Five Weeks at Humanitas. Manfred Jurgensen
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ALSO BY MANFRED JURGENSEN
IN ENGLISH
NOVELS
The Trembling Bridge
The Eyes of the Tiger
The American Brother
Under the Skin
ANTHOLOGIES
Penguin Australian Writing Now
(with Robert Adamson)
Earth Wings
POETRY
signs & voices
a winter’s journey
a kind of dying
south africa transit
the skin trade
waiting for cancer
Selected Poems 1972-1985
(edited by Dimitris Tsaloumas)
The Partiality of Harbours
My Operas Can’t Swim
Shadow of Utopia
midnight sun
carnal knowledge
A Brisbane Kind of Love
IN GERMAN
The Fictional I
My Yesterday
Love and Other Legends
The Most Wonderful Thing in the World
Published by Hybrid Publishers
Melbourne Victoria Australia
© Manfred Jurgensen
This publication is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests and enquiries concerning reproduction should be addressed to the Publisher, Hybrid Publishers,
PO Box 52, Ormond 3204.
First published 2010
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Jurgensen, Manfred, 1940-
Five weeks at Humanitas / Manfred Jurgensen.
9781921665028 (hbk.)
Jurgensen, Manfred, 1940- Humanitas (Sanatorium) Hitler Youth.
Mentally ill—Rehabilitation. World War, 1939-1945—
Germany-Flensburg.
A823.3
Digital Distribution: Ebook Alchemy
ISBN: 9781742980515 (Epub)
Cover design by the Modern Art Production Group
Contents
I am a Book
Dear Reader
Eggshells
One
Two
Three
Four
Lions and Nightingales
Five
Fireworks
Six
A Singular Kind of Love
Seven
‘Hitler’s Children’
Eight
Nine
Surviving the Snake Pit
Ten
The Age of Travelling
Eleven
Buzzing Drones or The Colour of Speech
Twelve
Appendix
Thirteen
Acknowledgments
In memoriam Max Frisch (1911-91)
Everything can be told,
but not the true story of one’s life.
Max Frisch
Artists sometimes sense they must
revise their work where they love
Rainer Maria Rilke
Our doubt is our passion and
our passion is our task.
The rest is the madness of art.
Henry James
Why do we tell stories
so brazenly about ourselves?
…
I am preparing
myself for some arcanum
in my own story.
Vincent Buckley
I am a Book
I am not the one who’s crazy!
Philip Roth, My Life as a Man
A Harvard professor kept badgering
Dylan Thomas about the meaning of symbols.
‘Mr Thomas, on line three you say …’
Thomas finally exploded:
‘Don’t you appreciate that to me
it’s not a symbol, it’s real?’
Dear Reader
The following autobiography is not written by a so-called celebrity, nor is it the record of a person remarkable in any other way. Its narrative is not so much about the individual as an attempt to recapture the events of a curious and comic, remarkable and extraordinary life. Both story and protagonist of this book, then, is life, being, existence. Strictly speaking, the text should not therefore be called an autobiography. Perhaps the term could be replaced with something like ‘auto-fiction’ or ‘bio-novel’. However, unfortunately we habitually perceive fiction as the opposite of reality. What is real cannot be fictional, least of all fictitious. My aim is not to fictionalise the author’s biography but to reveal the fiction of life itself.
Many distinguished writers have made pertinent statements about the nature of biographies, none more perceptive, I think, than Jose Ortega y Gasset when he says: ‘Biography is a system in which the contradictions of a human life are unified’. Yet I would go one step further and claim that life creates its own ‘biographical’ fiction. At its most spectacular we’ve adopted the habit of calling it ‘coincidence’. The coexistence of events is not necessarily accidental. It may well be shaped by life forces the way artists are driven to formal