Nini Bennett-Moll. Die Nobelprys vir Letterkunde 2025: László Krasznahorkai

 

 

I

 

Die Nobelprys vir Letterkunde is op 9 Oktober 2025 toegeken aan die Hongaarse skrywer, László Krasznahorkai. Die Sweedse Akademie het aangevoer dat Krasznahorkai die prys ontvang “…for his compelling and visionary oeuvre that, in the midst of apocalyptic terror, reaffirms the power of art.” Die toekenning erken sy unieke stem en sy vermoë om universele temas deur ’n Hongaarse lens te verken.

László Krasznahorkai, gebore 5 Januarie 1954, is ’n Hongaarse romanskrywer, kortverhaalskrywer, essayis en draaiboekskrywer. Hy is bekend vir sy komplekse, hipnotiese prosa wat gekenmerk word deur lang, labirintagtige sinne en temas van eksistensiële Angst, apokaliptiese visioene en die pyn van die menslike kondisie. Sy werk, wat dikwels ’n poëtiese en filosofiese diepgang toon, sluit onder meer die volgende in: Satantango (1985), The Melancholy of Resistance (1989), en The World Goes On (2013). Krasznahorkai is die tweede Hongaar wat die Nobelprys vir Letterkunde ontvang, ná Imre Kertész in 2002.

László Krasznahorkai is gebore in Gyula, Hongarye. Hy het regte aan die Eötvös Loránd-Universiteit in Boedapest studeer voordat hy hom aan sy literêre loopbaan gewy het. Sy vroeë blootstelling aan filosofie en klassieke letterkunde het sy unieke styl beïnvloed, wat dikwels met dié van Franz Kafka en Thomas Bernhard vergelyk word.

Sy debuutroman, Satantango (1985) is bestempel as ’n meesterstuk en verfilm deur die filmvervaardiger, Béla Tarr. Kenmerkend van die roman en film is die lang, ononderbroke sinne wat ’n gevoel van tydloosheid en onrus skep. Die film, Satantango (1994) is ’n landmerk in epiese filmkuns, en duur sewe uur lank.

Krasznahorkai se oeuvre sluit voorts die volgende in: War & War (1999); Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming (2016), en Herscht 07769 (2021). Sy kortverhale en essays, soos dié in The World Goes On (2013), word as poëtiese prosa beskou vanweë hul liriese en meditatiewe kwaliteit. Krasznahorkai se gebruik van sintaksis – en sinne wat nie eindig nie – het inderdaad ’n evokatiewe uitwerking op die leser.

Ek haal die begin van The World Goes On aan: “I. Speaks: Wandering-standing”:

 

I have to leave this place, because this is not where anyone can be, or where it would be worthwhile to remain, because this is the place—with its intolerable, cold, sad, bleak, and deadly weight—from where I must escape, to take my suitcase, before everything else the suitcase, two suitcases will be precisely enough, to stuff everything into two suitcases, then click the lock shut so I can dash to the shoemakers, and resoling—I have resoled, and resoled again, boots are needed, a good pair of boots—in any event one good pair of boots and two suitcases are enough, and with these things we can set off already, inasmuch as we can determine—because this is the first step—exactly where we are right now; well, so a kind of ability is required, practical knowledge is required so we can decide where we are exactly—not just some kind of sense of direction, or some mysterious thing residing in the depths of the heart—so that in relation to this knowledge, we can then choose the right direction; we need a sense, as if we were grasping some particular sort of orientation device in our hands, a device to help us state: at this point in time, we are here and here in this point in space, located, as it happens, at an intersection that is particularly intolerable, cold, sad, bleak, and deadly, an intersection from which one must leave, because this is not where a person can be, or can remain, a person—in this swampy, disconcertingly dark point in space—can’t do anything else besides say: leave, and leave right now, leave at once without even thinking about it, and don’t look back, just follow the route determined in advance, with one’s gaze fixed firmly ahead, one’s gaze fixed, of course, on the right direction, the choice of which doesn’t seem so agonizingly difficult, unless, of course, it becomes clear that this practical knowledge, this particular sense—as it manages to identify the coordinates of the points extending through sadness and mortality—suddenly states: under “ordinary circumstances” what normally happens is that we say that from here, we have to go in this or that direction, in other words, we say this direction is the right direction, or the complete opposite direction is the correct direction: but there are certain instances, so-called “unordinary circumstances,” when this sense, this practical knowledge, justifiably highly valued, announces that the direction we have chosen is good, it tells us: go right ahead, that’ll be it, this way, fine— […]

Krasznahorkai het voor die toekenning van die Nobelprys reeds verskeie internasionale pryse ontvang, insluitend die Man Booker International Prize in 2015, en die National Book Award for Translated Literature (US) in 2019 vir Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming. Sy samewerking met Béla Tarr het ook groot lof ingeoes, veral vir die verfilming van Satantango.

