Stanisław Lem received his first typewriter from his father before the war. For the decades to come, wherever he stayed, a long series of keyboard strikes and tapping could be heard from the crack of dawn. This is how all his works were created. Under the letters of Lem’s typewriter many secrets of the author’s writings and his original creative methods are hidden, where scientific journals, scraps of paper with notes, scepticism and refusing to answer the phone played an important role.
\n\n\n\n(An interactive typewriter, highlighted keys with appropriate letters start the audio in the player and transfer to a small pop-up with a fragment of sound transcript)
\n","post_date":"2021-08-10 12:12:30","post_title":"The writing workshop","fields":{"sections":[{"title":"","subtitle":"","content":"","layout":"A","Image":false,"image2":false,"audio":{"file":"","title":"","description":""},"popup":{"title":"","content":"","audio":{"file":"","title":"","description":""},"image":false},"books":false,"points":false,"wise_heads":false,"questions":false,"litery":[{"title":"Letter \"B\" – Bałwany (Snowmen)","content":"I read a lot of scientific articles, and every now and then it turns out that all this reading slowly begins to form into the frames and shapes of something that then becomes a work of science fiction. It might be a bit like modelling a snowman – a small snowball and then a bigger snowball, and then a bigger snowball, and if it is shapeless I smash it and start all over again.
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/b7f5dac9-e875-4f3e-ba8a-3943d8c8d393.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"The general rule is that I do not try. Of course, once I am working on a specific topic, I probably will have gathered together the relevant material. But until this happens, it’s like a cow being fed on lucerne, hay, etc. - I also ingest a lot of reading material; \"Trilogy\", \"Science\" and a whole lot of other magazines. I don’t read with the aim of writing something specific, I simply read in a totally disinterested way, out of a curiosity for what is happening in the world of science and current affairs. That said, the circumstances of a specific time somehow narrows the range of my peaked interest. This year I am lecturing at the Jagiellonian University – in the Faculty of Philosophy. I am giving courses on the cognitive theories of futurology, so of course, I’ve been brushing up on the subject. And my mind and work-pattern, because they are like a farm with crop rotation, are finding everything useful. In the latest \"Science\" magazine there are articles about the possibilities of creating new food products from bacterial protein. When I told my wife about this, she shuddered and said, “So now I'm supposed to eat bacterial schnitzels? That is utterly ghastly.\" But of course these possibilities are quite realistic. Surely, this brings to the fore ideas that that are either grotesque or humorous, or macabre. I don't really do anything about any of this. At most I can write it all down in a word or two. After some time these notations may prove useful to me in some completely unexpected literary context, but I am not able to predict any of it in advance. In a nutshell, I go about my business in a normal way. I do what interests me, I read a lot of scientific articles, and every now and then it turns out that all this reading slowly begins to form into the frames and shapes of something that then becomes a work of science fiction. It might be a bit like modelling a snowman - a small snowball and then a bigger snowball, and then a bigger snowball, and if it is shapeless I smash it and start all over again. In fact, it is a laborious and terribly boring process, boring for me as a writer, especially in the preparatory phase."},"letter":"B"},{"title":"Letter ‘C’ - Chaos","content":"I need this chaos. If I had everything spelled out impeccably, listed and put away in folders, etc., I would be afraid that this order would enter into the very core of what I write. And it would make the thing as rigid as beads strung on wires. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/c17588b0-a0ce-4b8a-93bb-778df59444a0.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Many years ago, at the beginning of my literary journey, I had a lot of notebooks, writing pads and other such things. I wrote down so-called nuggets of wisdom, some beautiful quotes, some statements by philosophers, and so on. But it turned out that there was very little to be gained from any of it. I just think about requirements that I cannot set for myself in terms of topics and tasks. I have to operate on the basis of what comes to mind, to be open to unexpected promptings. Of course we can call all this inspiration, but that's nonsense. It is not about inspiration, but about unexpected associations and clashes of concepts that suddenly turn out to be, or seem, fascinating to me. Usually, of course, after a period of reflection, after putting things on the long finger - when these musings have been put away - they turn out to be worthless. And sometimes - if they seem valuable or interesting to me - I try them out and this process