Sunday, 10 February 2013

The Sub-Editor - W G Sebald


W G SEBALD


I am reading Austerlitz. W G Sebald. 

It comforts me strangely, though I struggle to say why. As I am strangely comforted by reading the obituaries of people who die young: literary figures, artists, musicians, photographers, all kinds of engineers and technicians. People I admire. People who other people have bothered to bear witness too.

It helps me to believe that a short life isn't necessarily a tragedy: a wasted life. 

And, Austerlitz: a wretched life can still be a worthwhile life, so long as it is properly told.

This is my concern: whether the worth of a life is dependent on how it is told. 


But, I dream of a library, a comprehensive history of humanity, where everybody's life is documented and archived. Forget birth certificates and marriage certificates, death certificates and CVs. I dream of a library where everyone who ever lived has taken the time to write themselves down. Or, someone else has done it for them. Some sub-editor of life.


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