II

Die toekenning van die 2025 Nobelprys vir Letterkunde aan László Krasznahorkai is eenparig met lof deur kritici ontvang, wat dit as ’n tydige erkenning beskou vir sy visioenêre, uitdagende prosa wat worstel met eksistensiële kwessies, die absurditeit van die lewe en die verlossende krag van kuns te midde van die mens se katastrofiese bestaan. Die Nobelprys word beskou as die (her)bevestiging van Krasznahorkai as kultusfiguur in die wêreldkanon, veral in ’n era van globale onstabiliteit.

Kritici beklemtoon deurlopend Krasznahorkai se hipnotiese, ongepunktueerde sinne – wat dikwels oor bladsye heen strek – as ’n stilistiese triomf wat die chaos weerspieël wat hy uitbeeld: ’n groteske oordaad vermeng met diepgaande insig.

Anders Olsson, die Nobelpryskomitee-voorsitter, het Krasznahorkai beskryf as ’n groot epiese skrywer in die Sentraal-Europese tradisie, en hy het die toekenning bejeën as ’n erkenning van die skrywer se versinnebeelding van distopiese weemoed waar droomagtige tonele en groteske karakters die brutale spanning tussen orde en wanorde in die wêreld verbeeld.

Die oorlede kritikus, Susan Sontag se 1990’s-benoeming van Krasznahorkai as die hedendaagse meester van die apokalips (ná die lees van The Melancholy of Resistance), se profetiese beskouing is herbesoek – wat Krasznahorkai se rol in die voorspelling van samelewingsverval bevestig.

The Guardian se kritikus, John Self, het Krasznahorkai se toekenning as ’n terugkeer na die Akademie se voorliefde vir Europese modernisme beskryf.

In The Atlantic het die kritikus, Jordan Kisner beweer dat die keuse ongewoon eksperimenteel vir ’n Nobelpryswenner is, maar heeltemal tydig in ’n onstabiele wêreld waar Krasznahorkai se werk ’n versperring voor ons gelate aanvaarding van geweld en oorlog plaas deur die surrealistiese as die werklikheid uit te beeld – tydlose politiek wat resoneer sedert die Hongarye van die 1980’s, tot die globale krisisse van 2025.

The New York Times het Krasznahorkai beskryf as ’n Hongaanse romanskrywer, bekend vir sy distopiese temas en onverbiddelike prosa, asook sy kritiek op Viktor Orbán se regime, wat ’n skeut politieke waagmoed by die toekenning voeg. Krasznahorkai kritiseer die globale neiging van die ultra-regse “sterkman”-bewind, soos Hongarye se eerste minister, Viktor Orbán. Inderdaad: Orbán se verering deur Donald Trump en J.D. Vance, en die ooreenkomste wat hy toon met Vladimir Poetin, Javier Milei en Benjamin Netanyahu, maak van Hongarye ’n kookpot van fascisme wat ook wêreldwyd besig is om te versprei.

Al Jazeera beskryf Krasznahorkai se styl as krities-uitdagend en veeleisend, met ’n voorliefde vir die obsessiewe: ’n oeuvre wat die werklikheid tot op die punt van waansin ondersoek.

Ander kritici het sy romans getakseer as filosofies en somber-humoristies – ’n literêre sensasie van meer as 20 boeke waarin taalkundige vindingrykheid seëvier. Die digte, labirintagtige styl herinner insgelyks aan die werk van W.G. Sebald.

Dit is opvallend daar daar weinig kritiek op die keuse van Krasznahorkai as ontvanger van die Nobelprys vir Letterkunde is – anders as byvoorbeeld Bob Dylan se 2016-toekenning.

Krasznahorkai is onbeskaamd ’n tradisionalis. Hy glo aan die beskouing dat die kunste ons beste verweer is om die glipstroom van barbarisme te vermy. In ’n onderhoud vroeër vanjaar het hy gesê:

 

Art is humanity’s extraordinary response to the sense of lostness that is our fate. Beauty exists. It lies beyond a boundary where we must constantly halt; we cannot go further to grasp or touch beauty – we can only gaze at it from this boundary and acknowledge that, yes, there is truly something out there in the distance. Beauty is a construction, a complex creation of hope and higher order.