usually lasts for a long time, months usually, sometimes even years. And as for the fact that I create in chaos - as if by happenstance - well, I have my own take on this chaos. Perhaps it’s fanciful, but I think I need this chaos. If I had everything spelled out impeccably, listed and put away in folders, etc., I would be afraid that this order would enter into the very core of what I write. And it would make the thing as rigid as beads strung on wires. And this element of disorder, unpredictability, without which an artistic thing has no reason to exist, would simply be lost. At least, that is how I feel about it. Perhaps everything I say makes no sense, that is, in the sense that I cannot say what the correct method of working for me is. But I am so used to this style of working that I cannot imagine that I would be able to work in any other way."},"letter":"C"},{"title":"Letter \"D\" – Dorobek (‘W’ Works)","content":"I do not measure it with the number of publications, but rather with an image of whether what I published has achieved a permanence. I would like to think that I am in some way irreplaceable; that if I had not been around, some things would not have been said. (PR, 1981)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/2a6ab910-66b5-4eff-8af0-ecfd3d0e9819.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Aleksandra Grabowska (PR): At this year's book fair in Frankfurt am Main, you were among the most popular Polish authors alongside the Pope and Czesław Miłosz. How do you feel about your works being in such lofty company?\r\n\r\nStanisław Lem: It was tremendously flattering. It’s happened to me several times in the last two years that I saw my books - at an exhibition in Vienna, for example - somewhere next to books with the smiling face of the Pope. I must say that it is all very gratifying. And as for Miłosz. I must say that I am not one of those people who just claps. I am one of those 30 writers who wrote to the Swedish Academy in early spring supporting Miłosz's candidacy for the Nobel Prize, with me adding that he towers above other poets. And at the time I thought to myself that there is a club of outstanding writers who have won the Nobel Prize and a club of outstanding writers who have not. And it is an open question as to which group one would like to belong. Now, fortunately, for quite some time, not so many people have been interested in me, be it at home or abroad. But of course, I am that sort of figure of fascination, a calf that has four heads and speaks English.\r\nAleksandra Grabowska (PR): Have you entered the perilous stage of having become a legend?\r\nStanisław Lem: That I could not say. \r\nAleksandra Grabowska (PR): Does the fact that you are famous not impress you?\r\n\r\nStanisław Lem: I would say this - perhaps I would dream of being a restorer, a Stanisław who restores literature, not only the one I write, but also a Stanisław who indicates a path, a direction, etc. These are my current concerns, after all. I have my own ledger, \"has\" and \"doesn’t have, what I wanted to do, what I tried, and what I have managed. And this \"has\" column is very modest, as I do not measure it with the number of publications, but rather with an image of whether what I published has achieved a permanence. I would like to think that I am in some way irreplaceable; that if I had not been around, some things would not have been said. That if I had not been born and written books, certain things in this age would not have been touched by words, brought to the fore, created, presented, published, publicised. Only that."},"letter":"D"},{"title":"Literka ‘E’ – Etapy pracy (‘W’ Work stages)","content":"This phase actually involves secretarial work, and a sense of being carefree – well, not completely carefree, you still have to be careful about what and how you write – but not having to focus and concentrate all the time comes as a certain relief. I love signing off with „the end” and putting copies in folders; and this is followed by an uneasy time when I can’t seem to come up with a title. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/25760ad9-c63c-41ad-9f94-a9e9d82b3ed8.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"My work stages can be summed up in the following way. It is bad at the beginning, it is not great in the middle and it is very bad at the end. I would say that the most enjoyable period is when I merge the notebooks somehow, combine them; and then I achieve a clarity. This phase actually involves secretarial work, and a sense of being carefree - well, not completely carefree, you still have to be careful about what and how you write – but not having to focus and concentrate all the time comes as a certain relief. I love signing off with \"the end\" and putting copies in folders; and this is followed by an uneasy time when I can’t seem to come up with a title. This has always my Achilles’ heel, it is often the case that the book is already finished, is with the publishers and about to go to print, but the title is nowhere to be found! And then there follows lots of moaning and groaning, leafing through dictionaries, interrogating my better half, hoping for