, sich seiner Sinneseindr眉cke, Empfindungen und Gedanken ganz pur und ohne jede Bewertung gewahr zu sein. Ich w眉rde diese Kunst gerne als Achtsamkeit bezeichnen, wenn man dieses Wort noch verwenden k枚nnte. Canetti erz盲hlt von der Stadt und seinen Erlebnissen mit ihren Bewohnern in einfacher, klarer und melodi枚ser Sprache, urteilsfrei, so wie er sie in ihrer Essenz wahrgenommen hat. Das Buch ist eine Meditation. Mehr dar眉ber zu sagen ist nicht n枚tig.
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.
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.
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 st茅r茅otypes coloniaux europ茅ens鈥� Tous les sons de cette ville particuli猫re, surnom茅e la Perle du Sud, se r茅unissent dans le son du Monde qui nous n'est que trop peu connu.
Impressioni di viaggio del premio Nobel Elias Canetti.
Anche se non 猫 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鈥檃utore in una sorta di quadro pittorico della citt脿 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 perci貌 dominano i prezzi fissi, comprare qualcosa non 猫 certo un'arte. Qualsiasi imbecille riesce a trovare le cose di cui ha bisogno, qualsiasi imbecille, purch茅 sappia leggere i numeri, 猫 in grado di non farsi abbindolare. Nei suk invece il prezzo che viene detto per primo 猫 un enigma inafferrabile. Nessuno lo conosce in anticipo, neppure il commerciante, perch茅 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 pi霉 lentamente che potevo osservando quei volti. La loro variet脿听 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 芦eterni ebrei禄, 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鈥� 鈥� Comunque avevano tutti qualcosa in comune, e appena mi fui abituato alla grande variet脿听 dei loro volti e delle loro espressioni, cercai di scoprire in che cosa realmente consistesse questo tratto comune. Avevano una speciale rapidit脿听 nell'alzare lo sguardo e nel farsi un'opinione sulla persona che camminava davanti a loro.
Cos矛 l鈥檌mmagine 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 felicit脿 dopo aver ricevuto l鈥檈lemosina.
La triste storia di Ginette, che cerca di fuggire dalla squallida situazione in cui si trova, e la descrizione dell鈥檌nvisibile 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鈥檃utore. Facendomi desiderare che continuasse il racconto.
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.
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
Impressionen von Canettis Aufenthalt in Marrakesch, die nicht 眉ber Orts- und Personenbeschreibungen hinauskommen. Ausgiebig versucht Canetti, mittels Vergleichen Begegnungen (mit einem Lehrer mit seinen Sch眉lern z.B.) poetisch aufzuladen, aber es bleibt alles St眉ckwerk. Mitunter ger盲t er sogar in eine seltsame Urspr眉nglichkeitsfetischisierung, die der literarischen Qualit盲t des Werkes ebenfalls nicht dienlich ist. Trotz der beschriebenen Personen stellt sich kein reiches Stadtpanorama ein.
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.
reiseberichte geh枚ren nun wirklich nicht zu meiner lieblingslekt眉re, was wohl auch damit zu tun hat, dass ich selbst lieber im inneren meines kopfes unterwegs bin als diese erdkugel gro脽r盲umig 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 gef盲rbt von den fremden, neuen eindr眉cken.
ganz so hat canetti in diesem 眉bersichtlichen b眉chlein marrakesch geschildert: keine "profunde" analyse dortiger gepflogenheiten und ein versiertes berichten 眉ber fremde kulturen, nein: canetti staunt vor diesem land, bleibt staunend und erhebt sich nicht 眉ber 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 eindr眉cke seines aufenthaltes, die f眉r den "profund" reisenden v枚llig nebens盲chlich erscheinen m枚gen - aber f眉r den "magisch" reisenden alles sind: die abgr眉nde 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.
Una serie di situazioni cupe, di povert脿 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 猫 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 carit脿.
Ci sono immagini molto forti che 猫 tutt'ora difficile riuscire a concepire, cammelli rabbiosi, poveri dall'aura mistica, brutalit脿 colonialista e persone che vivono nella miseria e nell'immobilit脿 fino a scomparire, sempre pi霉 simili al paesaggio in cui vivono.
La cosa che ho apprezzato di pi霉 猫 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 pi霉.