Robert Walser (Text), Käthi Bhend (Ill.)

Einer, der nichts merkte

«Einmal verlor er sein ganzes Vermögen, aber er spürte es nicht, merkte es nicht. Es tat ihm auch gar nicht weh, denn wer nichts merkt, dem tut auch nichts weh.»

The yarn of Robert Walser’s ultra-short stories is spun from everyday life and woven effortlessly together, as if by a child. The tapestries tell of the fragility of life and yet report on real odds and ends. Käthi Bhend captures these aspects wonderfully in her illustrations of the stories of a certain Mister Binggeli – a man who stopped taking notice of anything because he «couldn’t care less.» He was simply «thoughtless and empty,» so that he didn’t even notice how he lost his own head.
In her interpretations of Walser’s stories, Käthi Bend absolutely manages to maintain the tension between the unusual and the self-evident, free of any symbolism. Mister Binggeli disappears in a snowstorm, in the end nothing but his nose looks out of the snow, a cat sniffs it. She, the cat, also appears as the narrator and finally asks: «Do you believe that?»
An ingenious idea: since Walser lets himself off the hook with an ironic detour, the illustrator decides to raise different questions. And Käthi Bhend dares to bring her concretisation to the boil by having Mrs Binggeli stitch her husband’s head back on – a scene which is as succinct and abstruse as Walser’s own ideas. And an image which shines a light on «the man who noticed nothing» one last time. As always, he is staring dumbfounded out into the world. Or not? Is his face tinged by a slight hint of red?

(Hans ten Doornkaat, trans. by Simon Froehling)

Source: SIKJM Database

Translation of title: One Who Noticed Nothing

Atlantis, Zürich 2003