some enlightenment from somewhere. But a title is always found. This is the nicest period. As long as the piece is finished and it seems quite good to me, then I am happy; but there are also some slight doubts that this or that could have been done better. I established a rule, for better or for worse, to not go back and make corrections. Even when it seems to me that I could somehow improve or develop something. I just don’t think it’s the right thing to do. I would only end up making changes over and over again so that for the rest of my life I would not write anything more, and that obviously would not do. It is like with children. Each child can be somewhat perfect and imperfect. It is the same with books - nothing is perfect. A wise philosopher, one of the Greeks, I think, said, that it is fitting that man, as a mortal being, should give birth to mortal creatures himself. Therefore, there is no reason why we, being so limited, should not create something that is also impaired in some way. So the books get published with all these shortcomings, and what can I do about that? Of course, you try to do your best, but then you see these flaws, that something could have been done better, that the plot was wrong, that something was amiss…. I just don’t go there."},"letter":"E"},{"title":" Letter ‘H – Humor (‘H’ Humour)","content":"Black humour suits me. In my work, I believe, it is revealed in the presentation of gloomy, unpleasant, and even sometimes terrible things; and in a way that exhausts neither myself or the reader. It is in this certain vein of humour, often acting as icing, which is coated on bitter pills that are to be swallowed. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/0ff5fdd9-b3d7-4713-bb42-dae1d84f9387.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Bertrand Russell, the celebrated philosopher who wrote The History of Philosophy, was so vicious, mocking and sneering that his peers refused to acknowledge his achievement with respect of the book he wrote. His attitude towards the so-called middle ages, the Catholic Church, his malicious attitude towards the papacy is plain for all to see. What is more, his animosities towards some philosophers and his favouring of others were so clearly revealed that The History of Philosophy could not be considered as an objective work. Yet Russell, in turn, believed - and I think he was right about this, that to a greater or lesser extent everyone has a predilection for one thing or the other; and they simply hide it. Russell hid nothing. I am of the impression that literary work is a pleasant field of activity, where a writer does not have to hide their views. They do not have to disclose an objective mishmash of facts: strained, sterile, with no pepper, salt or spices. Writers have the full right to present their relations with all facts, both real and imaginary; and that is why there must be elements of mockery, malice and irony. Writing such things, I admit, amuses me, and over time I have become familiar with my own forte, which is the creation of various humorous fictional expressions, creating the impression that certain objects, certain problems, certain matters exist to such an extent that they have been imprinted in the existing language and have their linguistic counterparts; that they are listed in dictionaries. Black humour suits me. In my work, I believe, it is revealed in the presentation of gloomy, unpleasant, and even sometimes terrible things; and in a way that exhausts neither myself or the reader. It is in this certain vein of humour, often acting as icing, which is coated on bitter pills that are to be swallowed."},"letter":"H"},{"title":"Letter ‘K’ - Karteczki Notes (‘P’ Pieces of paper)","content":"When some ideas come to mind, I write them down on small pieces of paper and place them on my desk. And then, when I look at one of these notes three weeks later, I don’t understand what it meant at the time, what it was about, and what I was thinking about. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/8b0d1567-48e4-4150-8910-5dfd492ccac1.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Recently I have developed a method that when some ideas come to mind, I write them down on small pieces of paper and place them on my desk. At this very moment, the desk is weirdly tidy, but it is the exception to the rule. Normally, there is an awful mess to be found here with bundles of manuscripts or mountains of typescripts. And about once every month or two, I do a huge inventory, gathering all those scraps of paper with the ideas. I generally find myself underwhelmed, however; and I usually can’t make head nor tale of what I jotted down in the first place. Quite simply, taking aside such laconic writing, the moment an idea comes to my mind, I find it so obvious and understandable that I note it down in just three words. And then, when I look at it three weeks later, I don't understand what it meant at the time, what it was about, and what I was thinking about. And then this kind of thing has to crumpled up and thrown into the wastepaper basket. "},"letter":"K"},{"title":"Letter ‘M’ - Męka twórcza (‘O’ Ordeal)","content":"The writing itself is a very boring and tiring effort. These are, of course, attempts at escape, to think of some kind of activity, to do something urgent in the basement, to screw a socket to the wall, to wash the car. But I know from experience that there is no other way. You have to force yourself; to be ruthless and strict with yourself, otherwise nothing will ever get done. (PR, 1974, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/655fbecc-f739-45fd-9e65-e6085f0a8cc4.