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In his book Lichtjahrebeschreibt The literary critic Volker Weidmüller first appearance DerAutorin Terézia Mora: That was 1997 in Berlin-Pankow, where at that time was open-mike-Wettbewerbausgetragen-one of most important reading prizes for young writers. WHO Open Mike once pursued, knows that one needs patience and steady fortune. Back n, 1997, I guess it was no different. The listener, as EsWeidermann describes, are deeply immersed in armchairs or somewhat bored hanging on ir chairs. But when Terézia Mora stepped on stage and spoke ihreersten sentences, something changed in room. The listeners would have sichaufgerichtet, way you set up, if you want to be attentive and nichtsverpassen. The attitude of text also seemed to turn something at attitude of DerVeranstaltungsbesucher. Moras sentences were short, concise, awake and startling.
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This is exactly how it should be when a new voice sounds: that all who are re know immediately that an is a new voice, an independent tone, something unique. Terézia Moragewann – Of course – competition. She also won denIngeborg Bachmann Prize in Klagenfurt with tale of case Ophelia. DerDeutsche Book Award for novel The Monster was awarded her 2013, in January 2018 she was awarded Bremen Literature Prize. And now she is honored with highest award of land, endowed with 50,000 euros, Georg Büchner Prize, which has been awarded since 1951.
Mora’s debut, narrative band SeltsameMaterie, plays in a dictatorship before turn of year 1990. But Eswäre too simply thought, this would only refer to a state regime. The tyranny that primes se stories goes on; It is a network of several authoritarian systems, as author once wrote: Peasant lifestyle, Catholic religious practice and Zugehörigkeitzu of an ethnic, linguistic minority. It is a decaying, zerfaserndes, decomposing milieu in which Mora’s Tales angesiedeltsind. And stories move along outskirts of this Sichauflösenden world, both spatially and temporally. Those who walk at this limit wiees figures of Moras inevitably, who is on guard and knows about DieBrüchigkeit of his life. She learned one thing, Mora once explained, such world absurd and that this is completely normal.
The hero slips from side to side
Terézia Mora was born in 1971 in Sopron, Hungary. Her family belonged to German-speaking minority. “Schonals little Child,” she said about herself, “I have made up my mind not to remain a Taglänger here in this village, as it demands law.” Budapestwar da Still goal, only imaginable place for a youngster from Derungarischen province. In year 1990, Mora moved to Berlin, to a city that she once said: “She did not take me, but I recorded it.” She studied in this bristly city of Hungarian studies and Theatre science, Wenigspäter screenplay at film and Television Academy, began to write and Zuübersetzen – so she made Hungarian among ors Péter EsterházysJahrhundertwerk Harmonia Caelestis or Istvan Örkenis minutes of novellas InsDeutsche.
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In public wahrgenommen she was first 2004 with novel Every day, for which she was awarded prize of Leipzig Book Fair. The main character DiesesRomans, Abel Nema, is “a man with remarkable talents, ten years, ten languages, learned and taught, and also as a private person of some effect”. The special thing about this whimsical hero is his intangibility, erentgleitet one side to side, though not much is learnt about him. As Mora himself, as a 19-year-old, Abel arrives from a small town in east in Einewestliche Metropolis. He arrives and remains a stranger – an experience that seems to supplied by life history of Moras and of many of her gekommenenGenerationsgenossen to Germany. It is a balancing act, Eineschwindelerregende history, and Mora creates it with Verfügungstehenden language – you really have to talk about languages – to understand se swing movements, denLeser to put yourself in a state of limbo. She changes Behändezwischen tonalities and text types back and forth, between precise descriptions of reality and surreal flipping images, y nutztverschiedene voices, constantly changing angle of view, sometimes from Absatzzu paragraph. Every day is a panopticon, a murmur, a deafening Klangwerk.
