Insane - Softcover

Goetz, Rainald

 
9781910695319: Insane

Inhaltsangabe

INSANE draws upon Rainald Goetz's clinical psychiatric experience to paint a portrait of the asylum as a 'total institution'. A cult author in Germany, this is Goetz's first novel, and the first to be translated into English.

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rainald Goetz, born in 1954 in Munich, studied History and Medicine in Munich and obtained a doctoral degree in both subjects. He briefly worked as a doctor, but quit this profession for the sake of literature in his early thirties. His first novel, Insane, was published in 1983. In 1998, Goetz wrote the internet diary ‘Rubbish for Everyone’, probably the first literary blog in Germany, with entries on the world of media and consumerism. It was published in book form in 1999 and together with Rave, Jeff Koons, Celebration and Deconspiration belongs to This Morning, his great history of the present. Goetz has been awarded numerous prizes, most notably the Georg Büchner Prize in 2015. He lives in Berlin.

Adrian Nathan West is the author of The Aesthetics of Degradation and translator of such authors as Pere Gimferrer, Juan Benet, Marianne Fritz, and Josef Winkler. His writings appear regularly in the Times Literary Supplement, Los Angeles Review of Books, and Literary Review. He lives in Spain and the United States with the cinema critic Beatriz Leal Riesco.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

I recognized nothing.
Let loose from the madhouse, each day in the evening, I would walk to the tunnels of the U-bahn, not bothering to look around. Had I even caught the scent of spring? Still rattled from the journey, I made my way to my room, and nothing was as it had been before. I stepped oblivious among the beer cans, bottles, newspapers, and bits of clothing on the floor, questing aimlessly. The giant white sheets on the walls, behind the sheets the shelves, on the shelves the books, concealed. Had I read? Had I actually opened a book and heard something other than this pounding, this unbearable pounding in the ears, louder and louder with every phrase? Next to the bed lay the food scraps from the night before. I ate what I could, and fell into a dreamless sleep. I woke, it was already dark, and when I did, the unease was there. Get out of here now, go to the bars, outside. At night when I came back, stumbling and groping, I saw everything sharp and clear. The way the sneaker I kicked off had fallen, landing half on the bread plate. How odd, I thought, and all of the sudden, I came back to myself.
But the next morning there was nothing save that pain in my head and a quiver in my hands, and all around me was blindness, bereft of answers. So I set off on my way, back to the madhouse, far again from everything I’d known, into a constantly proliferating confusion.

After the usual wandering through the streets, back and forth on the sidewalk, pressed against the building walls, shop fronts, glass mirrors, aghast at the herds of people packed together in front of, behind, and around him, the ambush of the gazes, but at the same time commanded to be there among the people, in the midst of this back-and-forth, the 39-year-old programmer Sebastian Köhler crossed the broad stretch at one end of the sidewalk with free and easy steps, skipped forward under the linden trees of the opposing street to building 17, oh trusty façade, and with a bellowed HERE I AM set foot into the imposing edifice of the university psychiatric clinic, ready to hand himself over once more.

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.