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"In the pages of the journal Kultura I read that I was a kind of computer programmed in such a way that everything flies from my fingertips with the greatest ease. Well, I have never denied any of this. On the one hand, the issue in the article is completely unclear, because it is not known whether writers should exhaust themselves or not. And in any case, who cares whether they write a story over the course of a day or a year, whether they pour sweat, blood, and tear into the effort. This idea of the ordeal is important to me as I’ve tried countless approaches over the years. For example, specifically in this matter, I made the following efforts: I read Sienkiewicz’s Trilogy meticulously, and, having imbibed its style, tried to do something that responded to the work - I am talking about the purely linguistic layer. But the results looked like a pastiche and an imitation of Sienkiewicz. Then I tried to fill it with some other type of Polish, reviewing the semi-fictitious, historically speaking, linguistic layer that Boy-Żeleński had created in his translation of The Lives of the Frivolous Ladies. This didn't help either. And if I started listing to you all my futile attempts at finding a language that would fit really well to my ear, we would end up being on the airways for the rest of the day. After that, I tried to approach it from a different perspective, and each time I was very dissatisfied with the results. So I have no way of proceeding other than, to put it simply: by ear. So when I start writing; and after a while I find that it sounds bad, I just throw it away. In a word, I have to try, and to test. I have to confess, I do all this countless times, until at some point I feel that the gears have clicked, and that the wheels have started to spin; and I think there is some a chance of moving forward. And that's still not a certainty, because at some point it can all fall apart. When these elements are combined into a certain whole and a work emerges – and from the point of view of my abilities, what has been written is achievably unsurpassable, then it changes from one moment to the next. Anyway, I do not know present this in a discursive rational way with criteria and so on. I don’t have a ready formula to hand, and even if I did, I wouldn’t reveal it on air. My colleagues listening in today would only be tempted to indulge in plagiarism. Well, putting all humour aside. I do not have any formula and I think it is very good that I do not have any, because I think that all works, not only literary ones, would be boring if there were formulae for everything. Because of this, each rewriting is a terrible ordeal. The writing itself is a very boring and tiring effort. I must say that when I write, I often think that I could be doing something else. These are, of course, attempts at escape, to think of some kind of activity, to do something urgent in the basement, to screw a socket to the wall, to wash the car – during such moments, I suddenly remember a thousand things that I could be getting on with. They are all the desperate actions of an unhappy mind that is enslaved by the work and is overwhelmed by lethargy. But I know from experience that there is no other way. You have to force yourself; to be ruthless and strict with yourself, otherwise nothing will ever get done."},"letter":"M"},{"title":"Letter ‘N’ - Nauka (‘S’Science)","content":"In general, most authors do not rely on scientific data for the simple reason that it is often quite alien to them. On the other hand, it is difficult to reconcile the imperatives of science with the requirements of the science-fiction canon, which includes, for example, traveling faster than the speed of light – this is contrary to the laws of physics! (PR, 1984)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/83c2d081-6379-4008-b0ae-65a7e2d1ad1e.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Journalist PR: What is the importance of science for you as an author of science-fiction novels?\r\n\r\nStanisław Lem: It is, so to speak, the soil that I am rooted in. Since soils are different and plants are different, just as, let us say, the colour of flowers does not depend on what soil they grow in, and by the same token, what I write is in a way determined by the soil or the soil of science. However, it is not predefined by the material resources that I use.\r\n\r\nPR journalist: But do authors who write this type of literature always have a reliable attitude to what science has to say?