Thomas Bernhard died on February 12, 1989, although, following his wish, his death was not known until four days later. If you go to Vienna, do not forget to visit the Grinzing Cemetery, where that huge writer of German literature of the second half of the twentieth century is buried (that of the first is Franz Kafka).

It is said or said that, when an author dies, he goes through a period of absence, until, after a few years, he returns to the position that really belongs to him in world literature. This has not been the case in Bernhard's case. Although he could not give reliable information, the truth is that Bernhard enjoys today in Austria, his country of origin, the prestige of being considered the Austrian Writer par excellence. Far are the times when he was deemed unpresentable.

I have always had the doubt of whether the Austrians really read Bernhard. But what is certain is that they continue to see their plays. By express prohibition of Bernhard in his will, there was a time when the Viennese had to go to Bratislava (Slovakia) to see Isabel II, just as the Spaniards went to Perpignan to see The Last Tango .

Since its premiere in 1986, Ritter, Dene, Voss continues to perform regularly in full theater in Vienna, by the same actors who gave the play its name: Ilse Ritter, Kirsten Dene and Gert Voss. Amazing. And Bernhard's theater, in general, still reigns in Vienna . The public seems to have discovered that Thomas Bernhard was (also) a humorist, and I always remember a story of his entitled Capricious Author (included in The Voice impersonator ) in which Bernhard tells how that author bet on the chicken coop in the theater where he It represented his first and only play, armed with a machine gun and was shooting at every spectator who laughed at the wrong time .

What happens in other countries, for example Spain? It's been years since Felix de Azúa talked about Bernhard fever. Some critic coined the term of Spanish children of Thomas Bernhard, and it is clear that there were many writers who read and assimilated, better or worse, Bernhard. The list would be long: Félix de Azúa, Juan Benet, Javier Marías, Vicente Molina Foix, José María Guelbenzu, Fernando Savater, Alejandro Gándara ...

What's happening today? I know that there are young people (of the young people who read) who like Bernhard very much, but, honestly, I could not quote Spanish authors declared to be Bernhardian.

Another thing is Latin America. Bernhard's influence, I think, is only comparable to Faulkner's. And I don't say it, many say that they have spent time analyzing it. Especially Marcelo Cohen and Martín Schifino. In Latin American literature, Bernhard, for some reason, was or is important, and the list of his followers is impressive: Juan José Saer, Roberto Bolaño, Juan Villoro, Sergio Pitol, Ricardo Piglia, Fogwill, Alan Pauls, Patricio Pron, Sergio Chejfec ... Some have been very committed: Horacio Castellanos Moya wrote in 1997 The Disgust. Thomas Bernhard in El Salvador, and it almost cost him his life; the Bolivian Edmundo Paz Soldán has written Thomas Bernhard in the cemetery ; the Mexican Alejandra Gómez Macchia a Bernhard dies ...

And what happens with the theater? I can only say that, currently, the Argentine publishing house El Cuenco de Plata has the project of publishing the entire Bernhard theater in Spanish.

As regards Spain, I remember some works besides the Ritter, Dene, Voss of the great Kristian Lupa. Roberto Villanueva, splendid Argentine director, premiered in Madrid, in 1987, The Force of Custom , which critics considered largely as a simple "theater of the absurd", already known.

Then Bernhard has been represented a lot. Rosario Ruiz (with Ana Caleya as Queen of the Night), made an ignorant and insane memorable one. And, personally, I keep a very special memory of A party for Boris , performed in Barcelona by a cast of a dozen authentic crippled ones. It was directed by Matthias Janser and Boris played the role of James O'Shea, a spectacular legless dancer. Another representation that seems extraordinary to me was that of Juan Navarro and Gonzalo Cunill, in 2013, of an adaptation of Tala's monologue. And in Catalonia I remember, above all, the representation of The President of Carme Portaceli, with an unbeatable President (Rosa Renom).

The Alfaguara publishing house now reissues, perhaps as a commemoration of the thirtieth centenary of Bernhard's death, two very well chosen novels. Concrete and Extinction . Also the publishing house Funambulista has published this year The Kulterer , one of the few important stories of Bernhard that remained to be translated.

Concrete is an immersion bath for those who want to know in a hundred pages who Thomas Bernhard was. The protagonist, an isolated and neurotic writer who tries to write a biography of Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, is a faithful transcript of Bernhard himself. In short, like him, he ends up taking refuge in his beloved Mallorca, the "most beautiful island in Europe." And what happens there, between names and barely transposed places, is something horrible and rigorously true .

Extinction , it has been said many times, is Bernhard's masterpiece, the last: a book that collects all his ways of writing and being, and in which Bernhard is at ease over more than 400 pages. It is not completely accurate, because, for starters, it is not Bernhard's last novel (it is old Masters ) and, on the other hand, Bernhard's good connoisseur will sometimes find passages that will be known to him, with an ending, yes, absolutely amazing.

As for El Kulterer , it is a very interesting prison story, in which Bernhard follows the formula (story-screenplay) that he had already used in Italian .

Unforgettable, inescapable, inevitable Bernhard. I am satisfied with the idea of ​​having been able to contribute in some way to the dissemination of his work.

According to the criteria of The Trust Project

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