Alle Artikel von Irma

Chapter 6: Asmodean: A strange day

Short Story

Chapter 6

She looked at me and sighed: ‘Farewell my heart. You are free now.’ I was too shocked to reply. I did not want to say goodbye or ever be away from her. I was numb and frozen. I could not react or move when she returned to her Throne to slowly take the steps that would lead her back to her seat on top of it. She turned around and sat down.

The sword, still in my hand as if it had been an extension of my arm, started to glow and get hot. It vibrated wildly as some life of its own started to awake. It was torn from my hand and flew high up into the air. It flew towards the throne, which it circled a few times, before arriving in the lap of ‘her’ and coming to rest like a tired man who arrives home after a long journey. She looked at me, her face a mask, no emotion left on it. She lifted her hands into the air one more, yet her eyes remained on mine.

After a few moments roaring thunder resounded across the land. Dark, black clouds drew a curtain of darkness over the sunshine that had warmed us only a few moments before. Lighting flashed in the sky and struck into one of the big oaks on the edge of the meadow. Heavy rain started to fall from those dark clouds and after a few moments the both of us were completely soaked.  My eyes never left hers when the world around me started to crumble and fall apart. I noticed that the rain was getting ever heavier and the winds that had started to blow across the meadow had turned into a wild storm that threatened to blow me away. Thomas grabbed my arm and screamed: „We have to go!! Quick! We have to go!“

The urgency on his face was visible and desperate and that intensity somehow brought me back to reality. I looked into her eyes a last time and turned around, knowing that I would never see her again. Suddenly I could hear her voice in my mind, as if I was wearing headphones and her voice the song that arrives through it.

„In cloudy or stormy skies, from me you can’t hide yourself“, she said, before the experience ceased. Shaken and touched by it, I followed Thomas. He was running back towards the bus I realized. The storm was getting stronger and stronger. We had to stop sometimes to be sure we would avoid lighting that was raging through the forest like a rapist. The storm was so heavy now that running was not possible anymore. We were limping, crawling, and forcing our way through a non-natural storm that would destroy this land like an avalanche would destroy a mountain village. We moved, walked and ran for a long time. If it were only hours I could not say for sure. Eventually we arrived.

We moved inside the bus and forced the doors shut. We fell to the ground, exhaustion and weariness after the long return and escaping the horrible storm had taken its toll on us. Just when I started to think that we would not be safe in this bus for long, I could see white light shining through the windows. It was so bright that it stung our eyes and we had to turn away from it to avoid being blinded. Just when I thought I could not take it anymore, that my eyes would burn from their sockets…..it was gone. Before I was able to open my eyes a rough voice demanded: „Hey! Hey! Get up!“

 I opened my eyes to see Thomas and me still lying on the floor inside the bus that was meant to take us to work. A crowd of worried-looking passengers was standing around us. One older Lady holding a handkerchief to her mouth , while a crying girl asked her mother why the strange men where lying on the ground. The bus-driver looked at me, concern and worry plain on his face: „Are you alright, son?“he inquired

 „I ..aeehmm…yeah, I guess“ was all I managed to say, while Thomas merely grunted and touched his chest to make sure the cuts inflicted on him where truly not there anymore. I slowly got up and looked around at worried faces and the land outside the window. We were back in Galway, the houses right there outside and a few people walking on the streets. I helped Thomas up who gazed around big-eyed, taking in the sudden change of events. I said:

„Yeah, I am alright“, and strangly, I meant it. I felt good despite the fact that I had just gone through what seemed like the most weird experience someone could go through. The crowd slowly dispersed when we moved for the seats. We looked at each other, yet nobody spoke. We were silent while the bus driver returned to his seat, turning his head a few times to inspect the both of us. I looked outside, my mind empty, no thoughts manifesting inside. When we arrived at the final stop we slowly left the bus. The eyes of the crowd that left the bus together with us, still on us as they walked towards their various destinations. When the bus had left we still stood at the bus-stop.

I looked at Thomas and said: ‘ I don’t really feel like working’. He smiled at me and replied: ‘ Me neither’. The sun had been starting to rise, a rare occasion on a winter’s day in Galway. We looked at it, its weak energy not driving the cold away. We started to walk towards it. We did not speak. The experience that we had shared had made words superfluous.

I started to understand slowly while I walked towards that glowing disk in the sky.  To understand what it had meant. Whatever it was, it had changed me. It had driven all fears and doubts out of me and had taught me that this life was meaningless. There was something out there…something I had gotten a glimpse of and this life that I had been living would never be the same again. There was no need to be afraid of anything, to hesitate or question yourself. The sword had merely been a reflection of something that had already been inside of me and its power had been nothing else that a power that had come from inside my heart. When it was taken from me, it was not. It was transferred to some deeper part of my existence. The monsters had been nothing else than all those fears that had held me back, back from what I want to be and had done nothing else but feeding the monsters in my head that strove to hold me back from discovering that strength that had always been there. And it was ‘her’ to show me the way. To show me that I can reach whatever I want, if I only believe in myself and overcome my suspicion about myself and for that I would love her forever. Thomas seemed to have made a similar experience, since he did not look like some fat guy anymore, but like a man with a mission. So we kept on walking towards that sun, starting something new and leaving the old behind. We had found ourselves.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

 THE END

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Chapter 5: Asmodean – A strange day

Short Story

Chapter 5

Suddenly Thomas screamed! I spun around to see him looking frantically across the meadow. Wild howls and screams reverberated across the meadow. The monsters had passed the invisible wall somehow and were storming at us, with big steps and deadly speed. I looked back at her and screamed: ‘Help!!’ She was still standing in the same position. She did not move or flinch, her palms still pointing upwards and her eyes gazed up into the sky.