\r\n\r\nStanisław Lem: Well, that depends. In general, most authors do not rely on scientific data for the simple reason that it is often quite alien to them. One would have to live life in a very ascetic, even Benedictine manner, in order to keep abreast of scientific discovery, whilst also trying to hone a literary craft. So, science fiction writers often draw on second-hand information, or simply let their mind wander. These are the fantasies of someone who knows that the cosmos, stars, probably some cosmic civilizations and rockets exist, but who has no intention of doing the hard work of bringing it down to the level of scientific data. Many people do not consider it advisable and sometimes they write very valuable and interesting fables; but they remain just that, fables.\r\n\r\nJournalist PR: So do you mean to say that you belong to the second group of the science-fiction writers?"},"letter":"N"},{"title":"Letter ‘P’ Postacie (‘P’ Protagonists)","content":"it is simply impossible to build all characters out of thin air. All writers use some details that they owe to their knowledge of real people. However, these features can be reshuffled, somehow redrawn, simplified. Some alchemical operations are performed due to the needs dictated by what is being written. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/415df022-0850-449c-af94-1c54b750a310.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"When it comes to, for example, the issues covered in my books, they are real in a fundamental sense. That is, I am not interested in the kind of facts which will always be fictitious, that they will never be a part of human existence in any way. These are the kind of things that I consider to be an imaginary zone, a fictional zone, an extrasensory zone, telepathy, and so on. This I can at best make the subject of a playful, humorous or grotesque narrative, but they cannot be regarded as being true. And when it comes to portraying people, characters, protagonists, life adventures, it is very different. Sometimes, but rarely, in the novels, I tried, half-jokingly, to build a character from my knowledge of a specific person. But that doesn't seem entirely relevant to me. This is extremely clichéd because it is simply impossible to build all characters out of thin air. All writers use some details that they owe to their knowledge of real people. However, these features can be reshuffled, somehow redrawn, simplified. Some alchemical operations are performed due to the needs dictated by what is being written. But that is a separate matter. Another issue is the problem of the work as a whole, and of the characters appearing in this work. This is an extremely individual matter. I would say that in this, the only modern novel that I have written, there is not a single character that is even fragmentarily taken from reality, from my experience. All the psychiatrists, all the sick people, from the first to the last, all Germans who feature in this cycle, are the fruits of my imagination. They are an absolute invention; they have no real prototypes, only the time and the era of occupation is real. I made up the characters. That’s how it went. Why, I don't know. They are just the facts of it."},"letter":"P"},{"title":"11. Letter ‘R’ Racjonalna wyobraźnia (‘R’ Rational imagination)","content":"I believe that uncontrolled, free-flowing literary production is dangerous, as the writer risks becoming a literary hack. I have to make sure that the rationality level of all these concepts is as high as possible. Because otherwise it all become a morass of nonsenses. It is imperative that I remain a sceptic. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/e6e25a9a-2447-48b1-8357-15919b47d694.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"I realize that many people think that I should - because I write novels and so-called science fiction - follow the world of, say, eccentrics, and even the unbalanced. This seems nonsensical to me. On the contrary. I remember that many years ago a friend of a psychiatrist made such an experiment involving me and another friend, Jan Józef Szczepański. We were exposed, under medical supervision, to hallucinogens that produced hallucinations. And you would have thought that I, in particular, would have been prone to hallucinations, but I turned out to be entirely immune. I believe that uncontrolled, free-flowing literary production is dangerous, as the writer risks becoming a literary hack. The trick, however, is to meticulously filter out everything that is either absorbed from the world or that which pops into your head. There must be balance between a very high level of so-called technical control over a product and the principle that is fashionable today, \"I do not let go of anything\". I have to make sure that the rationality level of all these concepts is as high as possible. Because otherwise it all become a morass of nonsenses. It is imperative that I remain a sceptic. This is the professional approach that must be taken."},"letter":"R"},{"title":"Letter ‘S’ Słowa (‘W’ Words)","content":"When I want to create the impression of a special familiarity towards people from the future; or some other phenomenon, I would try to introduce a word that sounds like a root word that has been used in the language for a long time. (PR, 1977)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/c13b1573-ac7d-4b3b-956e-ebd00a6fb1f6.