By Fosse, Jon; Searls, Damion
In her outdated apartment by means of the fjord, Signe lies on a bench and sees a imaginative and prescient of herself as she used to be greater than 20 years past: status by means of the window anticipating her husband Asle, on that bad past due November day whilst he took his rowboat out onto the water and not again. Her stories widen out to incorporate their complete existence jointly, and past: the bonds of kinfolk and the battles with implacable nature stretching again over 5 generations, to Asle's great-great-grandmother Aliss. In Jon Fosse's brilliant, hallucinatory prose, these types of moments in time inhabit an identical house, and the ghosts of the prior collide with those that nonetheless continue to exist. "Aliss on the hearth" is a visionary masterpiece, a haunting exploration of affection and loss that ranks one of the maximum meditations on marriage and human destiny
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Extra resources for Aliss at the fire
And now she mustn’t think what she has thought so many times before, that she might just as well do that as do anything else, she thinks, instead she stays standing and she looks at a place in the middle of the fjord and then she loses herself in looking out at that place and she sees, lying there on the bench, herself standing there in front of the window and he too, she thinks, he too stood there so many times, just like she now sees herself standing there, he too stood there like that in front of the window, like she now sees herself standing, before he disappeared and stayed gone, gone forever, he often stood like that and looked and looked, and the darkness outside the window was black and he was almost impossible to tell apart from the darkness out there, or else the darkness out there was almost impossible to tell apart from him, that’s how she remembers him, that’s how it was, that’s how he stood, and then he said something about how he wanted to go out on the water for a little while, she thinks, but she never, or almost never, went with him, the fjord was not for her, she thinks, and maybe she should have gone with him more often?
And Aliss stands there, moving the stick with the sheep head on it back and forth in the flames. That is Aliss. That’s Aliss at the fire, he thinks and he sees Aliss standing there with her thick black hair, on her short legs, with her narrow hips. It’s Aliss. She was my great-grandfather’s mother, Kristoffer’s mother, Kristoffer whose sons were Grandpa Olaf and Asle, the one I was named after, the one who drowned when he was only seven, who got a nice little boat for his seventh birthday and drowned on the same day, playing with the boat, down on the bay, he thinks and he sees Kristoffer toddle forward, and it happens so slowly, he puts one foot in front of the other, stands there for a minute, then he takes the next step, forward, swaying back and forth a little, but forward, and then Kristoffer is standing in front of a pile of sheep heads and he feels the mouth of one of the sheep heads with his finger and then he slowly sticks his finger into a nostril and then quickly pulls his hand back again and then he stands there and looks at the sheep head, he looks into one eye, and then puts his finger right on the eye, feels it and then jerks back his finger very fast and again Kristoffer stands there and looks into the eye and again he puts his finger right on the eye and he presses his finger against the eyelid and then he pulls it down over the eye.
She thinks, who is that? she thinks, but no, she is standing right here, in front of the window, she is standing here and looking out, so why did she get it into her head that she was standing down there on the big road, as though dissolved? why see something like that and think something like that? no it can’t be, she thinks, because she’s standing here, here in front of the window, and she’s looking out, but she can’t stay standing like this, here in front of the window, after all she stands here so much, she just stands like this almost all the time, stands and looks out the window, and sometimes she looks down at the big road, sometimes at the little road, that’s what they called it, she thinks, the little road, to go with the big road, it was supposed to sound kind of cute, or maybe it was just to have a name for the road, and so it stayed the little road, that’s what they called it, the road that went down to the big road from the old house, their home, where they live, the old house, the oldest parts of the house are several hundred years old, and then it was added onto, here and there, and she herself has lived here for more than twenty years now, no, such a long time?
Aliss at the fire by Fosse, Jon; Searls, Damion