The Labyrinth of Dreaming Books
Walter Moers
Language: English
Pages: 432
ISBN: 1468301268
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
It has been more than two hundred years since Bookholm was destroyed by a devastating fire, as told in Moers's The City of Dreaming Books.
Hildegunst von Mythenmetz, hailed as Zamonia’s greatest writer, is on vacation in Lindworm Castle when a disturbing message reaches him, and he must return to Bookholm to investigate a mystery. The magnificently rebuilt city has once again become a metropolis of storytelling and the book trade. Mythenmetz encounters old friends and new denizens of the city―and the shadowy “Invisible Theater.” Astonishingly inventive, amusing, and engrossing, this is a captivating story from the wild imagination of Walter Moers.
‘A Candle Underwater’! Recalling this, I said to the gnome: ‘No thanks, gossip doesn’t interest me.’ He glared at me indignantly. ‘Me not gossip!’ he said in a trembling voice. ‘Me Live Historical Newspaper! Tested by Bookholm Tourist Association! All in Gothic!’ All in Gothic? I noticed only now that several tourists in this street were being followed around by similar little fellows attired in newsprint. The gnomes were reading aloud from their strips of paper. ‘Live Historical
Kibitzer, who was once more rummaging in some papers. ‘This really ought to interest you.’ ‘It had stopped raining by now,’ Inazia went on, ‘and Belphegor Bogaras prepared to leave, believing he’d done the best bit of business in his life. I escorted him to the door, but before I showed him out my nagging curiosity got the better of me. Unable to restrain myself, I tactlessly asked him how he’d lost his eyesight in the catacombs. ‘“Oh,” the Biblionaut replied casually, “that was down to the
definite signs of wear, were scuffed in many places or displayed cracks, fissures, tears in their costumes and other traces of use. They were unique – genuine theatrical puppets and much in demand. We paused in front of the bench. ‘Are these the puppets we’ll be seeing tonight?’ I asked. Inazia laughed a trifle superciliously. ‘No, they’re in retirement. They used to be the principal characters in plays that are no longer performed. That one is Professor Bimbam from The Legendary Professor
had three, four, or even five storeys. Tall, slender minarets of sheet iron, chimneys as tall as trees, stone towers – none of these would have been tolerated in the Bookholm of old. No longer was this a romantic little place frequented by a surfeit of tourists, nor the antiquarian township of my nostalgic recollection, but an entirely new place with different inhabitants, visitors and destinies. I came to a crossroads where my route intersected with others. From there I proceeded down numerous
or outside the city gates, where they have more scope for manoeuvre than in narrow streets. This art is practised mainly by fleet-footed dwarfs who fly their puppets in the air like kites. When cavorting in the heavens, fancifully painted protagonists made of flimsy paper and thin silk or gauze alternate with streamers inscribed with lines of dialogue – an extremely artistic spectacle whose aerial athleticism is at least as worth seeing as the plays themselves. One marvels at black storm gods