I turned around to see the beasts coming ever closer. I realized it had to be me, by myself to take action now. She had done her part, she trusted I would do mine. I slowly moved forward and grabbed the hilt of the sword, pulling it slowly out of the ground. As soon as I held it firmly in my hand, a shockwave surged through my body and I fell to my knees, unable to control that wave of energy, screaming in shock and pain. My body convulsed, yet my fingers gripped the hilt ever stronger, my control over them having disappeared. I slowly, but surely started to manage to get a hold of that energy, pure willpower and panic forcing my mind to become the dam that would slow down this river of light and energy and turning it slowly into a gentle river that would water the banks of my personality and make me use this energy like a farmer would use water to grow his crops. I lifted myself up and I was gone.

The person that I had been, the insecure self of mine having disappeared and self-awareness and total level-headedness was as strong in me as a boulder in the sea would allow the waves of the ocean to crush against it and emerge strong and unchanged every time the surge came to rest. And it was more than that, the sword was no strange tool anymore. It had become part of me. It had united with me, like lovers would unite in the moment of climax. I let the sword spin through my hands, its hilt moving as safely and securely through my hands, as a goat would know the pathways through the rocky hills were it was born. Its blade was dancing through the air, like an artist on a stage, its blade whirling wildly. Thomas was studying me, his face full of wonder. My display had obviously dazzled him so much, that even the beasts and their angry roars were no longer in his mind. Yet they were approaching. They were almost upon us. I faced them, no fear in my heart, only determination to deal with them and break the deadly power they thought they had. The first one arrived, its cruel eyes eager to cut me to pieces. Its long arms and vicious claws extended and it came upon me. I used his wild, uncontrolled speed to duck and quickly step sideways just before it could grab me. I extended one leg. The creature tripped over it and crashed to the ground, its arms flailing wildly. Before it could get up, the second one was attacking. I blocked its blow with the sword, ignoring his scream, when its arm was cut off by the shining blade, like a Samurai sword would cut through a tomato. I buried my right foot deeply into its hairy stomach and when it fell to its knees, blood sloshing from its arm, I drove the blade between its neck and shoulder, forcing the sword downwards violently. I removed it, and the beast collapsed like a doll cut from its strings. The first one had come back to its feet and attacked, its anger at experiencing my resistance to its efforts had turned into blind and murderous rage. Its uncontrolled fury was its weakness. I ran towards it and crashed into it with the full force of my left shoulder. Surprise on its face, it fell rearwards and landed on its back.

My shoulder was aching and numb, but I paid no heed to it. I brought the sword down in an arch-like blow and it cut into its large, hairy chest, brushing bones and flesh aside as easily as an unbound river would cut through land. Gurgles and roars of pain came from its mouth as life quickly left its body. It lay still after a few moments, its once so wild eyes staring into nothingness. I spun around when Thomas shrieked in pain as one of the monsters sliced through the skin of his chest with its long knife-like claws. He fell to the ground, his clothes and skin turning red as blood oozed from the open wounds. The beast prepared for the kill as it opened its mouth, willing to consume human flesh. It all happened like in slow-motion. There was no sound, no thinking and, above all, no fear as I looked upwards from the corners of my eyes.

I saw ‘her’, finally having brought her eyes down on the wild mayhem below her. She studied me with interest and intent. A certain type of amusement, mixed with pride, clearly visibly on her handsome face. Before the monster could finish its deadly job, I threw she sword towards it. Its blade turning and spinning wildly through the air, like the wings of a dutch windmill during a heavy storm. My aim was true. The impact was so powerful that the horrible head of the bear-human-ape evaporated in red spray as the shining blade sliced through its skull.

Thomas looked at me, pain, relief and gratitude written on his pale face. I raced toward the sword, lying next to the monster’s carcass. I could not reach it before yet another beast was grabbing my shoulders with powerful strength, drawing blood where its claws cut deeply into flesh. It opened its huge mouth and the stench of its breath was in my nose. Before it could bite my throat, I brought my head forward like a sledgehammer, my forehead coming down on its beast-like nose and the sound of breaking bone filled me with satisfaction. It howled in pain and released my shoulders. I managed to take up the sword and bury the blade in its side. It went through its insides, facing no resistance as it sliced through the soft flesh. The monster released a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the ground. It was dead instantly, almost human disbelief the last expression on its non-human face.

I stood there, looking down on this beast from a horror story while my own breathing was the only sound I was aware of. I slowly lifted my head and looked at ‘her’. She smiled ever so knowingly and acclaim and delight turned her exquisite face into a radiant display of pure beauty. Thomas moaned in pain and I hesitantly took my eyes off her and kneeled down next to him to inspect his injuries. He had taken a nasty blow and the flow of blood was increasing instead of slowing down. I started to seriously worry. He would not survive that, if he did not receive some kind of help.

‘Man, it’s so painful’ he said, while tears of desperation started to form in the corners of his eyes.

‘I won’t let you die, man’, I replied. ’We gonna get you back to the bus. There must be some kind of first aid box or something. Just try to relax, the more you panic the worse it will get’.

