The Art of Tetman Callis

Some of the stories and poems may be inappropriate for persons under 16

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Entries Tagged as 'Bruno Schulz'

To sleep, perchance

August 22nd, 2011 · No Comments

“Above the autumnal opacity of the park the night is flushed by a vague reddish glow.  In the ravaged upholstery of the treetops crows wake with caws of mindless alarm and, deceived by the false dawn, take off in noisy squads; their yawping, reeling disarray throws tumult and vibrations into the murky redness tartly redolent […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

Abscission

August 21st, 2011 · 2 Comments

“Autumn is the human soul’s yearning for matter, essence, boundary.  When for unexplored reasons human metaphors, projects, dreams begin to hanker for realization, the time of autumn is at hand.  Those phantoms that, formerly spread out over the furthest reaches of the human cosmos, lent its high vaults the colors of their spectra now return […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

Enchanted

August 12th, 2011 · No Comments

“We played host to mysterious distinguished strangers and lost ourselves in conjectures in our desire to penetrate their disguises.  In the evenings everyone gathered in the great hall, where, by flickering candlelight, we listened to one tale or revelation after another.  There were times when the plot spun through these stories jumped out of the […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

Give life an inch, it’ll take a whole planet

August 11th, 2011 · No Comments

“The town lives under the sign of the Weed, of wild, avid, fanatical plant life bursting out in cheap, coarse greenery–toxic, rank, parasitic.  That greenery grows under the sun’s conjury, the maws of the leaves suck in seething chlorophyll; armies of nettles, rampant, voracious, devour the flower plantings, break into the gardens, spread over the […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

Narcissoid void

August 8th, 2011 · No Comments

“What do I look like?  Sometimes I see myself in the mirror.  A strange, ridiculous, and painful thing!  I am ashamed to admit it: I never look at myself full face.  Somewhat deeper, somewhat farther away I stand inside the mirror a little off center, slightly in profile, thoughtful and glancing sideways.  Our looks have […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

It’s still summer here, but soon…

August 1st, 2011 · 2 Comments

“At last came the season of autumnal winds.  On its first day, early in the morning, the sky became yellow and modeled itself against that background in dirty gray lines of imaginary landscapes, of great misty wastes, receding in an eastward direction into a perspective of diminishing hills and folds, more numerous as they became […]

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It rained here early this morning

July 29th, 2011 · No Comments

“Girls and young women return from the market.  Some have serious and regular eyebrows and walk looking sternly from under them, slim and glum–angels with basketfuls of vegetables and meat.  Sometimes they stop in front of shops and look at their reflections in the shop window.  Then they walk away turning their heads, casting a […]

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Felis nocturnis

July 28th, 2011 · 3 Comments

“Everyone is stuck within himself, within the day to which he wakes up, the hour which belongs to him, or the moment.  Somewhere in the semidarkness of a kitchen coffee is brewing, the cook is not there, the dirty glare of a flame dances on the floor.  Time deceived by silence flows backward for a […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

At the sound of the chime, it will be now

July 27th, 2011 · No Comments

“We all know that time, this undisciplined element, holds itself within bounds but precariously, thanks to unceasing cultivation, meticulous care, and a continuous regulation and correction of its excesses.  Free of this vigilance, it immediately begins to do tricks, run wild, play irresponsible practical jokes, and indulge in crazy clowning.” – Bruno Schulz, Sanatorium Under the […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Lit & Crit

Bearing witness

July 21st, 2011 · 6 Comments

“Suffering that is limitless, suffering that is stubbornly enclosed within the circle of its own mania, suffering to the point of distraction, of self-mutilation, becomes in the end unbearable for the helpless witnesses of misfortune.” – Bruno Schulz, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (trans. Wieniewska) Share this…FacebookPinterestTwitterLinkedinemailPrint