Die kern van Krasznahorkai se oeuvre weerspeël die bekende Beckettiaanse dialektiek tussen deurlopende somberheid en etiese wanhoop, en die voortstuwende, onuitputlike dinamo van taal.

Krasznahorkai se werk is uitmuntend vertaal deur sy onverskrokke Engelse vertalers, George Szirtes (wat die vroeëre werk hanteer het), en Ottilie Mulzet (wat die latere werk aangepak het). Sonder hierdie vertalings is dit te betwyfel of hy die erkenning sou geniet het wat hom met die ontvangs van die Nobelprys te beurt geval het. Hierdie erkenning, wat Krasznahorkai in die literêre apeksposisie in die wêreldkanon posisioneer, moet uiteraard gemeet word aan ’n vergelykbare begrip van sy prestasies. Toe hy gevra is oor wat sy bron van inspirasie is, het Krasznahorkai geantwoord:

 

The bitterness. I am very sad if I think of the status of the world now. This is my deepest inspiration. This could be also an inspiration for the next generation or generations in literature. Inspiration to give something for the next generation, somehow to survive this time because these are very, very dark times and we need much more power in us to survive this time than before.

László Krasznahorkai word sonder twyfel beskou as een van die belangrikste stemme in kontemporêre letterkunde met ’n invloed wat wêreldwyd strek. Sy werk is in verskeie tale vertaal en hy word geloof vir sy vermoë om die absurditeit en skoonheid van die menslike kondisie te versoen.

Ten slotte haal ek graag die volledige essay, “He wants to forget”, soos dit voorkom in The World Goes On, aan:

 

We are in the midst of a cynical self-reckoning as the not-too-illustrious children of a not-too-illustrious epoch that will consider itself truly fulfilled only when every individual writhing in it—after languishing in one of the deepest shadows of human history—will finally attain the sad and temporarily self-evident goal: oblivion. This age wants to forget it has gambled away everything on its own, without outside help, and that it can’t blame alien powers, or fate, or some remote baleful influence; we did this ourselves: we have made away with gods and with ideals. We want to forget, for we cannot even muster the dignity to accept our bitter defeat: for infernal smoke and infernal alcohol have gnawed away whatever character we had, in fact smoke and cheap spirits are all that remains of the erstwhile? metaphysical traveler’s yearning for angelic realms—the noxious smoke left by longing, and the nauseating spirits left over from the maddening potion of fanatical obsession. No, history has not ended, and nothing has ended; we can no longer delude ourselves by thinking that anything has ended with us. We merely continue something, maintaining it somehow; something continues, something survives. We still produce works of art, but no longer even talk about how, it is that far from uplifting. We take as our premise all that until now denoted the nature of la condition humaine, and dutifully, in fact without a clue, obeying strict discipline, but in fact foundering in a slough of despond, we sink back once more into the muddy waters of the imaginable totality of human existence. We no longer even make the mistake of the wild young ones, by claiming that our judgment is the last judgment or declaring that this is where the road ends. We cannot claim that, since nothing makes sense anymore, for us works of art no longer contain narrative or time, nor can we claim that others might ever be able to find a way toward making sense of things. We declare that it has proved useless to disregard our disillusionment and set out toward some nobler goal, toward some higher power, our attempts keep failing ignominiously. In vain would we talk about nature, nature doesn’t want this; it is no use to talk about the divine, the divine doesn’t want this, and anyway, no matter how much we want to, we are unable to talk about anything other than ourselves, because we are only capable of talking about history, about the human condition, about that never-changing quality whose essence carries such titillating relevance only for us; otherwise, from the viewpoint of that “divine otherwise,” this essence of ours is, actually, possibly of no consequence whatsoever, for ever and aye.

 

Verwysings:

 

https://theconversation.com/a-great-pessimist-and-unapologetic-traditionalist-laszlo-krasznahorkai-wins-the-2025-nobel-prize-in-literature-267209 (15 Oktober 2025 besoek)

Krasznahorkai, L. The World Goes On. (Uit die Hongaars vertaal deur John Batki, Ottilie Mulzet and George Szirtes). A New Directions Ebook.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A1szl%C3%B3_Krasznahorkai (14 Oktober 2025 besoek)