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Product Description
Product Description
For a number of years until his death in 2001, W. G. Sebald and the German artist Jan Peter Tripp exchanged poems and lithographs. Unrecounted is the result of this long artistic friendship - a creative dialogue inspired by shared concerns. Sebald's words and Tripp's images speak of moments salvaged from time passing, of our eyes bearing witness, and of memory and remembrance.
About the Author
W. G. Sebald was born in Germany in 1944 and died in 2001. He is the author of The Emigrants, The Rings of Saturn, Vertigo, Austerlitz, After Nature, On the Natural History of Destruction and Campo Santo. Jan Peter Tripp was born in 1945 and lives and works in Alsace.
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
3 of 4 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
This relatively unknown work of Sebald's consists of 33 poems by him, juxtaposed with 33 images- close ups of people's eyes- provided by the artist Jan Peter Tripp.
Consequently, while it might not have a wide appeal, nevertheless you will still find much to admire and enjoy here if certain qualities in Sebald's writing strike a chord with you, namely the meditative and reflective side to his work.
Although the poems are not haiku, they share with good haiku the ability to evoke a scene or a clear image which on the one hand works on its own terms, while on the other manages to hint at far wider and deeper significance. The poems are short and compressed, and the best of them really work well, as in this example: "They say/ that Napoleon was colour-blind/ and blood for him/ as green as/ grass." In the best pieces, the juxtaposition of images of eyes and the poems really does work.
Consequently, while it might not have a wide appeal, nevertheless you will still find much to admire and enjoy here if certain qualities in Sebald's writing strike a chord with you, namely the meditative and reflective side to his work.
Although the poems are not haiku, they share with good haiku the ability to evoke a scene or a clear image which on the one hand works on its own terms, while on the other manages to hint at far wider and deeper significance. The poems are short and compressed, and the best of them really work well, as in this example: "They say/ that Napoleon was colour-blind/ and blood for him/ as green as/ grass." In the best pieces, the juxtaposition of images of eyes and the poems really does work.
Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase
Some books let you in from the turning of the title page, others leave you as though on the doorstep, a foot in the door, not sure of welcome, you're going to have to earn your entrance. Unrecounted is definitely one of the latter, you'll peruse the images and accompanying poems, eyes gliding off the eyes on the page to the words and back again, making connections, trying to find routes into its dialogue but this is ideolectic, the patterns here are those of an individual, there probably are reference points, but like all reference points, they act as signposts to something - not the thing itself.
Most of the poems are around the 20 word mark or less and although they do not have a direct relationship to the pictures, act as a dialogue between the two, with some offering a possible greater clarity to us as onlookers than others
Most of the poems are around the 20 word mark or less and although they do not have a direct relationship to the pictures, act as a dialogue between the two, with some offering a possible greater clarity to us as onlookers than others
Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)
Amazon.com:
4 reviews
15 of 15 people found the following review helpful
WG Sebald in the Guise of a Poet
15 Sep 2005
Format:Hardcover
UNRECOUNTED is a collaborative work by the deceased and sorely missed WG Sebald and his life long artist friend Jan Peter Tripp. Together they blocked 33 poems and 33 lithographs on apposing pages that were meant to create a sense of communication. In Sebald's words "The longer I look at the pictures of Jan Peter Tripp, the better I understand that behind the illusions of the surface, a dread-inspiring depth is concealed. It is the metaphysical lining of reality, so to speak."
