„Every story we tell about ourselves can only be told in the past tense. It winds backward from where we now stand, no longer the actors in the story but its spectators who have chosen to speak.” (Zitat Seite 364)

Inhalt
1975 entdeckt Leo Hertzberg, Professor für Kunstgeschichte, in einer Galerie ein Gemälde eines damals noch weitgehend unbekannten Künstlers, das ihn durch die darin verborgene Aussagen sofort beeindruckt und eine Woche später kauft er es. William Wechsler, der Künstler, wollte wissen, wer sein Bild gekauft hatte und seit dem ersten persönlichen Treffen verbindet Leo und Bill eine enge Freundschaft. Fünfundzwanzig Jahre ist das nun her und Leo erzählt die Geschichte ihrer beiden Familien, die untrennbar miteinander verbunden sind.

Thema und Genre
Dieser Roman spielt in New York, im lebhaften Künstlerviertel SoHo, und es geht um Freundschaft, Ehe, Eltern und Kinder, um Lebensentwürfe und die Suche nach künstlerischen Ausdrucksformen, Künstlerleben und den Kunstmarkt. Wichtige Themen sind Psychologie und Gefühlswelten, Beziehungen zwischen Liebe und Obsession, Verlust, Trauer, Hoffnung und Enttäuschungen.

Erzählform und Sprache
Die Geschichte wird ausgehend von der Gegenwart rückblickend erzählt, wobei ein chronologischer Zeitablauf, beginnend fünfundzwanzig Jahre zuvor, eingehalten wird. Dieser Rahmen wird jedoch durch viele weitere Ereignisse unterbrochen, an die sich der Ich-Erzähler Leo Hertzberg spontan erinnert. Da geht um um prägende Erlebnisse aus der Kindheit, Erinnerungen an die Eltern, aber auch einzelne Situationen und die damit verbundenen Gefühle. Im Mittelpunkt stehen zwei Familien: Leo Hertzberg, seine Ehefrau Erica Stein, Anglistin, der gemeinsame Sohn Matthew, und Bill Wechsler, seine erste Ehefrau, die Lyrikerin Lucille Alcott, der gemeinsame Sohn Mark, sowie Bills zweite Ehefrau, die Historikerin Violet Blom. Dazu kommen weitere wichtige Figuren, die durch ihr Verhalten das Leben der beiden Familie entscheidend beeinflussen. Ergänzt wird die Handlung durch eine lebhafte Schilderung der New Yorker Künstlerszene und kritische Betrachtungen des Kunstsektors. Siri Hustvedts Figuren zeichnen sich durch eine starke Präsenz und eine intensive Gefühlswelt aus, was diesen Roman eindrücklich und packend macht, zusammen mit gekonnt eingesetzten Spannungselementen. Diese Intensität spiegelt sich auch in der Sprache wider. Ich habe den Roman in der Originalsprache gelesen, die deutschsprachige Ausgabe trägt den Titel „Was ich liebte“.

Fazit
Eine komplexe, intensive und menschlich sehr kluge Geschichte, auch sprachlich überzeugend – keine Neuerscheinung, aber zeitlos lesenswert. ( )

“The recollections of an older man are different from those of a young man. What seemed vital at forty may lose its significance at seventy. We manufacture stories, after all, from the fleeting sensory material that bombards us at every instant, a fragmented series of pictures, conversations, odors, and the touch of things and people. We delete most of it to live with some semblance of order, and the reshuffling of memory goes on until we die.“

Leo Hertzberg is a professor of art history living in New York with his wife Erica, and son Matthew. Experimental artist Bill Weschler, his wife, Lucille, and their son, Mark, move into the apartment upstairs. Bill and Lucille divorce, and Bill marries his muse, Violet. Each character is an artist, academic, or writer. It begins in 1975 and covers a period of approximately twenty-five years. It is a psychological character study of a small number of people – primarily Leo, Bill, Mark, and Violet – revolving around the New York art scene. It is a book to be experienced, as a plot summary will not do it justice.

The story is told by Leo, looking back on what happened in the lives of these two families. It takes time to set the stage, but once everything is in place, it is an intriguing story that is hard to put down. The characters are strikingly well-drawn. The writing is erudite and expressive. The interactions among the characters are intense. I particularly enjoyed the descriptions of the artistic processes. It is a story of relationships, friendship, grief, art, narcissism, and wishful thinking. It is brilliant. I am adding it to my list of favorites.

