3.2 The books of memories: Sebald as ghost hunter

3.2 The books of memories:

Sebald as a ghost hunter164

In the hybrid accounts characteristic of Sebald's prose – a kind of arrangement produced from fictionalized memories, travel journals, inventories of natural curiosities and meditations around the work of art165 –, a notion prevails: the idea that his entire work, just as the author refers to the writing of Peter Weiss, is "conceived as a visit to the dead”166 . Amongst the variety of sources that compose his catalog of references, it is possible to affirm that the books of memories namely, the diaries kept by writers - have an essential character.

It is in this perspective that the narrative of The Rings of Saturn directs itself: firstly, through Sebald's quotations of Joseph Conrad's diary [1857-1924]. From a trigger of the pilgrimage - the narrator's passage through the city of Southwold and the documentary seen on Roger Casement, as mentioned above - the writer takes a considerable glimpse of Conrad's personal history and, in effect, seeks to reconstruct the narrative about the encounter between Casement and the then Belgian steam captain in Congo167 . The procedure is crucial to understand Sebald's logic and explains the author's creative process.

There are a number of themes that define Sebald's affinity around the figure of Conrad: the interest in pilgrimage and life at sea168 , the scale of destruction

164 Asked, in an interview, about the possibility of seeing himself as a ghost hunter, Sebald replies: “I think it’s pretty precise. It’s nothing ghoulish at all, just an odd sense that in some way the lives of people who are perhaps no longer here – and these can be relatives or people I vaguely knew, or writer colleagues from the past, or painters who worked in the sixteenth century – have an odd presence for me, simply through the fact that I may get interested in them.” (SEBALD, 2007b, page 42) 165 “[…] critics have puzzled over what to call his works, with their mélange of fictionalized memoir, travel journals, inventories of natural and man-made curiosities, impressionistic musings on paintings, entomology, architecture, […] and more.” (SCHWARTZ, 2007, page 16) 166 “All of his work [by Peter Weiss] is conceived as a visit to the dead.” (SEBALD, 2014c, page 97, own translation) 167 “As I had lost, except for those few words [from Conrad’s diary] and some somber images of Conrad and Casement, […], I have since tried to reconstruct in some way, from the sources, the story from which sleep deprived me that night (unforgivingly, I imagine) in Southwold.” (Id., 2010, page 110, own translation) 168 “[Joseph Conrad] Korzeniowski, who in the meantime had acquired British citizenship and the rank of captain had been in the most remote regions of the globe […].” (Ibid., page 120)

addressed by the two authors and the imagetic quality of the writing169 . Through the elaboration of the narrator around the Polish writer's life trajectory, the narrative inscribes a panorama of the destruction170 and calls into question, once again, the catastrophe caused by humans – now, under the justification of progress171 . In the course of his work, Sebald reinforces a constant link between the distortions of interior life172 and the historical perspective. Still, with regards to the pilgrimage, the account of Conrad's life highlights the idea of the pilgrim as a wanderer173 – a view taken from the life and work of the Polish writer, as seen in the Heart of Darkness174:

Nor is there an initiation into such mysteries. He [man] needs to live in the midst of what is incomprehensible, which in turn is also hateful. And all of this also contains a fascination that acts on him. (CONRAD, 2019, p. 8)

Further on, the narrator focuses on the life of the writer Algernon Swinburne [1837-1909], a regular at Dunwich - the ruined city referred to in the first chapter. By incorporating a series of events related to Swinburne - taken from notes compiled by biographers of the author and colleagues at the time -, Sebald inserts one of the most relevant comparisons with regards to the exercise of literature, precisely as “a less radical form of self-destruction”175 . About Swinburne's production, the text highlights the poem By the North Sea, a kind of elegy that

169 “Like Conrad, [...], Sebald makes us see. His mental process is essentially organic; it proceeds by means of visual and emotional association, at the opposite pole of the systematic thought […].” (ROMER, 2002) 170 From the records of the Russian occupation of Poland to the horrors of Congo’s colonization. 171 “[...] King Leopold, patron of the exemplar enterprise, declares that the friends of humanity could not seek a more noble objective: to open the last part of our land that until then had remained untouched by the blessings of civilization.” (SEBALD, 2010, page 123, own translation) 172 Still on Weiss’s writing, but which correlates with Sebald’s own understanding: “But in the course of this evolution, even private suffering is increasingly mixed with an understanding that the grotesque deformations of our inner life have their background scenario and origin in the collective social history.” (Id., 2019, page 9, own transaltion) 173 “He was a sailor, but he was also an errant […].” (CONRAD, 2019, page 5, own translation) 174 Joseph Conrad’s novel describing the horrors of Congo’s colonization through the figure of Marlow, captain of a steamboat for a Belgian trading company. 175 “Despite his extremely disproportionate physique, Swinburne dreamed from an early age […] of joining a cavalry regiment and losing his life as a beau sabreur in some equally absurd battle. […] only when he lost hope once and for all of a heroic death, due to his underdeveloped body, did he fully engage in the exercise of literature and thus, perhaps, to a less radical form of selfdestruction.” (SEBALD, 2010, page 165, own highlights and translation)

refers to the ruined landscape of Dunwich: “Like ashes the low cliffs crumble and the banks drop down into dust176 .

