Die ganze Zeit

"What am I actually doing all the time while I think I'm speaking?" "Should (want and can) I see things through the eyes of those who can no longer see them or have not seen them yet?" - The thirty-one selves that frolic like mischievous spirits in Oswald Egger's lyrical novel dissolve into something that has promised all along, since Augustine: attention, expectation, and memory all at once. The now-sentences of the narrative cheekily leap into one another: gnomes, jackdaws, and other cloud creatures gain a fabulous life of their own and boldly hop from the stage of masks into the parterre of absurdity. There, they present immense, faded, often harsh scenes of a soon-to-be adventurous, soon-to-be wild chase after the futile, where it holds true: time is world.

In "Diskrete Stetigkeit," Oswald Egger demonstrated that one can think about poetic principles and patterns in a disturbing, fresh, liberated way, rather than leading back to the usual poems. Now, "Die ganze Zeit" sets thought and genres in motion: 800 pages dense with words, engaging, typographically designed by the author with linguistic aplomb. What a world!.