Creative Sound Module Sb0480 Manual

Steinunn Sigurdardottir: The sunshine horse

" I was the shadow child which should finally come to light, as I told the story of the beloved long, gray-haired man. The child to light pull together these days and the whole room, with the new end of last night. This is nothing. I never come to light. And I am saying no grave to choose.

HERE RESTS NO SUNSHINE HORSE "

" The sunshine horse walked "before a while on the stack read books. Leave It also, I could not. I needed time to think about the confusion that this effusive reception are in my novel Head had caused. Torn between disappointment and enthusiasm I now come to the conclusion.

Technically very well done, unfortunately the content unsatisfactory

Since it does not help that Peter Urban-Halle of the FAZ "do not want to stop reading. Often enough I wanted to adopt "The sunshine horse" and send the books in heaven. But then again not. Confused? Yes, me too.

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Second attempt: We can not help, as continuous and in the privacy of the mind theories about the world to spin - even if this world, flanked by two covers, one fictional. The world knowledge leaves us no rest easy. It calls for a sense looking for context and produces interpretations - without asking unconsciously, continually.

I think this is exactly my problem. To page 141 (of 173!) Had read showed no sense to me. My interpretations were ineffective. Unnerved, I kept returning to two questions:

"What has to do the whole thing with the blurb? and "Why are they telling me?"

, that's Lilla. 43 years old, night nurse on the palliative care unit, divorced mother of two, the eternal daughter, colorless woman, Mostly-narrator, the slides, especially towards the end to the annoying habit of talking about himself in third person.

After 25 years, Lilla meets again its first and only love. The man who gave her color and contour (" Up to you I was a child, the fog was wandering around in the three hundred and sixty square feet of landscape Sjafnargata. "), has returned from Italy. He also divorced - and ready for "the new era," a new start. After the obligatory coffee follows the invitation to visit him but every time in his cottage.

" The meeting [in C afe ] is now promoting to light in the shadows of the past. Memories of the little brother to the Lilla had to take care of her mother at an early age that do not was able to love their own children to the German nanny Magda that she meant so much -. until it left the family "

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This causal chain Sigurdardottir rolls but unfortunately from. back on. Take up to that fateful meeting for a cup of coffee about 100 pages where Lilla episodic traumas of their childhood disintegrated while watching, and reports of negligent parents, both trapped in bubbles of their own past and unable to love each other even emotionally touching. As a reader, one must have a lot of confidence from the blurb, is different - or rather, was for me - the disorientation this described unbearable. But this language ...

Lillas memories are touching and were taken by the Icelandic author in a masterly form. Separately, all episodes are strong, entertaining, moving, worth reading, some of them even funny (see right). What I'm missing is, however, relevance (Grice: Be relevant!). A plan that allows the recalled puzzle pieces of life fall into each other and to the core of the novel leads

-. Spoiler -

In the event of page 141 Lillas win some very intimate confessions at last something of a context. Within a handful of lines to transform the tearful memories of the life of a woman disappointed in the sense of life and confession of a 43-year-olds the way to kill her lover has an accident and out of the - admittedly unlikely - perspective of a deceased relentlessly honest look back. This unexpected turn your breath away and almost compensates for the confusion. But only almost

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Conclusion. The book has not spoken to me and therefore difficult it was for me to talk about the book. Linguistically sophisticated and brilliantly designed, but the content remained alien to the end. Like a beautiful foreign film about love and death, without subtitles.