I knew that it was almost impossible to get him back. Even if I was able to build some kind of stretcher, it would not be good enough. The beast had inflicted injuries on him that no bandage or ice spray could fix. I turned my head as I heard a slow rumble behind me. I looked at the throne, to see some type of staircase slowly growing out of it, almost as if a human arm would grow out of a body. She slowly took those stops that had come into existence out of nowhere. She glided towards us, her moves so graceful and queen-like that even Thomas seemed to be thrilled by it, despite his wounds. She slowly stood next to Thomas, looking down on him. She lowered herself elegantly to kneel next to him. Her fragile, long fingers slowly touched his chest. His body convulsed as the area around her hands started to glow in bright red, as if embers were falling on dry grass. I did not know what she was doing, yet I trusted her to not hurt him. I knew she would not, so I settled down, to sit cross-legged, next to them, the sword across my legs. Suddenly his mouth opened, and black smoke was rising from it, as if it was a chimney. His back moved upwards until he reached an arch-like position. His legs shaking and trembling while she had her eyes closed and slowly massaged his chest. When it seemed that all of that black smoke had left its body, she slowly took her hands off him and he collapsed, breathing heavily, while sweating hard. I stood up to inspect him and deep inside I had already known what I would find. All the cuts had disappeared. His chest looked as if it had never been touched by anything at all. There were no hair, no creases, no marks, almost as if he had been a new-born baby. She slowly got up as well and turned towards me. She looked deep into my eyes, and I looked back. I fell into those eyes, like a sailorman falling from a ship to be consumed by the darkness of the ocean. I did not try to swim. I allowed myself to be consumed by those dark waters that were her eyes and I clung to those waves as if they could hold me above the surface. She slowly moved her lips towards mine and the softness of her mouth started to lock with my hungry heart. We kissed intensively, passionately and without hesitation. I drank this experience into me like a thirsty man walking the dry land of the Sahara. All thought and all reality left my mind and body. Where I stood and where I was became meaningless. The weirdness of that day, the fact that I was covered with the blood of non-human monsters was just as unimportant as the presence of sunlight in this dark forest.

Suddenly I felt the same what Thomas must have felt. A raw, cleansing energy flooded my body and soul and I was forced to leave the sweet promise of her lips behind me. My head bent backwards as I felt the smoke rising from inside me and leaving my mouth and with it all weariness and injury went as well. When it ceased, I slowly lowered my head and felt like I had just slept for 10 hours in her arms, while she had gently been stroking through my hair. She smiled at me, fully aware of I how I felt. She let go of me and slowly took a step backwards.

—————————————————————————————

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Dark Canopy

Fantasy, , , , , ,

Jennifer Benkau
Verlag: Script 5
Gebundene Ausgabe: 528 Seiten
Erscheinungsdatum: 1. März 2012
ISBN: 978-3-8390-0144-8

Dystopien haben Hochkonjunktur. Schon vor mehreren Jahrzehnten haben Autoren wie Aldous Huxley („Brave New World“, 1932) oder George Orwell („1984“, 1949) mit Romanen, die in einer negativen erfundenen Gesellschaft spielen, Furore gemacht. Heute hat der Hype um die Anti-Utopien, in denen individulle Rechte mit Füßen getreten werden und Krieg und Unterdrückung herrschen, beinahe jedes Jugendzimmer erreicht.

Auch „Dark Canopy“ von Jennifer Benkau nimmt den Leser mit auf eine Reise in die Zukunft, in der die Menschen unterjocht werden und in Angst und Schrecken leben. Die Percents, künstlich geschaffene Soldaten, haben die Weltherrschaft übernommen. Als „Kampfmaschinen“ für den 3. Weltkrieg gezüchtet, sind sie den Menschen körperlich weit überlegen. Doch sie haben einen Feind: Das Sonnenlicht verbrennt ihre Haut. Aus diesem Grund wurde die Welt verdunkelt. Tag ein, Tag aus schleudert eine Maschine Staub in die Atmosphäre und hat der Bevölkerung nicht nur das Licht, sondern auch den Lebensmut genommen. Ein Dasein in Resignation ist „graue Realität“. In dieser Welt wächst die 20-jährige Joy auf. Sie jedoch gehört zu den Wenigen, die sich den Unterdrückern widersetzen und außerhalb der Stadtmauern wohnen. Joy ist als Freiheitskämpfern auf ein Leben im Untergrund geschult. Dennoch fällt auch sie eines Tages den Percents in die Hände und damit ist ihr Schicksal besiegelt. Als Soldatin für die jährlich stattfindende Menschenjagd auserkoren, bleibt ihr nur die Aussicht auf einen grausamen Tod oder bestenfalls eine Zukunft als Gebärmaschine im Zuchtprogramm der Percents … Doch gerade unter den Feinden gibt es jemanden, der dieses Schicksal nicht akzeptieren will und damit sein eigenes besiegelt!

Schon als ich den Plot von Jennifer Benaus Roman gelesen habe, war klar, dass „Dark Canopy“ Potential hat und mir ein nettes Lesewochenende bescheren wird.  „Nett“ ist jedoch weit gefehlt! „Dark Canopy“ hat nicht „nur“ Potential, der Roman hat mich gepackt und nicht mehr losgelassen. Noch immer, während ich dies schreibe, bin ich gefangen von dem Zauber, der Benkaus‘ Dystopie innewohnt. Dieser Zauber wohnt zwischen den Zeilen, zwischen den Figuren, zwischen Joy und Neel.

Er ergibt sich aber in erster Linie daraus, dass „Dark Canopy“ mich überrascht hat. Das Buch folgt nämlich nicht hundertprozentig dem gängigen Muster eines Jugendromans. Zwar bedient sich Benkau auch typischen Erfolgszutaten und hat die Geschichte um eine unmögliche Liebe zwischen Feinden in einer dystopisch geprägten Welt als Fortsetzungsroman angelegt. Dennoch ist „Dark Canopy“ anders: Der Roman ist grausamer, düsterer, spannender und  begnügt sich nicht in typischer Jugendroman-Manier mit dem ersten Kuss und „übermoralisierenden“ Botschaften. Wo Gewalt sonst nur angedeutet wird, liest man von einem „eingetretenen Brustkorb“ auf dem Gehweg, von „blutverklebtem Haar“ und fehlenden „Schädelrückseiten“. Man liest von Trauer und Schmerz, von Menschen die brechen und verzweifeln, von Tränen, Tod und Resignation, von Vergewaltigung, Schuld und Enttäuschung. Man liest aber auch von unverhoffter Freundschaft, von Hoffnung, von Widerstand, Versöhnung und von Liebe. Zu verwechseln ist diese Liebe jedoch nicht mit dem so weit verbreiteten Kitsch. Es ist eine Liebe gewachsen in Zeiten des Krieges, ungewollt, lästig, gefährlich: „Wenn ich eine Wahl hätte, wärst Du mir egal“,  heißt es da, doch gibt es keine Wahl, wenn die Gefühle zuschlagen. Und deshalb „muss man manchmal etwas riskieren, ohne hundertprozentig zu wissen, wie es ausgeht.“

