

‘Mastemann believes that man belongs to nature, and in nature there exists a constant psychological state of fear – no matter if you are a wolf or some hydrogen, your position in the world is always one of absolute defenselessness.’ At one point in the novel Mastemann claims that ‘human life is the spirit of war,’ a view that frightens Krasznahorkai. This manuscript is a fragmented allegory of four peaceful travelers who are on the run for war but time and again cross paths with the sinister Mastemann. Protagonist Korin discovers a mysterious manuscript that he wants to share with the world by any means necessary.

Thus, despite its title, War and War (1999) contains relatively little actual conflict. ‘Jesus, nowadays Tarantino is the best we have.’ Homo homini hydrogenĪpart from physical and linguistic violence, Krasznahorkai’s novels and novellas also offer more philosophical reflections on war. In a hoarse yet gentle voice he explains his views on the connections between war, art, and the human condition – all doused in cultural pessimism. We meet the author the day before in the lobby of his hotel in Amsterdam. On November 19 the Dutch Nexus Institute invited Krasznahorkai to its conference The War and the Future to discuss the war in Ukraine with several historians, political scientists and activists.

With the current state of the world, his razor-sharp analyses of demagogy and conflict seem more relevant than ever. Susan Sontag compared Krasznahorkai’s monumental despondent prose to that of Herman Melville and Gogol and he has been a Nobel Prize favorite for years. With the current state of the world, Krasznahorkai’s razor-sharp analyses of demagogy and conflict seem more relevant than ever. Endless sentences chock-full of martial metaphors dominate every page, as the many repetitions and stream-of-consciousness intermezzos concoct a feverish rhythm – the reader is drawn into a nightmare from which there is no waking up. Physical violence often disrupts characters and their surroundings, while the verbiage and experimental form of Krasznahorkai’s prose emanate a perpetual threat and aggression. Likewise, when the characters in The Melancholy of Resistance (1989) and Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming (2016) instinctively cling on to political pipe dreams, death and destruction ensue. His debut Satantango (1985) tells the story of a wretched peasant community that is seduced by the dubious messiah figure Irimiás, only to end up worse than before. Hungarian author László Krasznahorkai’s oeuvre is not for the faint of heart.