The narrator's movement is noticeable: as he captures the memory records of the dead, he pays important reflections on the exercise of literature itself. The only exception is represented by the visit to Michael Hamburger [1924-2007], the only writer alive until then. From the dialogue with Hamburger, Sebald's narrative introduces two questionings: the first asks about the reason for the writing; the second, on the duration of elective affinities, an essential point of connection between Sebald and the writers of his admiration:

We broke our heads in vain, days and weeks on end, and, if asked, we would not be able to say whether we continue to write out of habit or vanity, or because we do not know how to do anything else of life, or out of astonishment, out of love for the truth, out of desperation or out of indignation, nor would we be able to tell whether writing makes us more perceptive or crazier. (SEBALD, 2010, page 183, own translation) Over what distances in time do elective affinities and correspondences prevail? How do we see ourselves in another person, or, if not ourselves, then our precursor177? (Ibid., P. 183, own highlights and translation)

From the encounter with Hamburger, the most enlightening passage about Sebald's procedure also emerges, which reason "can do nothing against the ghosts of repetition”178 . It is in this perspective that the writer's work takes place, in the manner of a ghost hunter. In an article on the writing of Nabokov, another writer who continually integrates his network of references179 , ” Sebald is even

176 “A long poem entitled By the North Sea is his tribute to the progressive dissolution of life. Like ashes the low cliffs crumble and the banks drop down into dust.” (SEBALD, 2010, page 162, own translation) 177 Then, the narrator offers a moment of contemplation around the elective affinities with Hamburger and introduces yet another autobiographical correspondence: “That I have passed through the English custom-house thirty-three years after Michael, that I now think about giving up my craft of professor, that he is working hard writing in Suffolk and me in Norfolk […]: none of this is particularly strange. But because on my first visit to Michael, I had the feeling that I lived or had once lived in his house, just as he lived, that I cannot explain.” (Ibid., pages 183 and 184, own translation) 178 “[...] my reason can do nothing against the ghosts of repetition, which haunt me more and more assiduously.” (Ibid., page 188, own highlights and translation) 179 The mention to Nabokov is common in interviews given by Sebald, in particular about the memoir Speak, Memory. From this biography, Sebald also incorporates Nabokov’s passion for the study of butterflies and moths: “In my view, almost nothing concerned him as much as the

more forceful: “Ghosts and writers meet in their common concern with the past, theirs and of the ones they loved180 .

In dealing with this uninterrupted flow of rescue, Sebald establishes a series of correspondences: this is the case of the mention of Edward Fitzgerald [18091883], a writer who appears in the narrative of The Rings of Saturn and in the article on Nabokov mentioned above181 . In both texts, the importance of Fitzgerald is explained by the author's translation of Rubayat, by the Persian poet Omar Khayyam - an experience referred to by the translator as a kind of colloquy with the dead182 . Like the other life trajectories covered in The Rings of Saturn, there is a permanent relationship between the personal aspect and the recurrent signs of destruction. From Fitzgerald's records, the narrator highlights the friendship with William Browne183 , whose loss awakens an unforgiving melancholy on the writer.

Still, on memoirs, perhaps the most striking reference in the entire narrative is the diary kept by the Viscount de Chateaubriand [1768-1848], published under the title Memories from beyond the grave. It is through the invocation of Chateaubriand's past that Sebald best questions the exercise of creation and the ability of memory to remain184 . There is also, from the fragments of the French writer, a kind of tribute - albeit disappointed - to the imperious force of memory:

knowledge of the spirits, of which his famous passion, the study of butterflies and moths, was perhaps just a variant.” (SEBALD, 2014d, page 136, own translation) 180 SEBALD, W. G – Texturas Oníricas: Pequena observação sobre Nabokov. 181 “Had Nabokov known verses by the 11th-century Persian poet translated by Edward Fitzgerald, his distant predecessor at Trinity College, Cambridge, and he would have subscribed to the notion of perpetual movement found in them.” (SEBALD, 2014b, page 141, own translation) 182 “Fitzgerald described the endless hours he spent translating this two and twenty-four-page poem as a colloquy with the dead.” (Id., 2010, page 202, own highlights and translation) 183 “It is not clear whether he realized […] the desire that moved him, but only the constant care that Browne’s state of health inspired him was an indication of his deep passion. Browne undoubtedly embodied for Fitzgerald a kind of ideal, but precisely for that reason he had seemed to him from the beginning under the shadows of transience […].” (Ibid., 203, own translation) 184 “Isn’t it unfair to waste your happiness in favor of exercising the talent? Will my writings survive my grave? Will anyone still be able to understand me in a modified world from top to bottom? –The viscount writes these lines in 1822.” (Ibid., page 251, own highlights and translation)

And yet, what would we be without memory? We would not be able to order the simplest thoughts, the most sensitive heart would lose the ability to become attached to another [...]. What sadness is not our life! So full of false assumptions, so futile that it is little more than the shadow of the chimeras released by memory. (SEBALD, 2010, page 253, own highlights and translation)

In the last chapter of the book, the mention of Thomas Browne's library - largely imaginary - recalls the principle of cataloging explored throughout the narrative. The so-called Musaeum Clausum or Bibliotheca Abscondita is a reference by Browne to his probable collection of books and antiques, the extent of which also covers, according to the narrator, “the inventory of a treasure existing only inside his head”185 . In addition to the allusion to the compendium, Sebald shapes the circular movement characteristic of his writing – from Browne, a recurring figure in the narrative, to the mention of the silkworm186 . It is at this point that we have some access to the symbolism of the moth, a presence that accompanies the development of the narrator's entire report187 .

