Tell me who you associate with, my mother used to begin her verdict about certain of my friends, only to then conclude irrevocably and usually in a disrespectful tone: … and I’ll tell you who you are. The Swiss cabaret artist and writer Franz Hohler does not seem to fear such conclusions. At an advanced age, he was born in 1943, he dug deep into his apparently well-stocked archive and selected an impressive series of contributions that he made into the book under the title “Hohler & friends”: obituaries, prize and ceremonial speeches, forewords , chance encounters on public transport.
Reflections are collected over a period of 50 years. So is this all secondary use? Not exclusively, the book includes the exquisite collection of 63 named friends (including 19 girlfriends) with their more or less extensive portraits, which would hardly exist without this “life review” bracket. In addition to confessions of illustrious names such as Frisch, Bichsel, Wagenbach, Hüsch, Biermann (whom he paid his respects at Chausseestrasse 131 in East Berlin), readers will also learn to appreciate notable contemporaries who have achieved a lesser level of fame or are only known in Switzerland can boast. The “Liederer” Linard Bardill, born in 1956, with his praise for multi-purpose halls and the briefest definition of our so-called two-thirds society.
Veritable discoveries, made possible by Hohler’s deeply felt appreciations. Yes, determinations, peculiarities, things worth preserving emerge in a person’s life: Hohler can do it. And very often highlight its tragedy. Sometimes in prose, sometimes poetically. This is particularly moving on the occasion of the suicide of Niklaus Meienberg (1940–1993), the uncomfortable investigative writer, after whom he calls out disturbing verses: “Wounded, you walked/ through Oerlikon City/ with the dream of Paris in your head/ the disappointed one/ then too Paris/ is becoming more and more/ Züri-Nord«.
Also poignant is the memory of the charismatic songwriter Mani Matter (1936–1972), who died on the A3 near Kilchberg and, shortly before his death, wrote a libretto that said: “I was run over because I was careless. I was careless because I was thinking about something else. I thought it was a shame that I wasn’t a musician. For decades, Jürg Wyttenbach (1935–2021), a musician friend, was unable to complete the composition.
Hohler wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t allow himself to irritate the readers at the end. Anyone who has always suspected that obituaries and eulogies lie ready in an author’s drawer may feel strengthened by this. An unpublished speech is dedicated to Rafik Schami, born in 1956, for the next prize he will receive, in which Hohler empathizes with the situation of the friend “who has succeeded in inventing his second life, who has nested in the foreign language like a migratory bird who has decided not to fly back to where he came from.”
He is always close to what is human. Hohler’s creative life is reflected in the portraits of his friends. Conversely, the words that he found at the abdication ceremony of the satirist César Keisers (1925–2007) probably also apply to him. “And so he remained a friendly person and a human friend for me throughout my life.” I would say: Hohler is a gifted friend of human endeavor.
Franz Hohler: Franz Hohler & friends. Encounters with Elias Canetti, Friedrich Dürrenmatt, Klaus Wagenbach and others. Luchterhand, 304 p., hardcover, €24.
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