Dass Benkau diese Zeilen aus der Mitte des Buches mehr als nur zufällig gewählt hat, wird gegen Ende von „Dark Canopy“ klar. Die letzten 50 Seiten des Romans ähneln einem Ritt in die Hölle. Noch immer kann ich die Angst riechen, die alles umgibt, noch immer stockt mein Atem, noch immer fliegen die Bilder hastig vor meinem inneren Auge vorbei und noch immer hämmert die Einsicht des Romans in meinem Kopf: „Sie waren alle gleich“, Unterdrückte wie Unterdrücker!

„Dark Canopy“ ist nichts für „schwache Nerven“ und für Leser, die erwarten, dass am Ende alles gut ist. Allen anderen sei der Roman mehr als empfohlen: spitzzüngige Dialoge, die nicht nur einmal zum Schmunzeln bringen, elektrisierende Spannung und eine berührende Liebesgeschichte machen den Reiz von „Dark Canopy“ aus! Die Fortsetzung soll im Frühjahr 2013 erscheinen, doch „Dark Canopy“ lässt sich bestens als Einzelroman lesen.

Für mich bisher die beste Dystopie des Jahres!

Leseprobe von „Dark Canopy“

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (2 votes cast)

Die Sprache der Schatten

Historie, , , , ,

Susanna Goga
Taschenbuch: 448 Seiten
Verlag: Diana Verlag
Erscheinungsdatum: 9. Mai 2011
ISBN: 978-3453354685

Stell Dir vor, Du wachst auf und plötzlich hat sich Dein Leben verändert. Nichts ist mehr wie es war, Du fühlst Dich vollkommen hilflos, die Menschen um Dich sind Dir fremd. Eines ist dagegen sicher, Du kannst nicht weiterleben wie bisher, Dein früheres Leben ist vorbei. Nur weißt Du das noch nicht.

So fulminant beginnt der Prolog des Buches „Die Sprache der Schatten“ von Susanne Goga. Der Leser ist sich bewusst, dass er Anteil nimmt an einer schicksalshaften Wendung im Leben eines Menschen, die Identität dessen bleibt aber verborgen. Trotzdem zieht er bereits erste Schlüsse und ahnt, dass das Hauptmotiv des Romans, die im Klappentext angekündigten Menschen ohne Gesichter, hier seinen Ursprung hat. Damit hat die Autorin eines geschafft, sie hat die Neugier des Lesers geweckt. Ungeduldig flogen auch bei mir die Augen weiter über die Zeilen, was hat es mit diesem Geheimnis nur auf sich?

Das Geheimnis um die gesichtslosen Menschen ist es auch, das die Hauptperson Rika Conrad nicht mehr loslässt. Mehr noch, ihr Drang den rätselhaften Bildern des Berliner Malers Anthonis nachzuspüren, nimmt so ungeahnte Ausmaße an, dass sie ihre Familie und ihr bisheriges Leben aufs Spiel setzt und diese zu zerbrechen droht.

Rika Conrad übernimmt nach dem Tod ihres Mannes zusammen mit ihrem gleichaltrigen Stiefsohn Alexander die Führung einer aufstrebenden Berliner Damenkonfektion. Ihr geschäftliches Engagement ist in dem Berlin der 1880er Jahre für eine Frau noch sehr ungewöhnlich. Dennoch lässt Alexander Rika gewähren, hat er doch ein Auge auf seine Stiefmutter geworfen. Doch nicht nur die Zuneigung Rikas will Alexander erzwingen, auch für seine Schwester Anna hat er bereits die passende Partie im Auge.  Aber Anna liebt einen jungen Juden und das Drama nimmst seinen Lauf…

Bietet das familiäre Plot schon reichlich Sprengstoff, bringt Rikas Interesse für den Maler Anthonis das Fass zum überlaufen. Zu Beginn ist sie fasziniert von seinen Bildern, auf denen kein einziges Gesicht zu erkennen ist. Schnell jedoch bemerkt der Leser die ersten Anzeichen jenseits des künstlerischen Interesses. Rika ist besessen davon zu erfahren, wer Anthonis wirklich ist und welches Leben er führt. Ob ihrer Verliebtheit vergisst sie jedoch Anna, ihren Schützling, der machtlos den strategischen und egoistischen Plänen Alexanders ausgeliefert ist und damit sprichwörtlich ins Verderben rennt.

Susanne Gogas Historienroman „Die Sprache der Schatten“ beginnt verheißungsvoll kann aus meiner Sicht jedoch die anfänglich geschaffenen hohen Erwartungen nicht einhalten. Zwar bleibt der Roman über weite Strecken hin spannend und Goga schafft es das geschäftige Treiben der aufstrebenden Hauptstadt Berlin bildhaft einzufangen. Dennoch habe ich am Ende das Buch mit Enttäuschung weggelegt. Grund dafür ist sicherlich, dass das egoistische Verhalten der Protagonistin Rika entnervend ist. Auch wenn die Welt vor ihren Augen untergeht, zu zählen scheinen nur ihr persönliches Glück und ihre Selbstverwirklichung. Auch Anthonis, eine Figur mit anfänglich großem Potential wirkt zunehmend blass. Dass mit dem Bösewicht Alexander letztlich abgerechnet wird, ist somit nicht voll befriedigend. Rika hat die Sympathie des Lesers gleichermaßen verspielt, da reicht auch kein zu spät gekommenes Schuldeingeständnis. Insgesamt zeigt sich hier also wieder, was man als Vielleser so oft erlebt: Ein sehr gutes Plot ist keine Garantie dafür, dass das Lesevergnügen bis zum Ende anhält.