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"The meaning of neologisms in a literary text is very closely related to the whole of this text, and of course the whole to which this text belongs. A completely different kind of neologism can be used in a text that is humorous, ironic, grotesque, and a completely different neologism must be used for a serious work; let's say a science fiction novel that pretends to come from the language of the future. Then it should not evoke comic associations, neither succinctly nor sonically. Of course, these are very different things. Let us say, in some of my grotesque stories, someone is talking to a man who has been thrown to his knees; and this man also happens to have a big nose. This \"nosey kneeler\" is obviously a neologism, because the word \"kneeler\" does not exist in Polish, it is used in a similar fashion to the word \"teacher\"; so for most Poles this would be regarded as quite humorous; but would be unacceptable in a serious text. On the other hand, when I want to create the impression of a special familiarity towards people from the future; or some other phenomenon, I would try to introduce a word that sounds like a root word that has been used in the language for a long time. For example, let’s take a device such as a robot that explores the surface of a planet and is also controlled remotely by an astronaut. And this astronaut directs the movements of this robot. I would call it - or maybe I have already called it somewhere, I don't recall - \"zdalnik\". \"Zdalnik\" is an object that is controlled remotely. The word doesn't quite explain itself, but in the context of the whole piece it certainly translates well and has a familiar ring to it. In a way, it is more familiar than the word \"airvehicle \", which nobody uses because it has been replaced by the word \"airplane”. In a word, in such situations I try to create neologisms based on Polish roots, because this approach seems more appropriate to me."},"letter":"S"},{"title":"Letter ‘T’ Telefony (‘T’ Telephone calls)","content":"The bangs and screams do not bother me. However, I admit that I do prefer peace and quiet. I am disturbed by a constant fear, however, which is quite real and justified, that there will be a telephone call at any time, and that there will be a second call. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/c21cd762-cc6e-4f54-b06f-f2ab55fcfeb9.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"The bangs and screams do not bother me. I have a son who is under seven, and the games he enjoys with his friends at the door of my room are sometimes very noisy. Of course, it's not that I want noise, but it doesn't bother me to the point of preventing me from doing my work. However, I admit that I do prefer peace and quiet. I am disturbed by a constant fear, however, which is quite real and justified, that there will be a telephone call at any time, and that there will be a second call. Indeed, it often happens that I start to write one sentence and, without reaching a comma, I have to get up to go the phone. I go back to the typewriter and I find that I can't finish the next sentence, because there's been yet another call, and sometimes the moment calls for a despairing act, like pulling the phone cord out of the wall. So these kinds of things bother me, which is understandable, because when I can't finish a sentence, it's like someone grabbing at my hands."},"letter":"T"},{"title":"Letter ‘W’ Wybór (‘C’ Choice)","content":"And why science fiction and not any other genre of literature? I have published twenty titles and acquired some level of craftsmanship. And you can say that maybe like Baron Münchhausen, who pulled himself out of the mud by his hair, it all comes easier with time, and suddenly you’re a professional writer. (PR, 1984, 1996)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/f67d897a-0067-4b7a-8da0-57fd857f2fdb.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"Since I am writing about science fiction and futurology, I have had to study my own writing with the same eye as an entomologist who observes little flies. With a cold eye. First of all, I found that I, in some abbreviated way, repeated the historical development of science fiction with my own work (which began with Astronauts). Starting from visions rather focused on describing wonders and technical inventions, and ending with matters that revolve around moral threats, war and peace, and threats to humanity; so primarily around the problems of earthly culture. And the problems of civilization in the technical sense seem to be playing second fiddle in the background. And why science fiction and not any other genre of literature? I really have no idea anymore. I always enjoyed such books and reading such things. And not wanting to overly explain myself, I am just looking for a way to express something that I find hard to put into words. I have published twenty titles and acquired some level of craftsmanship. And you can say that maybe like Baron Münchhausen, who pulled himself out of the mud by his hair, it all comes easier with time, and suddenly you’re a professional writer. There is really nothing that can be answered in a meaningful sense about it, because the general question does not concern the issue of science fiction. Broadly speaking every topic is fantastical. Anna Karenina did not exist, just like my heroes did not exist, and neither did Sherlock Holmes, so basically every author is making something up."