Notifications can be turned off anytime from settings.
Item(s) Added To cart
Qty.
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and try again.
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and try again.
Exchange offer not applicable. New product price is lower than exchange product price
Please check the updated No Cost EMI details on the payment page
Exchange offer is not applicable with this product
Exchange Offer cannot be clubbed with Bajaj Finserv for this product
Product price & seller has been updated as per Bajaj Finserv EMI option
Please apply exchange offer again
Your item has been added to Shortlist.
View AllYour Item has been added to Shopping List
View AllSorry! Not Art is sold out.
You will be notified when this product will be in stock
|
On the Back Cover
I WILL WRITE ABOUT ALL THAT IN MORE DETAIL LATER.
The final sentence of Helping Verbs of the Heart - was it a promise, a threat, a quote? In 1985, when Peter Esterhazy s book came out on unnumbered, black-edged pages, this much-cited sentence seemed most likely to be the manifestation of authorial posturing. After the publication of his books on his father Celestial Harmonies and Revised Edition, this sentence and the preceding book on his mother s death, broken up into auxiliary verbs, now gain new meaning twenty-three years later in Not Art.
Not Art is the book of the reawakened mother, a mother who knows the offside rule, and whose language, which determines her relationship to the world, is the language of football. The son only exists in relation to it, just as everything and everyone else only exists in relation to this mother s football language. Football, in the author s last book a stage and a medium for private historiography, now acts as a worldview, its roots in his relationship to his mother and his mother tongue: a mother s language complex.
Readers seeking family stories will find them - in subtly written, rounded stories. Those looking for emotions will find them too: platonic love, marital love filled with tenderness, and of course love for his mother and father. And those interested in the esterhazyesque auto-reflexive textual world (where does the author begin and end) will not be disappointed either. Irony, beauty, history, the Magnificent Magyars, father, grandmother, aunt, uncle, mother, life and death, especially death, but beautifully written. And life too, of course, which comes before death.
My mother talked her way through the entire sixties and seventies in French. Boy, even comrade sounds bearable in French. She slipped into the French language as if into a bunker. No, a bunker would be more German, concrete protection; language is a lighter form of asylum, if danger were ahead it would provide no protection, a hiding place, a hideout, a wing under which one cannot shelter. Whenever she left French she immediately moved into football. One might say my mother was on the run her whole life long. And one might also say that she was happy her whole life long. "
About the Author
PEter EsterhAzy, a member of one of Europe's most prominent aristocratic families, was born in Budapest in 1950. His books, published mostly in Europe, are considered to be significant contributions to postwar literature.
The images represent actual product though color of the image and product may slightly differ.
Register now to get updates on promotions and
coupons. Or Download App