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Falling

July 20th, 2011 · No Comments

“Autumn is a great touring show, poetically deceptive, an enormous purple-skinned onion disclosing ever new panoramas under each of its skins.  No center can ever be reached.  Behind each wing that is moved and stored away new and radiant scenes open up, true and alive for a moment, until you realize that they are made […]

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Reveille

July 17th, 2011 · No Comments

“Who knows the length of time when night lowers the curtain on what is happening in its depth?  That short interval is enough, however, to shift the scenery, to liquidate the great enterprise of the night and all its dark fantastic pomp.  You wake up frightened, with the feeling of having overslept, and you see […]

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Aestivus estivus recidivus

July 15th, 2011 · No Comments

“A night in July!  The secret fluid of dusk, the living, watchful, and mobile matter of darkness, ceaselessly shaping something out of chaos and immediately rejecting every shape.  Black timber out of which caves, vaults, nooks, and niches along the path of a sleepy wanderer are constructed.  Like an insistent talker, the night accompanies a […]

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Aestivus estivus

July 13th, 2011 · 4 Comments

“A night in July!  What can be likened to it?  How can one describe it?  Shall I compare it to the core of an enormous black rose, covering us with the dreams of hundreds of velvety petals?  The night winds blow open its fluffy center, and in its scented depth we can see the stars […]

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Shooting stars

July 11th, 2011 · No Comments

“Ordinary books are like meteors.  Each of them has only one moment, a moment when it soars screaming like the phoenix, all its pages aflame.  For that single moment we love them ever after, although they soon turn to ashes.  With bitter resignation we sometimes wander late at night through the extinct pages that tell […]

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The font of authenticity

July 10th, 2011 · No Comments

“The exegetes of The Book maintain that all books aim at being authentic.  That they live only a borrowed life, which at the moment of inspiration returns to its ancient source.” – Bruno Schulz, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (trans. Wieniewska) Share this…FacebookPinterestTwitterLinkedinemailPrint

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Serious

July 8th, 2011 · No Comments

“The Book is a myth in which we believe when we are young, but which we cease to take seriously as we get older.” – Bruno Schulz, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (trans. Wieniewska) Share this…FacebookPinterestTwitterLinkedinemailPrint

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Potemkin slept here

July 6th, 2011 · No Comments

“Reality is as thin as paper and betrays with all its cracks its imitative character.” — Bruno Schulz, The Street of Crocodiles (trans. Wieniewska) Share this…FacebookPinterestTwitterLinkedinemailPrint

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Animals!

June 27th, 2011 · No Comments

“Animals! the object of insatiable interest, examples of the riddle of life, created, as it were, to reveal the human being to man himself, displaying his richness and complexity in a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities, each of them brought to some curious end, to some characteristic exuberance.” — Bruno Schulz, The Street of Crocodiles (trans. Wieniewska) […]

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No disrespect intended

June 27th, 2011 · No Comments

“If, forgetting the respect due to the Creator, I were to attempt a criticism of creation, I would say, ‘Less matter, more form!’  Ah, what relief it would be for the world to lose some of its contents.” — Bruno Schulz, The Street of Crocodiles (trans. Wieniewska) Share this…FacebookPinterestTwitterLinkedinemailPrint

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One size fits all

June 21st, 2011 · No Comments

“Our lives, the big and magnificent lives we can just barely make out beneath the mere facts of our lifestyles, are always trying to occur.  But save for a few rare occasions–falling in love, the birth of a child, the death of a parent, a revelatory moment in nature–they don’t occur; the big magnificence is […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Jonathan Safran Foer · Lit & Crit

Where we are and what we do

June 20th, 2011 · No Comments

“We live on the surface of our planet.  Human life happens on a shell as thin, relative to the size of the earth, as an egg’s, or as thin as the paint on a wall.  We have lifestyles on the surfaces of our lives: habits and culture, clothes, modes of transit, calendars, papers in wallets, […]

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Tags: Bruno Schulz · Jonathan Safran Foer · Lit & Crit