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It's done.

Nobel laureate Imre Kertész presented his new book "Dossier K. An Investigation" on a rainy evening at the end of October 2006 in the Rolf Liebermann Studio of the Norddeutscher Rundfunk, discussed it with the journalist Wend Kässens and then fulfilled his signing obligations.

Readings in front of a large auditorium are exhausting, even if you are used to such interest like Kertész, and so the author is looking forward to the approaching visit to an Italian restaurant, which the organizers cleverly announced to him in advance.

A taxi takes you to the Hamburger Badestrasse / corner of Mittelweg in a few minutes, in the dignified "Osteria Due".

Where the well-groomed world meets during the day - lawyers, journalists, publishers, TV faces - and Roger Willemsen was one of the regulars, the tables gradually empty around 10 p.m.

Imre Kertész is happy to end the day in this way in a not too big group.

You order wine, talk about this and that, preferably not about literary and aesthetic things, because authors usually try to avoid that after their work is done.

The Hungarian poet orders fish, others order spaghetti with scampi and chilli.

He could also use the Merkel diamond: Imre Kertesz

Source: Getty Images

An informal conclusion without any special incidents, one might think, if - yes, if not the organizer, while the espresso is being served, would reach into his pocket and pull out the guest book.

It would be nice, he whispers in the ear of the famous author, if he would perpetuate himself with a small contribution.

Imre Kertész is an experienced man who does not allow himself to be disturbed.

His look darkens a little, almost imperceptibly, but he is far from contradicting the friendly request.

He knows that it is customary in many bookstores and literary houses to keep a guest book - be it to document the reading program, be it to hawk important poet autographs on eBay in emergencies.

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That the guest book is a curse is an often-quoted bon mot, and quite a few writers share this assessment.

To get the most original lines down on paper at a late hour and to know that the round table is being observed discreetly is not to everyone's taste.

Some give up and leave themselves half-heartedly apologetic with a helpless and succinct “A nice evening, thank you!” Or “Cordially you ...” - knowing that they will remain far below their level.

Also popular is the postmodern, self-deprecating phrase "After long, futile thought: ...", the originator of which can no longer be determined beyond doubt.

Josef Weinträger or Stefan Zweig are sometimes mentioned.

Guest book research has tasks ahead of it.

Imre Kertész does not contest that.

Certainly, a Nobel Prize creates a particular pressure of expectation, but he knows how to deal with it and, after a brief pondering, lands a big hit this evening.

Kertész's pioneering Hamburg guest book entry from October 25, 2006 reads: “The pikeperch was very good!” What touching simplicity, what grandeur, which you can tell at first glance that an experienced author was at work here.

Kertész closes the guest book, sips the wine again and knows - a faint smile indicates it - that he has achieved something important.

Somebody should imitate him.

It is said that all life as a writer is paper.

In this series we offer counter-evidence.