W G Sebald: The Emigrants

It was, I thought, particularly auspicious that the rows of houses were interrupted here and there by patches of waste land on which stood ruined buildings, for ever since I had once visited Munich I had felt nothing to be so unambiguously linked to the word city as the presence of heaps of rubble, fire-scorched walls, and the gaps of windows through which one could see the vacant air.

Comments

POPULAR POSTS

Kafka and Rilke

TÃœBINGEN, JANUARY by Paul Celan

Edinburgh: St. Cuthbert's: Thomas De Quincey's Grave

The Parlograph