Still in Handke Mode: Rereading "A Sorrow Beyond Dreams"

First book I ever read by Handke (given to me by a friend) was a used copy of Three By Peter Handke: The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick; Short Letter, Long Farewell; A Sorrow Beyond Dreams. I certainly have reread the other two once or twice, I can't remember re "Beyond Dreams."

Anyway, Handke's mother plays a very important role in "Moravian Night," so I've decided I'd better give "Beyond" another go.

***

As usual when engaged in literary work, I am alienated from myself and transformed into an object, a remembering and formulating machine. I am writing the story of my mother, first of all because I think I know more about her and how she came to her death than any outside investigator who might, with the help of a religious, psychological, or sociological guide to the interpretation of dreams, arrive at a facile explanation of this interesting case of suicide; but second in my own interest, because having something to do brings me back to life; and lastly because, like an outside investigator, though in a different way, I would like to represent this VOLUNTARY DEATH as an exemplary case.

*

No possibilities, it was all settled in advance: a bit of flirtation, a few giggles, brief bewilderment, then the alien, resigned look of a woman starting to keep house again, the first children, a bit of togetherness after the kitchen work, from the start not listened to, and in turn listening less and less, inner monologues, trouble with her legs, varicose veins, mute except for mumbling in her sleep, cancer of the womb, and finally, with death, destiny fulfilled. The girls in our town used to play a game based on the stations in a woman’s life: Tired/ Exhausted/Sick/Dying/Dead.