“But spectacular lies don’t need to be perfect. They rely less on the liar’s skill than on the listener’s expectations and wishes.”
( )

**** : Magnifique livre sur notre génération ses rêves ses ideaux ses déceptions. Depuis j'ai acheté tous ses livres sans jamais y retrouver le même plaisir.

A complex and winding story about art, love, loss, and madness. ( )

"Was ich liebte, das bleibt", weiß Leo Hertzberg in Siri Hustvedts neuem Roman. Was dem jüdischen Kunsthistoriker nach seiner Erblindung im Alter aber bleibt, ist eigentlich nur mehr die Erinnerung an ein Leben, dessen Verlauf er sich in jungen Jahren anders vorgestellt hatte. Hertzberg wohnt in New York, in einem Loft in unmittelbarer Nähe zur Familie des befreundeten Malers Bill Wechsler, dessen Frauenakt er einst in einer Galerie erworben hatte. Aus der Retrospektive enthüllt Hustvedt die Lebensentwürfe der Freunde, deren Biografie nicht zuletzt durch die Schicksalsschläge ihrer Kinder eine unvorhersehbare Wendung nimmt. Am Ende bleibt nur die Kunst -- und eine Erkenntnis, dass am Ende allein die Erinnerung an die Liebe überlebt. Nacherzählt klingt das sehr kitschig. Was aber Hustvedt aus ihrer simplen Botschaft macht, ist überaus bemerkenswert. Hustvedt ist die Frau des postmodernen Erzählgenies Paul Auster, dem sie Was ich liebte gewidmet hat und mit dem sie in New York zusammen wohnt. Tatsächlich scheinen sich viele ihrer Erzählstrategien seinem Einfluss zu verdanken. Wie sie diese allerdings aufgenommen und weiter entwickelt hat, ist sehr beachtlich. Nicht zuletzt der Einfall, einen Erzähler des anderen (hier: männlichen) Geschlechts zu wählen (ein Einfall, der im Titel des Frauenaktes von Wechsler -- "Selbstporträt" -- in postmoderner Manier im Roman gespiegelt wird), ist überaus gelungen und konsequent umgesetzt. So ist Was ich liebte ein stringent erzählter Künstlerroman von hoher Eigenständigkeit geworden. Hustvedt ist eine nicht mehr ganz neue, aber in Deutschland unbedingt noch zu entdeckende Erzählstimme Amerikas. --Stefan Kellerer

A compelling, intelligent read with colorful details about art and the New York art world in the late 70s and 80s. ( )

Det är en bok pm vänskap, kärlek och svek men också om ensamhet och saknad. Karaktärerna är så levande och trovärdiga med alla fel och brister. Siri Hustvedt har ett underbart språk och driv i berättandet och skildrar känslor och relationer så naturligt och gripande. En fantastisk läsupplevelse som jag starkt kan rekommendera. ( )

Un historiador de l'art i un pintor inicien una profunda amistat que els unirà per sempre a ells i les seves famílies. ( )

REGAL IVET 20/11/18

Sovint els senyals s´han confós amb altres senyals, així com amb les coses del món que hi ha al darrere. Però els senyals icònics no funcionen com les paraules i els nombres, i el problema de la semblança s´ha de tractar sense caure en el parany del naturalisme. Mentre preparava el llibre, el quadre d´en Matt m´acompanyava sovint, com un petit recordatori, per ajudar-me a esquivar un tipus d´error filosòfic molt seductor. (pag77)

No era fam ni set, ni tan sols ganes de sexe. Era una necessitat vaga però irritant d´alguna cosa indescriptible i desconeguda que havia anat sentint de tant en tant des que era petit. Aquell any hi va haver unes quantes nits que em vaig trobar despert al llit, al costat de la meva dona, amb aquella buidor a la boca, i llavors me n´anava a la sala i m´asseia a la butaca de la vora de la finestra a esperar el matí. (pag 84)

