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Review
Mordantly funny (Cj Schüler Independent on Sunday )
Bernhard is one of the masters of contemporary European fiction (George Steiner )
This [series] is a wonderful idea ... They are absurdist parables, by turns hilarious, unsettling and enigmatic. (Nicholas Lezard Guardian )
[The series] sheds remarkable light on the literature, culture and politics of the region...anyone coming fresh to the field will be captivated by the richness, variety, humour and pathos of a classic literature that, through a shared historical experience, transcends national and linguistic boundaries. (Cj Schüler Independent on Sunday )
I urge you to go and read them. (Adam Thirlwell New Statesman )
This new series of Central European Classics is important well beyond simply providing 'good reads'. (Stephen Vizinczey Daily Telegraph )
Bernhard is one of the masters of contemporary European fiction (George Steiner )
This [series] is a wonderful idea ... They are absurdist parables, by turns hilarious, unsettling and enigmatic. (Nicholas Lezard Guardian )
[The series] sheds remarkable light on the literature, culture and politics of the region...anyone coming fresh to the field will be captivated by the richness, variety, humour and pathos of a classic literature that, through a shared historical experience, transcends national and linguistic boundaries. (Cj Schüler Independent on Sunday )
I urge you to go and read them. (Adam Thirlwell New Statesman )
This new series of Central European Classics is important well beyond simply providing 'good reads'. (Stephen Vizinczey Daily Telegraph )
Product Description
Old Masters (1985) is Thomas Bernhard's devilishly funny story about the friendship between two old men. For over thirty years Reger, a music critic, has sat on the same bench in front of a Tintoretto painting in a Viennese museum, thinking and railing against contemporary society, his fellow men, artists, the weather, even the state of public lavatories. His friend Atzbacher has been summoned to meet him, and through his eyes we learn more about Reger - the tragic death of his wife, his thoughts of suicide and, eventually, the true purpose of their appointment. At once pessimistic and exuberant, rancorous and hilarious, Old Masters is a richly satirical portrait of culture, genius, nationhood, class, the value of art and the pretensions of humanity.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Format:Paperback
'A Common Reader's' review (below) is perfectly adequate and acceptable - and most readers would probably agree with the gist of what he says. 'A Common Reader' doesn't, however, mention other characters in the book such as, say, Reger's (deceased) wife; and while the vulgar scribe might insist that Reger's wife is only referred to by Reger himself, it is no less true that Reger's remarks are themselves only related by Atzbacher who (with the possible exception of the penultimate few lines in the book) narrates the whole text. It is this distancing technique that makes Reger's tirade against Austrian culture at least capable of being enjoyed as an entertainment, but also of being entertained as a serious assault. Reger DOES pointedly admire Webern, for instance, or Kokoschka. He even laments his own tendency (possibly induced by the culture he disdains) to over-analyse and destroy the things that give him pleasure... although the implication of the drole last line (as devastatingly weak as any punch-line to a shaggy-dog story) pointedly indicates Bernhard's sympathy with the musicologist's contempt. Bernhard is an acquired taste. I have my own (probably inane) theory that his repetitive style, with its constant reassuring refrains, is based on techniques used by hypnotists. It is at least an individual, identifiably modern treatment. Even if the reader choses to believe Bernhard is NOT serious when he dismisses 'icons' such as Haydn or Goya we are at least called on to kick the settling lid off their coffins (20 years after the book's publication we remain more given to celebrate Beyonce than Beethoven). Bernhard is gently but remorselessly serious. He's not a barrel of laughs but he's not po-faced either. He's gently but remorselessly serious. And yes, I meant to repeat that.
4 of 12 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
An 82 year old man, the musicologist Reger, sits on a settee in the Bordone Room of the Viennese Kunsthistoirisches Museum, contemplating Tintoretto's painting, The White Bearded Man - as he has done for four or five hours every second day for the last 30 years. While doing this he rails against society, art, his fellow men, the state of Vienna, even the condition of the cities public lavatories. His thoughts are communicated to the reader by his friend Atzbacher, who seems in awe of the great musicologist and shares his dismal world view. The only other character in the book is the gallery steward Irrsigler, who has assisted Reger over the last 30 years by making sure that no-one else sits on the settee when Reger is due one of his visits.
Reger has so many chips on his shoulders it is almost impossible to count them. No artist escapes Reger's diatribes, nor philosopher, nor musician. It is the sheer quantity and intensity of Reger's fulminations which makes them sometimes amusing. It takes a rare soul to feel that the world and its occupants are this bad. To have reached a stage where you hold everything and everyone in contempt, exceeds descriptive terms like jaded and world weary - Reger is so limited in his outlook and so embittered that death seems to be the only solution, and yet he seems unable to do anything other than wait for that final event rather than doing anything to precipitate it.
My problem with the book is that it might have made a good short story, among a collection of others, but on its own, it is just too long. The book is not broken into chapters, perhaps demonstrating the unstoppable flow of Reger's bitter ramblings, but Bernhard has not even given us paragraph breaks. The means that when you put the book down, you just have to jump right into roughly where you left it, but this really makes little difference because the sentences are all much the same anyway.
Indeed, the only point of such a book would be humour, but the occasional flashes of irony or sarcasm are sunk beneath the seemingly endless pages of bitter criticism. Hell must be like this - a place where no light penetrates, and old men lament the pointlessness of existence for all eternity. It would take a resilient spirit to be able to read it and not be pleased when it finishes.
Reger has so many chips on his shoulders it is almost impossible to count them. No artist escapes Reger's diatribes, nor philosopher, nor musician. It is the sheer quantity and intensity of Reger's fulminations which makes them sometimes amusing. It takes a rare soul to feel that the world and its occupants are this bad. To have reached a stage where you hold everything and everyone in contempt, exceeds descriptive terms like jaded and world weary - Reger is so limited in his outlook and so embittered that death seems to be the only solution, and yet he seems unable to do anything other than wait for that final event rather than doing anything to precipitate it.
My problem with the book is that it might have made a good short story, among a collection of others, but on its own, it is just too long. The book is not broken into chapters, perhaps demonstrating the unstoppable flow of Reger's bitter ramblings, but Bernhard has not even given us paragraph breaks. The means that when you put the book down, you just have to jump right into roughly where you left it, but this really makes little difference because the sentences are all much the same anyway.
Indeed, the only point of such a book would be humour, but the occasional flashes of irony or sarcasm are sunk beneath the seemingly endless pages of bitter criticism. Hell must be like this - a place where no light penetrates, and old men lament the pointlessness of existence for all eternity. It would take a resilient spirit to be able to read it and not be pleased when it finishes.
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