As a devoted reader of all of Sebald's output I was eagerly looking forward to yet another posthumous document from this astonishingly fine writer. What is in this handsome volume is not really 'poetry' but rather brief haiku-like musings. Not that they aren't lovely, it is just that they are not up to the challenging standards of his novels. Still one is left with a satisfied feeling having read this (sideways printed) book of thoughts. The art of Tripp is stunning - eyes of famous writers and thinkers. In the end, in Sebald's own critical self examination, these works are "time lost, the pain of remembering, and the figure of death". As such, they gain more meaning. Grady Harp, September 05
As a devoted reader of all of Sebald's output I was eagerly looking forward to yet another posthumous document from this astonishingly fine writer. What is in this handsome volume is not really 'poetry' but rather brief haiku-like musings. Not that they aren't lovely, it is just that they are not up to the challenging standards of his novels. Still one is left with a satisfied feeling having read this (sideways printed) book of thoughts. The art of Tripp is stunning - eyes of famous writers and thinkers. In the end, in Sebald's own critical self examination, these works are "time lost, the pain of remembering, and the figure of death". As such, they gain more meaning. Grady Harp, September 05
22 of 27 people found the following review helpful
Like an unknown trunk with a stranger's garments in it
2 Jun 2005
Format:Hardcover
My first thought was that Sebald (1944-2001) might have been a great novelist but he wasn't too good as a poet. And my second thought was that the good people at New Directions are really milking his posthumous fame to try to sell this puzzling "keepsake," as they call it, for $22.95, when it is so manifestly inferior to his other books. But luckily I kept the book on top of my desk for awhile and presently found myself returning to it again and again, trying to puzzle out what made it different than other books of poetry I had read. These "micropoems," as the translator calls them, do creep under your skin.
Here's one:
The house
in the night
through the windows
the flickering light of
flames
That's it! As New Directions lays them out, these lines are all centered a la Michael McClure (it's hard to tell if Sebald planned this effect.) By the way the translator (Michael Hamburger) must be British and I wonder what a good US translator could have done with the German of these poems which the editor has supplied as an appendix for our eluctation at the back of the book. They are so short you could copy them all out on your lunch hour, but they gain weight and resonance by their placement next to the lithographs that inspired them-33 portraits by Sebald's best friend Jan-Peter Tripp) of people's eyes. (A lot of the poetry is about questions of seeing, perception, realization, etc) I thought I recognized some of the faces and I was right in one case only. The eyes are mostly those of famous artists (Francis Bacon, rembrandt, Jasper Johns, Barnett Newman) and writers (Capote, Borges, Burroughs) and some of the juxtapositions attain a transparency as luminous as ice water. But you don't find out whose eyes they are until the end, so the volume has the aspect of a parlor game to it. By the way, check out page 74. It says those are the eyes of Proust, but they look like Rex Harrison to me!
So you're reading these haiku and puzzling over whose eyes are whose and before you know it, you are swept away into the land of the Unerzahlt for the ride of a lifetime.
Here's one:
The house
in the night
through the windows
the flickering light of
flames
That's it! As New Directions lays them out, these lines are all centered a la Michael McClure (it's hard to tell if Sebald planned this effect.) By the way the translator (Michael Hamburger) must be British and I wonder what a good US translator could have done with the German of these poems which the editor has supplied as an appendix for our eluctation at the back of the book. They are so short you could copy them all out on your lunch hour, but they gain weight and resonance by their placement next to the lithographs that inspired them-33 portraits by Sebald's best friend Jan-Peter Tripp) of people's eyes. (A lot of the poetry is about questions of seeing, perception, realization, etc) I thought I recognized some of the faces and I was right in one case only. The eyes are mostly those of famous artists (Francis Bacon, rembrandt, Jasper Johns, Barnett Newman) and writers (Capote, Borges, Burroughs) and some of the juxtapositions attain a transparency as luminous as ice water. But you don't find out whose eyes they are until the end, so the volume has the aspect of a parlor game to it. By the way, check out page 74. It says those are the eyes of Proust, but they look like Rex Harrison to me!
So you're reading these haiku and puzzling over whose eyes are whose and before you know it, you are swept away into the land of the Unerzahlt for the ride of a lifetime.
Unrecounted by W. G. Sebald
3 Mar 2012
Format:Paperback
Some books let you in from the turning of the title page, others leave you as though on the doorstep, a foot in the door, not sure of welcome, you're going to have to earn your entrance. Unrecounted is definitely one of the latter, you'll peruse the images and accompanying poems, eyes gliding off the eyes on the page to the words and back again, making connections, trying to find routes into its dialogue but this is ideolectic, the patterns here are those of an individual, there probably are reference points, but like all reference points, they act as signposts to something - not the thing itself.
Most of the poems are around the 20 word mark or less and although they do not have a direct relationship to the pictures, act as a dialogue between the two, with some offering a possible greater clarity to us as onlookers than others
Most of the poems are around the 20 word mark or less and although they do not have a direct relationship to the pictures, act as a dialogue between the two, with some offering a possible greater clarity to us as onlookers than others
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