Jo sabia que en certa manera en Teddy Giles i en Mark Wechsler eren uns dements, exemples d´una indiferència que molts consideren monstruosa i antinatural; però tampoc no eren tan excepcionals, i les seves accions eren típicament humanes. Equiparar l´horror amb allò que és inhumà sempre m´ha semblat tan còmode com enganyós, encara que només sigui perquè vaig néixer en un segle que hauria d´haver ofegat per sempre aquesta mena d´afirmacions. Jo trobava que aquell llum era el símbol no d´una manca d´humanitat, sinó d´un excés d´humanitat, de la fractura o el trencament que es produeix en les persones quan desapareix l´empatia, quan els altres ja no formen part de nosaltres i es converteixen en coses. ( )

I found this book completely brutal to read. The first section is fine--to much 3D art talk for me, but whatever. Then the beginning of section 2 is just awful. AWFUL. And then section3 is just nonstop painfulness.

As the wife and mother of two teen boys, this all just hits on every fear a parent has. I have had 2 good friends of young kids widowed in the last 3 years. I have dealt with adult sociopaths in my life--I cannot even begin to imagine parenting one (though I can't imagine what the kids i knew dealt with in being the kids of one either!).

So, yes. This book is brutal. I gave it 4 stars, but I didn't really like it. Too much art + too much grief + too much anxiety + too much stress + poor Leo, loosing everyone and everything he has ever loved over the course of a respectable, long-enough life. I feel like I know this poor man (there's the good writing) and cannot understand how both Erica and Violet can leave him behind. ( )

I liked this book a lot, and be warned, this review probably will contain spoilers because it would be difficult to write about this book without giving stuff away. This is the story of "what I love". Leo is our protagonist. He is a Jewish, New York Man who is a teacher, writer of art and he falls in love with the portrait titled 'Self Portrait' which is be Bill and the person in the painting is Violet. Leo was born in the thirties and his family came from Europe to escape what was happening in Germany. The author is Siri Hustvedt, from Minnesota, married to Paul Auster. Violet was from Minnesota and returned to visit family occasionally. She brought her step son to Minnesota to go through treatment at Hazelden.

Some say this is about love. I say it is about the past tense of love. Love lost. Leo loses his family of origin, he then loses his child and his wife. Next he loses his best friend Bill and in his loss he tries to replace love with Mark and Violet. And in the end, he loses his eye sight, so it can also be said that this book is about aging and in aging we lose those things we love as we move along. It is also about grief.

The story is also an interesting look at art and mental illness. I would say the author does an excellent job with mental illness both in the history research that Violet does on hysteria as well as Bill's brother Dan and antisocial personality disorders of Mark.

Rating: 4.25 ( )

Da jeg tog hul på Det jeg elskede, vidste jeg ikke, om jeg orkede det: Endnu en roman om kunstnere i New York. Er det tema ikke lidt slidt? Det er det måske, men som med alle andre temaer gør det ikke noget, når det behandles originalt, indlevende og med overskud. Alt dette har Siri Hustvedts roman, som ovenikøbet også er spændende.

Historien tager sin begyndelse, da kunsthistorikeren Leo Hertzberg møder den unge og endnu ukendte kunstner Bill Wechsler. Da Hertzberg som den første køber et af hans malerier, bliver det starten på et livslangt venskab, ligesom maleriet af en beskuer, en kvinde der bliver og en kvinde der forsvinder genfortolkes og fyldes med mening gennem hele romanen. Wechsler er gift med den nøgterne digter Lucille, mens Leo finder sammen med litteraturforskeren Erica. De fire hænger sammen, og parrenes sønner Matt og Mark bliver født med få måneders mellemrum.

Da drengene er små, forlader Bill Lucille til fordel for sin tidligere model Violet Blom – hendes skandinaviske Minnesotarødder minder om Hustvedts egen baggrund – er det faktisk kun en fordel. Violet er udadvendt og fuld af liv, mens Lucille er neurotisk og indadvendt. Nogle skønne år følger, hvor drengene følges ad, og hvor de fire voksne har succes i karrieren. Det gælder ikke mindst Bill, der går fra ukendt til feteret kunstner. Det er dette liv, Leo elsker. Og det er alt det, der igen skal tages fra ham.

