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Zwischen Licht und Schatten: Die Messner-Tragödie am Nanga Parbat

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Hans Saler

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“Ich fühle, wie die Kraft aus mir herausfließt. Die Energie, die mich auf den Beinen hält. Lebenskraft. Wie Asche, die der Wind davonträgt. Beinahe lache ich auf, so wunderbar und unangebracht poetisch ist das Schicksal manchmal. Seine Ascheaugen, eine Illusion, aus Nacht entsprungen, sind dafür verantwortlich, dass meine Unbeschwertheit, mein ganzes Leben überhaupt erst in Flammen aufgegangen ist.”

“„Ich weiß nicht, was es ist. Aber ich weiß, dass da etwas ist“, gab ich ehrlich zu und begrub mein Gesicht in beiden Händen. „Weißt du, meine Oma hat immer zu mir gesagt: Irgendwann klopft das Schicksal an deine Tür und teilt dir mit, dass es jetzt an der Zeit ist, dass du glücklich wirst“, sie wischte die übrigen Tische ab und sah mich dabei an, „...du solltest die Tür öffnen.”

“Death takes us by surprise, And stays our hurrying feet; The great design unfinished lies, Our lives are incomplete But in the dark unknown, Perfect their circles seem, Even as a bridge's arch of stone Is rounded in the stream. Alike are life and death, When life in death survives, And the uninterrupted breath Inspires a thousand lives. Were a star quenched on high, For ages would its light, Still traveling downward from the sky, Shine on our mortal sight. So when a great man dies, For years beyond our ken, The light he leaves behind him lies Upon the paths of men.”

“While I'm writing you I might mention the new novel I'm considering writing; it has to do with the phonograph record business, which I was involved with, at the retail end, for over seven years. I guess I'll make it a S-F novel, though, setting it in the future. My memory tapes (so to speak) have few if any gaps in them about my years in the record business, what with the rip-offs and payola. The small profits for the retailer, the huge chains that are wholesalers-retailers who crowd out the little guy. Provisionally, I will call the record company DOGSHIT RECORDS INC. (Or DRI, as they have now EMI, RCA, MCA, etc.) In my head I've blocked out the tory of an android who has an agent who is another android, but neither knows the other is an invader. (There is a sort of mutual surprise ending, but the main thing is to lay forth the inner workings of an industry for our readership, in a novel of the sort I tend to write and they tend to read.) The musical artist's agent is named (are you ready?) Skim Morewithit, and so forth. There are rip-offs of royalties, two sets of books, all the usual stuff you find today and yesterday in the record business. As to locale, I haven't decided. Maybe on Jupiter, because it will be a (ahem) heavy novel.”