},"letter":"W"},{"title":"Letter ‘Z’ Zaczynanie na nowo (‘S’ Starting afresh)","content":"For example for me it is like a jump over the high-bar. You cannot stop the jump halfway and then restart from the point where the jump went wrong. You just have to go back to the starting point, do the run-up, and jump again. For this reason, I always have to have a few thousand sheets of blank paper to hand, because writing a 30-40 page piece requires the burning and destroying of some 500-600 sheets of paper. (PR, 1975)
\n","audio":{"file":"https://static.prsa.pl/1e64530e-5ba7-412c-ad71-a0a6de88e5df.mp3","title":"LISTEN","description":"When it comes to the core writing phase, I write over and over again, toss out draft after draft, and start afresh every time. Never crossing anything out, never repeating anything, never bothering with small fragments. If a thing does not write well at once - and it has no hope of ever being written well, and I know it – then I have to start all over again. And again and again, wasting incredible amounts of paper. For this reason, I always have to have a few thousand sheets of blank paper to hand, because writing a 30-40 page piece requires the crumpling up of some 500-600 sheets of paper. Because I always type everything, it is very laborious… and tedious. I do be appalled at my own wasteful attitude; and the wasting of my own time, paper and resources. Well, but I can't do anything else. I have worked out a few such analogies. For example for me it is like a jump over the high-bar - you cannot stop the jump halfway and then restart from the point where the jump went wrong. You just have to go back to the starting point, do the run-up, and jump again. I do the same - every time, I start fresh, without exception. And I have incredible amounts of such fragments, dead-ends, unfinished and abandoned typescripts, and I am completely helpless when it comes to them. Sometimes, but it's more the exception than the rule, I happen to find an opening in a section that I‘m writing that matches some old, abandoned and unfinished things. But this is rather the exception to the rule. The rule is that these things are huge archives - let's describe them that way, because they could just as easily be called a garbage can for shredded paper. You just write it all down and then you can't find the ending. It is such a fragmentary, unfinished thing that I can’t come back to it anymore; because it is largely related to a certain mood and a psychological aura. I am unable reconstruct this aura later. And sometimes, if I read some old fragments in these piles of old papers, they sound like things that are completely foreign to me, which surprises me in terms of their strangeness. I don't know where they came from, or why I wrote them. I have this gift, for better or worse, of completely forgetting the things that I have written down. Well, of course, when it comes to a book that has had many editions, and also translations, I remember them for the purposes of authorization and proofreading; because I am contractually obliged to comply with certain conditions, to keep an eye on the text etc. For this reason, I never forget my books. But when it comes to unsuccessful things, even though I spent a lot of effort on them, I completely forget about them. And then they have the capacity of surprising me enormously."},"letter":"Z"}]}],"audio":{"url":"https://static.prsa.pl/58fc2666-2e75-4724-adc5-7477225dd4ce.mp3","title":"Lem about writing (PR, 1975)","description":"More than once people have asked me to what extent I benefit from the fact that I live in Kraków, in the shadow of its venerable old walls, and whether I could imagine myself writing elsewhere. I always reply that I could write anywhere. I just need a room with lots of books. I also need paper, a typewriter, and nothing much else. Once I have all these things I do not care where I am. Of course, if it were -15 degrees in the room, my ears would freeze, and then my fingers would be numb on the typewriter’s keys. And if I were very hungry, then I would be thinking of food and not composition. So when the minimum living conditions are met, with an absence of cold, hunger and ailments, then I am a content writer. I also admit that when I am writing something, I try to write the first draft in the same place. It would be difficult for me to start something in, say, Zakopane, and then to flesh it out in Kraków. I would prefer to write the whole thing in either Zakopane or Kraków. I don't cope well with changing environments, so I avoid making things difficult for myself. But having said that, once the first draft has been completed, then it really doesn’t matter where I am. I can quite literally be anywhere. (PR, 1975)"}},"post_thumbnail":false}}},"staticQueryHashes":[]}