Dennoch möchte ich betonen, dass mir Susanne Gogas bildreiche Sprache sehr gut gefallen hat. Herzlichen Dank an dieser Stelle außerdem an Lovelybooks und an den Diana-Verlag für das kostenlose Leseexemplar!


VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 4.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Experiment short story

Allgemein, , ,

Das Experiment „short story“ geht in die nächste Runde. Heute haben wir Kapitel 4 der Kurzgeschichte „A strange day“ von Asmodean veröffentlicht. Es erwarten euch noch zwei weitere Kapitel, die zeitnah in unserem Blog erscheinen werden. scriba veröffentlicht zum ersten Mal eine Kurzgeschichte eines jungen, unbekannten Autoren. Wenn auch ihr eure literarischen Versuche bei scriba lesen wollt, dann schreibt uns eine Mail an: info@scriba-ich-schreibe.de

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (2 votes cast)

Chapter 4: Asmodean – A strange day

Allgemein, Short Story,

                                       Chapter 4

For several minutes there was nothing but mere breathing. The run had exhausted us to the level of complete physical weariness. Slowly my breathing came back to a normal level and I managed to slowly lift myself up and look back to the invisible wall. Four of those creatures were banging their ugly fists against an unseen barrier, yet I could not hear or smell them in any way.  They tried to use their claws, legs and teeth to somehow break through, yet it seemed to be a futile effort. Their eyes were focused on us all the while, emitting hate and a non-human evilness, that made my skin crawl.

Thomas had also regained some strength. Fear and confusion, mixed with momentary relief about having escaped death, were the pieces of a complex puzzle on his face. He mumbled slowly, obviously not aware of either my presence, nor anything at all it seemed. Imagine somebody who got out of bed in the morning to walk to the bus, only to find himself looking at some kind of man-ape-bear who is trying to force his way through an invisible wall to kill him. That is what he looked like and describing that is a little hard it seems. I became aware that I had not wasted any thoughts on what this clearing really was. I turned around for the first time, looking at bright blue sky , focused on one single place in a dark forest. Around me, on the edges of a green meadow, were beautiful big trees in full bloom. Centuries-old oaks with strong branches , covered by a canopy of green, healthy leafs. Pine with strong green needles and impressive branches. Flowers covered the green grass I was standing on. They were in all colours and shapes, butterflies circled over them. The sound of birds intermixed with the humming of bees , gathering nectar busily. To wrap it up, it was the kind of summer meadow that teenagers would chose to have sex for the first time on a hot day in mid-July. In the middle of the meadow was some kind of large stone. When I looked closer, it seemed that there was someone sitting on it. I froze, trying to make out whether it was man or woman or a human at all, for that matter. I walked over to Thomas. When I grabbed him by the shoulder he spun around and looked at me wide-eyed, like someone falling out of some kind of trance.

‘Fuck’ , was all he said.

 ‘Look man’ I replied. ‘ I know this is all some kind of fucking nightmare. But listen, we cannot just stand here. There is someone over there and looking at those ugly freaks, won’t make them go away.’

He looked at me foolishly and said ‘Who is over there, what is happening here man?’

 He was obviously still struggling with the absurdness of our situation. I certainly felt the same, but we had to keep on going somehow, so I repeated ‘There is someone over there Thomas. We need to get away from here and find out what or who that is. We are in some kind of weird shit here and maybe we find an answer over there’. He studied me intensively, nodding slowly.

‘yes, we should, ok, let’s do it’.

We made for the centre of the meadow, leaving the monstrosities behind us, their hateful looks piercing into our backs as we set off. The bright sunshine on our faces felt weird after the complete darkness of just a few minutes ago. Weird, but also beautiful, a warming, gentle sunshine…not too intensively that you would sweat, yet sufficient to make you feel completely comfortable and warm. The kind of sunshine you would experience only a few times in a year, the perfect day. It was strange to notice all that, to have those feelings in an absolutely outlandish situation as ours. Yet, I started to, well, yes, I felt good, as if I was on my way to some fantastic thing to happen. Excited, yet relaxed. Full of anticipation, yet calm. Self-confident, yet not arrogant. Aware of my strength, yet humble. What it was like for Thomas, I cannot tell. My senses and eyes were focused on this place in the middle of the meadow. This big stone, no wait, it was no stone. It was some kind of altar. A chair, a throne , yes a throne! We arrived at it and what it actually was, was the most elaborate and fragile construction I had ever seen. It was made of black glass, or something like glass, it was about four metres high and composed of a million of sparkling, little pieces. There was something female to it, yet totally commanding. Something gentle, yet untouchable. Something full of love, yet distant.

All things I am describing where put into my brain and now in my mouth, without actually knowing why. A powerful feeling was surging inside me. I had found a place that was beyond our human comprehension, a place of something wiser, deeper, something above the capability of our human words to be described. My feelings were my mouth. Something as primitive as human speech was not needed in a place like this.

