Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass

‘It is part of my existence to be the parasite of metaphors' writes the author in the very short story Loneliness. He has a point. This entire collection of short stories is riddled with metaphor. Riddled? For all I know maybe it is all just metaphor. It has also been a challenge for me personally.

This collection, to me anyway, is a heady mix of the metaphor with childlike fantasy and delirious dreaming that seemingly mixes the authors life memories/observations that cover his childhood through to the fear of old age and all the trials and tribulations in between. Something like that anyway.

Did I like this collection? Mostly yes but sometimes no. The highs had me rereading, taking in the dreams and the metaphors, even laughing inside. The final few lines of The Old Age Pensioner were sadly amusing as an example of that inner laugh.


Spring, the longest of the tales is amazingly surreal. It is so compellingly odd I am hardly capable of describing it. Under normal circumstances I would not be that attracted this style of prose but I actually reread it such was that attraction.
My Father Joins the Fire Brigade is weirdly hilarious. Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass is weirdly sad and also very dark for that matter.
The Old Age Pensioner also covers the hilarious. It may also cover the demented sadness of old age and if so that puts my thoughts of hilarity in its place.
Loneliness? The title of that short work speaks for itself.

The interesting part of finishing this book has been my research into the author. Among other things he has little output. Only 2 books and I have apparently read the wrong book first. He was an artist; my copy has some of his really wonderful line drawings. He seemingly received little attention until after his terrible murder at the hands of the Nazis. There now seems a plethora of books, internet sites etc. dedicated to him. Even a couple of eminent writers, Roth for example, have made mention of him in their own work. He has had a film made from his works that is considered a Polish masterpiece of cinema.

So why have I only given him 4 stars (3.5 if I could)? Because at its best this collection is outstanding but when not at its best I have to admit it is a bit above my tiny little mind, I just don't get it. Also I have wondered at times if Schulz was consuming mind altering substances while writing all this crazy metaphor. On the other hand that thought may say more about me.