The continuous reference to the moth aligns with the mental pilgrimage of the last chapter: in the foreground, the narrator describes the process of reproduction of the moths and, consequently, the metamorphosis of the silkworms. From the remarkable complexity resulting from this process - inspired by the perspective of destruction188 –, the book enters the human interest in the practice of sericulture and makes a vast historical record - from the introduction in China,

185 “In a folder of posthumous writings by Thomas Browne […], there is also a catalog entitled Musaeum Clausum or Bibliotheca Abscondita of books, figures, antiques […], of which this or that must have been an effective part of a collection of the rarities collected by Browne, but most were certainly the product of his imagination, the inventory of a treasure existing only inside his head.” (SEBALD,2010, pages 269 and 270, own translation) 186 “All of this is compiled in the naturalist and medical record, rich in wonders, of Thomas Browne, all of this and much more, of which, however, I will not mention the rest now, except perhaps that bamboo cane that served as a staff and within which […] were brought the first silkworm eggs to the western world. “ (Ibid., page 271, own translation) 187 After the quotation, from Browne, on the process of transmigration of moths, the narrator forays into the practice of sericulture in China, the motto for the development of the sixth chapter. 188 “The sole purpose of this butterfly is to breed. The male dies shortly after mating. The female lays three to five hundred eggs in the space of several days and then also dies.” (SEBALD, 2010, page 272, own translation)

through the expansion of cultivation in France189 until the arrival in Nazi Germany190 .

In a broad perspective, the presence of the moth summons the intricate net that Sebald develops throughout the narrative - in the manner of the web produced by the bowels of the silkworm and, consequently, of the thread manufactured by the weaver. It is in this sense that the author establishes a connection between the exercise of literature and the weaver practice191 . Ultimately, the symbol of the moth is the structure capable of signaling the notion of permanent duplicity around destruction and ash192 – either by the transmigration process itself, as Browne observed at first, or by the convergence pointed out by Sebald in the closing of the book:

And Thomas Browne, who as the son of a silk merchant would have had an eye for these things, observes in a passage [...] of his Epidemic Pseudodoxy that, in Holland of his time, it was a habit to cover with silk veils all mirrors and all the paintings that exhibited landscapes, people or fruits of the earth in the house of the deceased, so that the soul, when leaving the body, would not be distracted on its last trip, either by its own reflection or by its homeland, which it would soon lose forever. (2010, page 292, own highlights and translation)

The last convergence of the narrative is not trivial: the silk veil does not prevent the return of the dead, but rather makes the retention process viable. Amongst

189 To this end, Sebald uses yet another memoir: Mémories de Sully, by Maximilien de Béthune – Duke of Sully-, in which the duke presents the advantages of silkworm cultivation to his sovereign. 190 After commenting on Hazzi’s unsuccessful plan [German advisor at the time of the first promotion of sericulture], the narrator states that the plan was carried out by fascists, as he discovered in the public archive of the village where he was born. There are notable points of convergence between the practice of sericulture and the purposes of the regime, including “extermination to prevent the degeneration of the breed.” (SEBALD, 2010, page 290, own translation) 191 “It is natural, therefore, that, above all, the weavers, along with the educated and other writers with whom they have a lot in common […] tended to suffer from melancholy and from all the other evils associated with it, due to the work that forced them to sit hunched, day after day, in an attempt to keep their reflection permanently sharp and to calculate without rest the complex artificial models they create.” (Ibid., page 279, own highlights and translation) 192 About achieving a presence that accompanies the entire narrative through the symbol: “[...] [it’s] an opportunity to create something which has a kind of haunting, spectral quality to it, something that appears, forms of apparitions of virtual presence that have, vanishing though they are, a certain intensity which can otherwise be not very easily achieved.” (SEBALD, 2007b, page 53)

the ghosts of repetition of Sebald's writing – from the literary references to the records of the memory of the dead – there is something that emerges, fundamentally from the perspective of the permanence of ash. Or again, as the author asserts: “the desire to suspend time is only validated in the most scrupulous evocation of things long forgotten”193 .

193 “Nabokov also knew, and better that most of his fellow writers, that the desire to suspend time is only validated by the most scrupulous evocation of things long forgotten.” (SEBALD, 2014d, page 139, own translation)

Image 33: The adult silkworm moth (table 29, figure 23), incorporated by Sebald into the narrative.