The other day (the one preceding today) I saw a woman who looked like Nikolaus Karl Günther Nakszyński (Klaus Kinski). I could have easily mistaken her for the great German actor, the principal star of such films as Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes, The Secret Diary of Sigmund Freud, Nosferatu a Venezia, Les Fruits de la Passion, Burden of Dreams, Kinder, Mutter und ein General, Ludwig II: Glanz und Ende eines Königs, Um Thron und Liebe/Sarajewo and Morituri, had she not been wearing a long woman’s-coat and smoking a Virginia Slims.
The other day (the one before today) I saw a woman who looked suspiciously (or was it conspicuously?) like Carl Adolf von Sydow (Max von Sydow), the star of such films as Det Sjunde inseglet, Fröken Julie, Smultronstället, Nära Livet, Jungfrukällan, Älskarinnan, Svarta Palmkronor, Il Deserto dei Tartari, Ingenjör Andrées luftfärd, Le Cercle des passions, and Bara en mor (Only a Mother). If it weren’t for the fact that she was wearing a leopard-skin jacket, a lilac-pullover and an Ushanka propeller cap.
I saw Carl Adolf von Sydow, face reddening, steadying a piece of wood, a shim or a shingle or a truss, as Karl Günther Nakszyński hacked away at it with a broad-axe. The two men, principal actors in they’re own right, were gabbing to one another in German, a Teutonic banter that was ear-deafening. At one point Carl turned to Karl and said, whisperingly, I bet I could beat you at chess, to which Karl said, ‘and I you at staying afloat on a beanpole-raft with a thousand-and-one monkeys’. ‘Would I have to wear a helmet?’ asked Carl. ‘Only if it rains’ said Karl, ‘and then it’s up to you whether to keep it on or not’. The two men, Karl and Carl laughed, shook they’re feet in the air and went back to sawing, Carl steadying, Karl hacking away.
The other day (the one before today) I saw a woman who looked suspiciously (or was it conspicuously?) like Carl Adolf von Sydow (Max von Sydow), the star of such films as Det Sjunde inseglet, Fröken Julie, Smultronstället, Nära Livet, Jungfrukällan, Älskarinnan, Svarta Palmkronor, Il Deserto dei Tartari, Ingenjör Andrées luftfärd, Le Cercle des passions, and Bara en mor (Only a Mother). If it weren’t for the fact that she was wearing a leopard-skin jacket, a lilac-pullover and an Ushanka propeller cap.
I saw Carl Adolf von Sydow, face reddening, steadying a piece of wood, a shim or a shingle or a truss, as Karl Günther Nakszyński hacked away at it with a broad-axe. The two men, principal actors in they’re own right, were gabbing to one another in German, a Teutonic banter that was ear-deafening. At one point Carl turned to Karl and said, whisperingly, I bet I could beat you at chess, to which Karl said, ‘and I you at staying afloat on a beanpole-raft with a thousand-and-one monkeys’. ‘Would I have to wear a helmet?’ asked Carl. ‘Only if it rains’ said Karl, ‘and then it’s up to you whether to keep it on or not’. The two men, Karl and Carl laughed, shook they’re feet in the air and went back to sawing, Carl steadying, Karl hacking away.
