Totholz, LOYAL, Malmö, 2011
JÜRGEN VON DÜCKERHOFF
The pine forest is located at the highest point of the Black Forest, and at that time in that area there was no village in a two hour radius, not even a hut, because superstitious people thought it was unsafe there. They also claimed that, so tall and glorious were the pine trees there, that often when the wood-cutters worked there, the trees fell over so quickly that they knocked the men over and hurt or even killed them. And that one must use even the most beautiful trees from that pine forest only for firewood, because the boat builders never took a piece of that pine wood, not even for a raft, for the story goes that “man and wood crash when pine meets water”. And so it was, that in the pine forest the trees were so thick and so high that during the day it was like night, and he felt it was very scary there, for he heard no voice, no steps except his own, no ax, even the birds seemed to avoid the dense pine night.
When the story came out, this Michel was nowhere to be found, but he is not dead. For a hundred years, his ghost has run through the forest, and it is said that he already had a lot of help to be rich, but at the expense of his poor soul, and I will not say more. But this much is certain, that he is still in the pine forest on those stormy nights seeking out the most beautiful pine trees that one should not cut.
Emotionally excessive love of order and attention to details of a so called “beauty” also provided for the ever and ever draining of living things. There it lay on the ground. Broken into small and micro parts, crumbled beyond recognition. A lightless soul coal pile. “This,” he replied, and handed him out of a drawer, “a heart of stone”. But no sooner had he said this, when Glass-man grew and swelled and was high and wide, and his eyes should were as big as soup plates, and his mouth was like a heated oven, and flames flashed out of it. He threw himself on his knees, and his heart of stone did not protected him, not from his limbs trembling like an aspen. With vulture talons the Forest Spirit grabbed him by the neck, swung him like a whirlwind of dry leaves, and threw him to the ground so that it cracked all his ribs! “Earth worm,” he shouted in a voice that rolled like thunder, “I could crush you if I wanted, for you have sinned against the Lord of the forest. But for this dead woman’s sake, she who has fed and watered me, I’ll give you eight days grace period. If you have not turned for the better, I will come and crush your bones, and you will go down in your sins.” /TOTHOLZ