Hvad og hvordan skal ikke røbes her, men Hustvedt skriver forrygende. Hendes metode beskrives faktisk meget godt i en af Leos refleksioner over Bills kunst: ”Sidst i marts begyndte Bill at arbejde igen. Det nye projekt begyndte med en kvinde og hendes baby i Greene Street. Jeg så hende også oppe fra vinduet i Bills og Violets lejlighed, men jeg ville aldrig have gættet på at hun skulle blive årsag til, at Bills kunst tog en helt ny drejning. Der var ikke noget exceptionelt ved det vi så, men jeg er efterhånden nået til den opfattelse at det lige netop var det, som Bille var ude efter – hverdagen i al sin kompakte udførlighed.” (s. 251)

Hverdagen i al sin kompakte udførlighed. Sådan er det at læse romanen. Man kommer helt tæt på personernes op- og nedture, og fortællingen bliver interessant, fordi den tegner et billede, der er så detaljeret, at man kan se dem og føle med dem. Og fordi det er kunstnere og intellektuelle bliver deres historie vævet sammen med kunst- og idéhistorie. Jeg var ikke mindst imponeret af de løbende beskrivelser af Bills kunstproduktion, som Hustvedt fremmaler så detaljeret, at man kan se værkerne for sig som selvstændige fortolkninger af den historie, som man sidder og læser. (På den måde – og kun på den måde – mindede bogen mig om Kortet og landskabet af Michel Houellebecq.)

Det jeg elskede er en langsom bog at læse. Sproget er mættet og fyldt med mening, men samtidig er det helt lige til, og jeg var begejstret for fortællerens evne til ikke at forudgribe senere hændelser. Hvert punkt beskrives som det opleves, ikke som det efterfølgende kan fortolkes. Og så er det en bog om at elske og at miste uden spor af fortrydelse. Nok er det hårdt at skrive om det, man elskede – men det ville jo være langt værre ikke at have noget elsket at skrive om. ( )

It's been a long time since a book engaged me on so many levels. The writing is lyrical, the pacing makes it hard to put down, the story has a clear arc along with embellishments that don't feel extraneous, the charachters and their ŕelationships are solidly drawn, and the register of emotional timbre is wide. An added bonus, for me, is the author's descriptions of her main characters' professional lives. We are dealing with highly educated people: artists, art historians, and cultural observers, and they bring a whole level of insight into the lives being lived in the story. I could easily pick it up and start again from the beginning. ( )

What I loved reads disconcertingly like a revival of the ageing-male-Jewish-New-York-professor novel meme of the fifties and sixties (Saul Bellow and co.). The narrator, art historian Leo Hertzberg, is recording a phase of his life in which he has lost or been rejected from just about every connection that he has invested emotional energy in: his wife and son, his close friend the artist Bill Wechsler, and Bill's son and two wives. And through an incurable eye disease he's even lost his ability to look at pictures other than in memory's eye.

But this isn't a novel about Leo. He's there as an observer and reporter, and as a kind of calibration standard for the normality of his reactions to the things that go on in his life. What we are interested in are all the other characters around him, who react to emotional stress in much more varied ways. Especially, the three main female characters and the artists Bill and Matt, who are all characterised to the reader chiefly through the projects they are working on, but also the mentally-ill brother and the teen-from-hell... Along the way, we get a certain amount of emotional bashing ourselves, as well as some fairly demanding discussions about aesthetics and the role of fashion in both psychiatry and the New York art world.

I didn't enjoy this quite as much as The burning world and The summer without men, but it's still a very impressive novel. ( )

