Tomas Tranströmer (15 April 1931 to 26 March 2015)
Anyone who reads the late verses of poets, reads loud last words. More than other Tomas Tranströmer has prepared his readers on them. His book “The Great Mystery” of 2005 – narrow as all his books – has become his legacy. In it is November wind, Late Period. The input poem takes a last look from the “Eagle Rock”: “In the depth of the soil slides my soul / silence like a comet.” In this silence Tomas Tranströmer has now entered. Now he has died at the age of 83 years.
His silence had been a long time. Over a decade ago, 1996, Tranströmer suffered a severe stroke that left fearing for his life. All the more amazing how far the poet recovered in the following years. He travels again, it was said among his friends. He was even in China, was heard. In Munster, the poet meeting 2001 in Berlin could meet him. Three years ago he had an appearance at the Lit.Cologne. He played piano again, even if only with his left hand, he could still move. He wrote poems, although the briefest possible. Old and new haiku – a form that he had trained early – stood in his last ribbon. The circle had closed.
The point: the vision
Tomas Tranströmer made his debut in 1954 as a twenty-four year-old with “17 dikter” seventeen poems. His lyrical oeuvre, which grew in over fifty years, fits in a volume of less than three hundred pages. Not a writer so. And yet it has been called his name among the greats in the international poetry. As Tranan – Crane, as he was called by his classmates – 2011 after a long wait, but still received the Nobel Prize in Literature, he was in the ranks of the other award winners actually a rare bird. The poet as an anachronism.
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Tranströmer was a loner who lived before the language’s responsibility. An artist of high caliber who presented us with a world of new images. “The important thing is the vision,” he said himself. And this poetic vision is followed from 1931 to last the man of the vintage. Prior to their exploitation protected him the practice of everyday life: his years of professional work as a psychologist in an institution for the criminally teenagers or as career counselors in employment offices. The poetry benefited from it. About by taking snapshots like this: “Two boys kicking ball at dusk / A swarm of weak echoes.. -. Suddenly starry “
A fantasy that is both free and compulsory
clarity and magic were it not contradictory. The mystery of poetry Tranströmer has to do with his pictures, his metaphors. He has been called the poet of the Swedish New Finder metaphor. In his early poems were so striking pictures of “The newspaper, big dirty butterfly” or “Sweden is a towed ashore abgetakeltes ship”. Peter Szondi believed in such bold compounds of two elements to recognize a “Third”, “for which there is not a word.”
So Tranströmer created a poetic world which remains close to reality and yet not of this world. His poetry is an imaginary space from which a cool but intense light falls on things and people. Lars Gustafsson, a friend and colleague who saw it as a sphere in which the perceptions appear “sensible” than usual. One can understand that it’s not about a merely surreal fantasy, but a fantasy that is both free and compulsory.
His mission: “to be where you are”
This could also carry the burden of time and history Tranströmer poem. Literally, this happens in “The Mourning Gondola” from the nineties. This is not merely one of the finest and boldest Venice poems, but also a great time and profound poem. It alludes to Liszt and Wagner, bringing them the music of his images. However, it is also exploring the historical reason “down to the years of the brown shirts” and opens the view to the nightmares of contemporary reality. “25 Of March. Restlessness for Lithuania. / Dreaming, I visited a large hospital. No personnel. All were patients. “Tranströmer poem renewed the old ship metaphor for our present. It hallucinates not a “drunken boat”, but is a “garbage gondola, paddled by two einruderigen bandits”, nice and shabby, pompous and miserable.
So Tranströmer underwent the dialectic of pure art and commitment. He saw himself as a poet with the self-imposed mission is “to be where you are.” He saw it as a hub in a murmuring crowd. How in Hades the shadows to Odysseus, this amount comes to him to gain language and individuality. But the poet no longer has the ego and one’s own name.
To do that you have lost
In a prose poem of 1970, it is the driver who is tired driving under the trees beside the road to rest. When he wakes up, he has forgotten who he is, “I am something that wakes up in the back seat, in a panic about raging like a pig in a poke. Who? – At last my life returns. My name is like an angel. “
Tranströmer tells us that we must have lost themselves in order to be able to say. “My name is like an angel” The poet took the fight to the name, and the poem alone could win. He was so humble, to consider themselves only as “a T in the infinite mass text”. T as Tomas? T as Tranströmer? Whatever His poetry is full of epiphanies, profane illuminations that make us the existence of poets so precious and their loss so painful
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