I was born in 1740, the same year as James Boswell, whom I met in 1764 when he was passing through Berlin together with the great Samuel Johnson. Unfortunately, Boswell developed a strong dislike towards me when he realized how much Johnson valued our common interest in pickles. Consequently, all our interesting conversations on this topic were left out of his Life, or attributed to Goldsmith.
This was the most formative time of my life. Being a fearless scientist, I grasped the secret of eternal life early, and have been surviving in this state ever since. But the hopes and dreams I had been entertaining in connection with this have been disappointed. Instead of taking part in discerning literary discussions, I have been forced to go through the literary stuffiness of the 19th century, and the total decline of the word into cheap images in the 20th. Will the flashy suadas of the 21st century give me any joy? It might be better to skip a few centuries ...
Nächster Vortrag 26.11.2019 19:30 Uhr im Palmenhaus Konstanz
"Narrative Identität - Erzählen wir unser Leben?"