Het gebeurt me zelden, maar dit boek heeft toch een emotionele snaar geraakt; nog dagen nadat ik het had neergelegd bleef het door mijn hoofd spoken. Het verhaal zelf is een mix van familietoestanden, huiselijk geluk en relatieproblemen, dood en psychose, en gaat op een bepaald moment zelfs over in een horrorverhaal. Dat klinkt banaal maar Hustvedts personages zijn mensen van vlees en bloed, met grote en kleine verzuchtingen, heel eigen psychologische ingesteldheden, onzekerheden en verkeerde inschattingen, en met een heel verschillende verwerking van tragische gebeurtenissen. Dat levert heel aandoenlijke, tedere momenten op, maar ook afschuwelijke ervaringen waarbij de emoties door merg en been gaan. Die emoties zijn soms zo doorleefd en rauw-realistisch dat het op het randje van het dragelijke is (ik moest geregeld aan Elana Ferrante denken).
Hustvedt heeft haar verhaal gesitueerd in het artistieke milieu in de jaren 80 en 90 in Soho-New York, een heel apart wereldje dat ze blijkbaar goed kent en waarmee ze ook gedeeltelijk afrekent. Af en toe resulteert dat in nogal zware, moeilijk verteerbare passages over de kunstwerken die Bill, één van de hoofdfigeren maakt, maar in zeker opzicht zijn die wel functioneel: net als de altijd zeer individuele interpretaties van kunst is het inschatten van het gedrag van andere mensen een hachelijke zaak. Want dat is zowat de sleutel tot dit werk: het beschrijft hoe onmachtig we zijn, hoe weinig greep we op ons leven hebben, en zelfs hoe slecht we de mensen die het dichtst bij ons staan (kunnen) kennen.
Toch is deze eerste grote roman van Hustvedt zeker niet perfect: de artistieke beschrijvingen zijn echt wel een taaie brok, enkele verhaallijnen lopen zonder veel verklaring dood, en het hele horrorverhaal beheerst het derde deel net iets te fel, zeker ook omdat het dan plots afbreekt en overgaat in de epiloog.
Maar desondanks heeft Hustvedt grote indruk op mij gemaakt. Dit is een intelligente, complexe roman die gaat over het leven in zijn vertederende en zijn afgrijselijke naaktheid. ( )

Kraft - og krefter til å følge kraften. Livets famlende start og så setter ting seg etter hvert - for så å gå i oppløsning. Bilder, installasjoner, rekvisitter i livet og i avbildninger av livet. To familier, to venner, to barn der ett liv blir til to, tre, fire og fem og for noen i uendelige versjoner. Kunst, liv, sykdom, jeg-et, kjærlighet, å se smerte, ektheten - og det vi VIL se.

Fascinating exploration of relationships and the "nature versus nurture" concept. I loved the complexity of the characters and the idea of how art can affect lives. ( )

This is an ugh/sigh/hmm book for me. I almost never read contemporary fiction as I find it too indulgent. Yes, the world sucks and relationships are difficult. People in unhappy marriages drive me crazy: do something, do something, change. Yet I was enthralled, I was captured by the horror of Mark, of finding in a character a trainwreck so similar to yet more alluring - because it was all fiction! - than the addicts and manipulators in my own life. For popular fiction, it was very gripping writing. I skimmed a lot of it so it shouldn't count toward my number this year, but I had to admit to this guilty pleasure/horror.

Wonderful. ( )

Je sors de cette lecture sous le charme, assez sonnée, un peu envoûtée et angoissée par cette histoire de famille, d'art et d'artistes, de couples, de mort - d'un enfant entre autre -, et de folie, de psychopathie même, dans laquelle le jeune Mark est totalement plongé.
Nous sommes à New-York, dans les années 70, dans un milieu intellectuel bourgeois et artistique, ce qui nous vaut au passage des réflexions sur l'art contemporain, son commerce, sur ce qu'est une oeuvre d'art..
Bill et Lucile, Leo et erika, deux couples amis qui vont être très proches, vivant dans le même immeuble. Bill est artiste, les autres protagonistes sont des écrivains, chercheurs, professeurs. Ils partagent beaucoup de choses, des garçons, Mark et Matthew, vont naître, un dans chaque couple, presque jumeaux. Vacances tous ensemble dans le Vermont, les deux jeunes garçons comme des frères. Jusqu'au jour où Matt meurt noyé durant un camp d'été.
Et petit à petit les choses vont se dégrader. Devant cette perte de leur fils, le couple va exploser. Bill et Lucille vont également se séparer et Violet va arriver dans la vie de Bill, s'occuper de Mark comme s'il était son propre fils, tout en étant témoin de la lente déchéance à venir de ce jeune garçon atteint d'un mal terrible : la psychopathie. Il va de plus s'entourer de personnes toutes plus perturbées les unes que les autres et vivre dans le mensonge, la violence, la négation totale de la réalité, faisant subir à son entourage une existence et un stress terrible.
Hallucinant de froideur glaçante et en même temps de beaucoup d'humanité.
Très beau roman, avec de splendides plongeons dans l'âme humaine, tourmentée, introspective, touchante. Tous les personnages de cette fiction prennent corps dans toute leur épaisseur et leur sensibilité et chacun d'entre nous, lecteurs, peut percevoir des bribes de ce qui est parfois caché au plus profond de nous.
Nous sommes témoins du temps qui passe, qui efface tout ce que nous aimions. Leo se retrouve au crépuscule de sa vie, seul, quasi aveugle. Sombre mais beau ! ( )

