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In north of Romania an apparently kommunistischesMassengrab from fifties is found. Experts of all stripes quickly emerge, doubting dating of burial site. A hermit calls ZumTrauermarsch, Aunt Paulina reads from coffee set, an archaeologist namensPetrus fights against his stomach aches and up to ridicule for daseigene historical picture. This local farce, from many perspectives and inaccurate pictorial language masterfully designed, called itself small fingers and erschienvor a scarce decade. In twelve languages novel was translated (German with Suhrkamp) and fascinated readers and critics everywhere, Ebensoeuphorisch celebrated critique also all owls, next novel of RumänischenAutors – and yet, Filip Florian Commercialises name, which one as in this country Enforced, his books in German-speaking book market are far from number of Lesernerreicht y deserve.
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Born 1973, writer in Berlin. Published this spring novel The Coffee in construction publishing house.
Sunk into this big Ungerechtigkeitsitze I am in Café Legere, in middle of Bucharest car noise, re is suddenly a shining author above me. Handshake, smile, mild voice. “I kommegerade from Swiss writing exile,” says Florian, “after two months DenScheitelpunkt my new book has reached. A kind of Alpine summit, from which DerBlick now falls into back valley of book. ” The only thing missing is that he leans Sichnach back and folds his arms casually behind his head. Why Überraschtmich his writing luck?
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Florian n turns out to be a man who likes to distract himself. He shows me on phone painting of a son, he talks about his friendship with Attila Bartos and gives Mirrumänische reading tips. It takes a long time for us to speak to his current Manuskriptzu, but finally Filip Florian tells of time between world wars and that re is keineGraustufen in Romanian consciousness, only glorification and catastrophism. “MeineHauptfigur is a Romanian officer who enjoys wonderful moments of life, but is n jointly responsible for Odessa massacre.” “You write offender’s perspective?”, I ask immediately. He nods, pulling his forehead unfolding. What am I supposed to do, it means that it was Romanian troops who killed October 1941 to 40,000 Jews. and are not exactly in souastern Europe too many war crimes unacknowledged around? I have to take DochVerantwortung for picture that Romania has in future.
“You think more in generations, don’t you?”
I read all of this from his forehead wrinkles, and it’s time we left café casual. Florian smokes a selbstgedrehtenZigarillo, we still walk over to university Square, where he experienced Revolution Alsjunger journalist. So much can be found in this place, he says, power, illusions, violence, it would probably need a furr discussion. Filip Florian’s voice is getting milder and quieter, and dannverschwindet her memories between passers-by.
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On following day I travel to Braşov, which reveals German roots in cityscape back which swept, a community room here, a tavern called Stubedort. The Unidozent Adrian Lacatusheißt welcome me, also following interlocutors seem very binding in ir hospitality, which I am accustomed to from my travels on sourn Balkannicht. Lacatus introduces me to pitfalls of RumänischenLiteraturgeschichtsschreibung: “You think more in generations, don’t you? Inromania is counted in a small part, where all authors of a Dekadezu are ranked. The decisive factor is when your first book will appear. ” He calls it generous einhomogenisierendes remnants from socialist times.
The young Poets and poets, which I amAbend in pub Tipografiatreffe, are refore all 2010. Some of m will be present in Anthologienauf of Leipzig Book Fair. Poets are well networked in every European countries, unlike prose writers y do not secretly protect projects that have been kept for many years. And n you just have less to lose because you deserve even less of your art. What is first noticeable in Braşov: DIESEKÖPFE are connected to fastest network connection in Europe. Incessantly, film quotes about beer goblets are being asked for series, and with JederBlöße, which I give myself, RobertG sack. And Vlad Dragoi’s deep-down toger, as if y despaired at me, in all elderly, alsobe a little bit about ir codex of Oversaturation. In end we share Aberimmerhin pub, and that is not to be despised.