My eyes slowly went upwards to the top of it. And there she was, sitting there and looking at me. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Was she truly a woman? She was a queen, so graceful and strikingly, shiningly, stunningly angelic that this word seems such an underestimation to describe her, that it felt like calling the Taj Mahal merely ‘nice’. Her face was angular, yet not really slim. Her cheeks were a little ample, yet not too full. Her lips were pointed and her lips were red. Her nose had a cute length and seemed perfectly in place, just where it was. Her skin was slightly dark, like a natural tan, as if Mother sun has left its mark on it to claim it for her. Her eyes were of a light brownish colour, to me they seemed like the entrance to a universe, the doorstep to heaven. Her angel-like appearance was framed by dark hair that were slightly curly in places and looked healthy and strong at the same time She was dressed in a beautiful green gown. The upper part was cut in a clinging style, so the shape of her fragile body was easy to imagine as I looked at her. The lower part was wide, like a monks robe, resulting into a strange piece of clothing that I had never seen before. Yet on her, it looked ‘right’, yes, as if her tailor was also her best friend, knowing every twist and turn of her body. She sat on her throne like the master of a realm, used to obedience and submission of others. Yet there was no arrogance of any kind about her.  ‘Loveable’ is the only word that comes to my mouth, again not able to grasp the supernatural power of her. She looked deep into my eyes and into my soul. She seemed to look through all the walls I had built up inside myself to protect that little vulnerable core inside me, that was my true personality.

All these walls were wiped away as her eyes found the true me. When she seemed satisfied with what she saw, she changed her look and smiled at me. She showed no teeth, it was just a light movement of her lips, yet it turned all my doubts about myself to dust. Her smile had been one of those unearthly messages again. It had told me that all the doubts that I have ever had, all my weaknesses and inabilities were meaningless for her. She loved me for what I was and she approved of me. And I loved her too, I pledged my heart to her, totally and completely. Yet it was no selfish love, no demanding love, no jealous love. It was a love that would be fulfilled by the mere presence of her, by knowing that she was aware of me and that she was in agreement with me. I was willing to give my life for her , had she asked me to. There was no doubt about that. When she took her eyes off me, it felt like life itself was slipping out of my hands.

A deep feeling of loss washed over me, and I yearned for her eyes to return. She looked at Thomas now, her eyes studying him intensively. Suddenly there was a look of disappointment on her face. In that moment Thomas fell to his knees and started to cry and whimper. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his face a mask of desperation. Whatever she had seen in him I do not know, yet she seemed displeased for some reason. Nonetheless, her expression changed to that of a forgiving mother. She slowly opened her mouth and for the first time she spoke, her voice like a soft, cooling wind on a hot day in a dry desert: ‘It is good’ she said.

When Thomas heard her voice, a feeling of relief rushed visibly through his face and body and he laughed happily, bowing deeply while doing so. Her eyes returned to me, happiness filling me. She said: ‘It is time, my heart’ her voice a mere whisper which sounded like a butterfly passing by your ear. I did not know what she meant and what I was supposed to do. I felt panic coming up from deep inside me. To disappoint her somehow was a thought almost impossible to bear. She seemed to sense that and she smiled at me gently and reassuringly. I relaxed and she bowed down to take something from the ground in front of her. She opened some kind of metal box and from inside she took a sword. Its blade was white and did not seem to be made of metal or steel at all. It was impossible to say what it was made of , but it was obvious that it was a powerful weapon. Sunlight reflected on its blade when she lifted it high up into the air. Its point looked as if it pierced right into the sun. She stood up and threw the sword high up into the air. The sword spinned and rotated through the blue sky, the reflections of light on its surface created a beautiful arrangement of light and colour. I admired it like a spectator would admire a kite flying through the air. Not for one second did I fear that it might hit me or pose any type of danger to me. She would never hurt me, she loved me and I knew that as much as I knew that my own mother loved me, no matter what. It landed right in front of my feet. About half the length of the blade was buried into the ground and the hilt quivered slightly, before slowly coming to rest. I looked up on her. She gazed at me, consciously and expectant. I stuttered:’ I…what…’, glancing at her like a cow would look at an algebra-equation. ‘It is time my heart’, she breathed,  before she lifted her arms from her sides, palms upwards, and moved her head back slowly.

Fortsetzung folgt

———————————————————————————–

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Die Wildrose

Belletristik, , , , , , , , , , ,

Jennifer Donnelly
Piper Verlag
Taschenbuch: 748 Seiten
Originaltitel: The Wild Rose
Rosentrilogie: Band 3
Erscheinungsdatum: Mai 2012
ISBN: 3492300383

„Vor langer Zeit hatte Willa ihr Bein verloren und gelernt, mit dem Verlust zu leben. Er [Seamie] hatte sein Herz verloren. Zum zweiten Mal nun. Und musste lernen mit dem Verlust zu leben. Ohne sie – ohne die Frau, die seine Seelenverwandte war.“ (S. 313)

Diese drei Zeilen bringen das Leitmotiv bzw. den Plot des Romans “Die Wildrose“ von Jennifer Donnelly auf den Punkt. Zwar ist der knapp 750-Seiten-starke Schmöker in der Tradition eines Familienromans gehalten; das heißt, dass auch der dritte Teil der Rosen- Trilogie unterschiedliche Erzählstränge beinhaltet, in denen das Schicksal bzw. das Leben verschiedener Familienmitglieder weitererzählt wird.

Im Mittelpunkt der „Wildrose“ steht aber die „wahnsinnige und rücksichtslose Liebe“ zwischen den Protagonisten Willa und Seamie. Ich bediene mich an dieser Stelle bewusst eines Zitats, denn besser könnte man diese Liebe nicht beschreiben. „Die Wildrose“ ist aus meiner Sicht keine Liebesgeschichte. Vielmehr beschreibt Donnelly über einen Zeitraum von mehreren Jahren hinweg die zerstörerische und an Besessenheit grenzende Beziehung zwischen Willa und Seamie, eine unheilbare emotionale Bindung, die mit den Worten von Willas Bruder Albie gesprochen nur mit „Wahnsinn“ beschrieben werden kann und durch ihre „Rücksichtslosigkeit“ andere Menschen ins Unglück stürzt.