This is a hard book for me to review. I read Hustvedt's brand new book, The Blazing World last year and loved it so I've been looking forward to trying more of Hustvedt's work. What I Loved has a lot in common with The Blazing World; both books revolve around the contemporary art world and show Hustvedt's vast knowledge of art and literary scholarship. But where I thought this knowledge served the story well in The Blazing World, I ended up feeling like the long art descriptions and academic discourses disrupted the plot and made me dislike the pretentious characters.

[What I Loved] is told from the point of view of Leo Hertzberg, an art history professor who is looking back on his adult life. He starts his story with meeting a artist named Bill Weschler. Bill is unhappily married to Lucille and Leo is just married to Erica. The four become friends and both have sons around the same time. Bill ends up leaving Lucille for Violet, a woman he has used in his paintings. Leo and Erica embrace Violet as Lucille was always hard to deal with. The first part of this book is filled with their adult relationships and academic endeavors. It is the part that I found a bit pretentious.

The second part begins with a tragedy. Leo and Erica's son, Matt, dies in a boating accident while he's away at camp. This part of the book almost did me in. The way that Hustvedt writes about and dwells in grief was too intense for me. I had to put the book aside for a few days and seriously contemplated not returning to it. I suppose the realism says something positive about her writing but it was almost too much for me. I made it through the heart of that section though, and it got easier to read from there.

The third part focuses of Bill's son, Mark. Mark is a troubled youth - lying constantly, taking drugs, and in with the wrong crowd, including an adult artist who produces highly violent and graphic art and is something of a sensation in the art world. Mark's character is never fully revealed; it remains a bit murky whether he is evil at heart or has fallen in to the wrong crowd. The relationships between Leo, Bill, Violet, and Erica really have fallen apart by the end of the book, in part due to the tragedy in part 2 and in part due to Mark's behavior. (I'm being a bit oblique here to not give away some plot elements)

As I write about this book, I realize that there is a lot to think about here and that I did appreciate the quality of the writing and the ideas Hustvedt develops. Unfortunately, I didn't really connect with this book and found some of the plot elements too sad to let me enjoy the book. I also think I didn't really ever like Leo, which doesn't help in a first person narrative.

I will read more of Hustvedt's work, but wouldn't really recommend this one as a starting point. ( )

Siri Hustvedt's latest novel "The Blazing World" was the first I read. After this, she is fast becoming one of my favourite writers, and both books are potential classics. In a sense they are companion pieces, set in the New York art world and dealing with psychological theories and disorders.

This book takes the form of a memoir written by an aging man, an art historian looking back at his life, that of his best friend, an artist, the women they loved and their children. Hustvedt's ability to inhabit his mind is uncanny, and her characters are all fully realised, interesting and sympathetic.

Like another of my favourite writers, A.S. Byatt, Hustvedt has the ability to pack many disparate and sopisticated ideas into a story while retaining suspense and readability. ( )

This novel is an intense psychological study of each of its characters. In that respect, it bogged down for me. Reading it took time and concentration and a huge effort to keep going, the equivalent of a marathon road race. When you finally complete it, however, you feel as if you really accomplished something. Relationships are topsy-turvy and the partners are never really okay with the outcomes. Parenting skills suffer from an excess of over-caring. Does anyone come away unharmed? ( )

After I got the hang of this book, I could hardly put it down. What a great read.
There's so much going on in this book, that it would be unfair to write that it is about friendship. Yes, friendship is the start of the book as it is and it plays a big role in the book as a whole, but there is so much more.
Different kinds of love, betrayal, loss and grieving. There's so much here that I'm surprised this relatively thin book doesn't explode.

Despite I'll be starting a new book today, this one will linger on in the background for a while. Maybe I'll even try to get a hold of the Dutch version, to spread the word, so to say. ( )