A map that had a few extra accurate forks in the road, say. But I didn't, so after 3 miles of incorrect treks through a forest during which a small boy on a bike and a sunbathing woman finally pointed me on the right direction, I was cursing myself for clearly choosing the wrong VW Beetle-driving, loud-hymn-singing favorite poet.
Another curious fact for me was that this alternate path was littered with references to some dude named Josef Weinheber, an Austrian poet who is definitely the town's favored son.
So I now associate this rando, Weinheber, to a big Austrian suckerpunch. I feel this is also a good time to announce that I once had a Viennese lady on a flight tell me that the forests of Austria had no mosquitoes. A painful bite on my head would like to inform you that this is incorrect. More painful bites from rabid ants on my ankles would also like to attest to the fact that while perhaps not festering with mosquitoes, the Austrian forest is not a place you want to get lost on a hot afternoon.
Anyway, sunbathing lady pointed me down an overgrown forest trail that did, finally, lead to his house. And while Brigitte had not answered her phone, luckily her shirtless 15 year old son was happy to take a break from mowing the lawn in front of the trampoline to unlock "the museum. I also left my mark, in the form of a pool of sweat that fell to the floor as I was toweling off in the room. Also in the guest book where I noted that the last visitors had been there a week ago.
But still enough to warrant a sign down on the main village road. Sorry, I'm still traumatized and have lines of salt all over my leggings. Salt from the inside of my body excreted through my pores and dried onto my clothes like a Utah landmark. Everything about me smells bad right now. Anyway, after bidding adieu to my favorite Austrian teen, I headed to the church where he was buried.
This was a much easier prospect now that I had basically mapped out the whole village of Kirchstetten on foot. Need a map? Message me. Again this yahoo, Weinheber, was the main attraction, but Auden got a shoutout on the church entry map.
I like thinking of him going to church every Sunday and loudly singing hymns in this Catholic church, even though he was Anglican, in his slippers and sitting in his spot in the back. Since he did love it so much, I suppose it is appropriate that his grave is right behind the church and not even 10 meters from where he would have sat in the pew.
His grave is simple and full of plants. I like that it is full of so much life. Sadly, that life includes lots and lots of scary black biting ants and so my plan to pay homage with hours of loving reading and lunch with my sir was cut short and I poured a bottle of wine, that I had trucked in lovingly from Vienna, mostly on his grave, partly in my mouth, left him a memorial cigarette, and proceeded to the one bar, which Auden also frequented, to read some memorial verses with cheap, delicious Riesling and the many villagers who had just finished their workday.
The barmaid and the barman were both, in incomprehensible-to-me German, very happy to see me alive and said something to the effect of "it was there?! Julie, I happened upon your post about your pilgrimage W. This particular person is unknown because he is a complete conformist to social norms. The questions that the speaker refers to as absurd is whether or not he was free, or happy. The multivolume Complete Works of W. Auden was published in Auden is now considered one of the greatest poets of the English language.
Davenport-Hines, R. London: Heinemann, Hecht, Anthony. Cambridge, MA. Smith, Stan. New York: Blackwell, Toggle navigation. World Biography An-Ba W. Auden Biography W. Auden Biography. Early publications and travels In , when Auden was twenty-one, a small volume of his poems was privately printed by a school friend.
Poetic themes and techniques Auden's early poetry, influenced by his interest in the Anglo-Saxon language as well as in psychoanalysis, was sometimes riddle-like and clinical. User Contributions: 1. Ricardo O'Grady. Thank you, this was a great help in my research paper on W. Literary Norfolk. Literary Britain. Norfolk Photostream. Cameron Self Twitter. He was my North, my South, my East and West,. I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
Links The Auden Society.
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