Willa und Seamie kennen sich bereits seit Kindertagen. Aus einer innigen Freundschaft entsteht zwischen den Heranwachsenden Liebe. Sie teilen nicht nur die Gefühle füreinander, sondern auch ein Lebensgefühl. Denn beide sind Abenteurer und wollen die Welt entdecken. Auf einer gemeinsamen riskanten Bergtour in Afrika verliert Willa jedoch ihr Bein. Für diesen Verlust macht sie ihren Geliebten verantwortlich und beginnt ein neues Leben am Himalaya, um dort in der Einsamkeit Tibets ihre „Wunden zu lecken“. Seamie, inzwischen ein berühmter Polarforscher – war er doch an der ersten erfolgreichen Expedition an den Südpol beteiligt – kann seine große Liebe Willa nicht vergessen. Trotz dieses Wissens heiratet er Jennie, denn an ihrer Seite – so glaubt er –  kann er seine Besessenheit zu Willa zumindest betäuben. Keine guten Voraussetzungen für Jennie, die sich heftig in Seamie verliebt hat. Und wie es nicht anders sein kann, tritt Willa kurz nach der Hochzeit des Paares wieder in Seamies Leben und das Schicksal nimmt seinen tragischen Lauf …

Die Rosentrilogie von Jennifer Donnelly hat besonders unter Frauen eine große Fangemeinschaft in Deutschland. Ich habe die beiden Vorgängerromane nicht gelesen, sondern bin direkt mit dem dritten Teil in die Familiensaga eingestiegen. Die große Stärke des Buches liegt darin, dass man den Roman auch ohne Kenntnis der beiden anderen Bücher gut lesen kann.

Dennoch hat mich „Die Wildrose“ nicht hundertprozentig überzeugt. Zu tragisch, zu konstruiert und auch zu polarisierend empfinde ich die Geschichte um Willa und Seamie.

Zu tragisch deshalb, weil beim Lesen stets ein bitterer Beigeschmack geblieben ist. Zu offensichtlich war für mich von Anfang an, dass diese „Liebesgeschichte“ ihre „Bauernopfer“ fordert: So z.B. die Lückenbüßerin Jennie, die aus meiner Sicht zu sehr zum Statisten degradiert wird.

Zu konstruiert deshalb, weil der Zufall aus meiner Sicht zu oft und zu offensichtlich den Verlauf der Geschichte lenkt. So tritt der Bösewicht Max nicht nur rein zufällig im Himalaya und in London in Erscheinung, sondern trifft Willa letztlich auch in den Wirren des 1. Weltkriegs im fernen Damaskus  wieder – rein zufällig, nur um eines von zahlreichen Beispielen zu nennen.

Zu polarisierend deshalb, weil das Heldentum der Charaktere in „Die Wildrose“ zu ausgeprägt ist. Da haben wir Seamie, den allseits bekannten Polarforscher; Willa, die todesmutige Abenteuerin, die nicht nur allein am Himalaya zurecht kommt, sondern mit nur einem Bein und als „Frau“ (zur Erinnerung: wir bewegen uns Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts) zur Kriegsheldin, Spionin und erfolgreichen Kartografin mutiert. Nebenbei erobert sie die Herzen einer ganzen Riege von Männern – auch der vermeintlichen Feinde. Und nicht zu vergessen Willas Bruder Albie, der Stille und Unscheinbare. Freilich geht das Heldentum auch an diesem Denker nicht vorüber – Im Verborgenen versucht er schon seit Jahren sein Vaterland als Geheimdienstler zu retten …

Trotz meines relativ nüchternen Urteils ist „Die Wildrose“ ein gut zu lesender Roman für diejenigen, die sich nicht an diesen märchenhaften Elementen stören lassen, denn das Buch hat auch auch seine Stärken. Ganz besonders hervorzuheben sind hier die historischen Hintergründe und Figuren, die Donnelly immer wieder gut recherchiert einfließen lässt.

Mein persönliches Highlight ist das Ende des Romans. Donnelly hat mit dem vermeintlichen Bösewicht Max von Brandt alle Register gezogen – und all ihre Leser getäuscht. Dieses unvorhersehbare Ende fand ich bemerkenswert und sehr versöhnlich. Damit hat Donnelly es geschafft die Einteilung in Gut und Böse – schwarz und weiß – selbst zu verwischen und hat ihr persönliches Statement zum sinnlosen Blutvergießen im ersten Weltkrieg gegeben. Respekt für diesen Kniff!

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 4.7/5 (3 votes cast)

Chapter 3: Asmodean – A strange day

Short Story

Chapter 3

I got a glimpse of some kind of light ahead of us, just visible through the thick rows of trees. Whatever it was, I immediately felt how that light would mean safety. How I came to know that was something I was not aware of. It seemed to be more than just light. There was something fair and beautiful radiating from it and the closer we approached, the more I could feel it. It appeared like a powerful wave of love, strength and energy washing over me. It was the same to Thomas, the fear and desperation on his face seemed to have disappeared. He even started to smile, which seemed odd and out of place on a face that looked like an exhausted cheeseburger. But we were not there yet and the things were approaching.

I turned my head to see one of them breaking through the trees, about 100 metres behind us. I almost tripped and fell when I caught sight of this monstrosity. It was tall, like 3 metres at least. It had fur all over its body, like some kind of huge bear. But where the bear has a face with a lot of beauty to it, there was no beauty at all in this thing. Its face had eyes that looked as if they were somehow sunk too deep in their sockets, so its eyeballs seemed to be in a strange position. The nose was like an animal’s snout, whereas the rest of its face looked almost human, where it not for the flashing, long teeth that lined it’s huge mouth. Its ‘hands’ had dark fingers and long claws, and the legs were those of an ape. It did not actually run, but jump from tree to tree wherever possible, running on the ground whenever necessary. Its long claws ripping into the bark of the trunks when it made a jump. Its moves were graceful, quick and deadly.

An entity from another world, where humans could not survive for a single hour. I turned my head and the panic that rushed through my mind and body gave wings to my legs. We kept on pacing towards the light, like sprinters would run towards the finishing line. The sounds of more of those creatures resounded through the night and I was not sure we would make it. I saw that the light came from a clearing inside the forest. Whereas everything around that place seemed to be in total darkness, there was bright daylight in an area the size of a football field. Suddenly I could smell them behind me. Emitting a vile reek, like a toilet full of puke and shit that has not seen any cleaning in a year. It was so disgusting that it even made my stomach churn while I was running for my life.

Suddenly one of them appeared right next to us, its dark eyes focused on us while it leaped from tree to tree. It prepared to strike. Its hungry eyes giving off its desire to kill. Its assault came down on us. Just when I realised we were doomed and a scream was forming on my mouth, we crossed some invisible line. The monstrosity was caught in mid-jump, like a bird hitting a window. It dropped from the air like a stone, hit the ground and screamed in fury and pain. We fell to the ground, panting heavily, and suddenly there was silence…

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4

——————————————————————————————-

Fortsetzung folgt

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

Chapter 2: Asmodean – A strange day

Short Story, , ,

 Chapter 2

It was hard to recognise anything through the window, but there was not much, except for trees, as far as I could tell. The fat guy was pacing up and down the gangway, sometimes stopping and looking outside, than walking the exact same way again, only to find the same view through all the windows he was looking through. I turned to him and said: ‘Hey! We need to get out and see where we are!’ He seemed oblivious to what I was saying, still pacing back and forth, his confusion and fear clearly on his face. I walked over to him and touched his shoulder to get his attention. He turned around as if lightning had struck him and looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. He started to stutter: ‘What’s going on?? What is this?? Where are we??’ Despite my own, hardly oppressed panic, I realised I had to calm him down somehow, if only to help myself. ‘I don’t know man, I don’t know…the bus-driver…’, I turned to look at the driver’s cab again, the memory of the horrible face still clearly in my mind. ‘What about the bus driver?’, he asked meekly, his face a battleground between slowly accepting the circumstances he was facing or becoming completely delirious. ‘There, there…he was….’. I was unable to speak out what I had seen, which did not exactly shift the battle on the fat guy’s face towards acceptance. ‘What’s your name?’, I asked, realizing that I had to keep talking, otherwise we might both go nuts.

 ‘Thomas’.

‘So you are Irish, I figure?’

 ‘Yes, I was born in Dublin, but studying here.’ I suddenly felt a ‘presence’ of something coming from somewhere far away. It seemed as if this something was so strong in evil power and hostility that no living being wanted to be close to it.

 ‘Ok, my name is Asmodean, I am from Amsterdam and I work here. Listen man! We gotta get out of this bus, and quickly. There is something, something coming towards here and this is not good. Don’t tell me how I know that or anything. It’s just a really strong feeling!’

‘Yes, I feel it it too and it’s malicious, he whispered, so silent that the words were a mere breath.

 ’We have to go’

‘Yes man let’s do it, I agreed, goose bumps running down my arms. And with that we made for the door. A few hard kicks got the fittings loose and slowly the door opened. We did not bother to search the bus for anything useful. The feeling of this presence that was coming closer to where we were, was getting ever stronger. I could also start to feel something more than that. He had been right, this entity was malicious and not only that. It was so full of raw viciousness that my body was trembling in fear, while my legs started to run almost by themselves.

We were heading into the woods without even looking where we were. Yet, it was obvious we were in a very deep forest. We had to pass by large trees almost constantly. Whether they were oak, pine or fir, I could not tell. All was dark. We were jumping over branches and stepping on stones and twigs. Thomas was not running any slower than me, fear giving him wings. His fat belly jumped up and down, while he ran besides me and his heavy breathing was the only audible sound to me. We had been running for about ten minutes and just when we started to become slower, of mere exhaustion, not because we felt we should, we started to hear the sounds of metal being bended and squeezed. It sounded like big machines at work on a construction site, only without engines.

The entity had arrived at the bus, that much was clear. Howls started to mix in with the breaking metal and they did not seem to come from one voice only. They were loud and angry, a guttural sound that was as horrible as it was disgusting. It was certainly neither human nor animal to produce those bloodcurdling screams. We were running again, the thought of having to face what was behind us striking terror in our hearts. Trees flashed by as our steps were becoming faster again. We were running for our lives, nothing less than that.

It seemed we made no progress. The sound of breaking metal had stopped a few moments ago. Yet the howls were still there and they became ever more urgent and excited. They were catching up! We both knew it, we felt it. Thomas eyes became ever wider, his breath more heavy by the minute. His large body could not take this pace any longer and I was afraid of what might happen when it would simply refuse to keep going. There was no time to think about that, though. The sounds of these ‘Things’ seemed to get closer by the minute. We would not make it! I could feel it in my heart.

It was a disgusting truth to realise that and fear is not the right word to describe it. Nor would terror, anguish or dread describe it correctly. Coming to accept that one’s life might come to an end in a few minutes is nothing but mind-blowing in the worst of all senses. Just when those thoughts were creeping inside me like nails ripping into flesh and my mind and body was not able to fight off that horrible fear in my heart anymore, in this moment when I was sure that whatever was behind us would just bring an end to me and throw me into oblivion in this moment I saw the light.

Fortsetzung folgt

———————————————————————————————

Chapter 3

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/5 (2 votes cast)