and resentment, in the end, coughing from the Oracle. From deep Inside his bones. You is completely amazed at what a physical depth of this man sitting in front of a as his own decal: pale face, thin hair, washed-out look. Michel Houellebecq acts in Public is always a bit like the Treasurer of a small garden club at a Swingers Party.

There was a time when he is gestromert in Paris always on such events. No environment can be shabby enough boxes for this ethnographer, whose area of research is the drabness of the Modern. About Anything-shirt, he is wearing one of his legendary jeans shirts. Maybe it’s the denim shirt. Maybe there is only one, can be good, because this shirt is pretty stained. To identify toothpaste, Mayonnaise, hard – also it will have the criticism to bend, because of Michel Houellebecq, everything is now characters, difficult to interpret, however, because purposely he blurred into a Shimmer of irony, shyness and provocation.

After the attacks in Paris, Houellebecq insult against France’s politicians

On the day of publication of his new novel “The submission” shot and killed the Islamist terrorists of 17 people in France. Since then, he is regarded as a Prophet. Where does he get his views? Houellebecq looks friendly and tries to remember. You have to keep the prophets in the eye, otherwise he could disappear – transparent spirit beings. But what Spirit is? What is that? Suddenly, the writer’s stomach growls loudly and clearly. Interesting, the physical Scenes of this Oracle. It growls and creaks out of him. In front of him a plate with cut cells. But he ignored the food, fishing a new cigarette from his shirt pocket, practically a denim shirt. Then he says the Inspiration for this book he got from personal experience.

“I was at the time, with a well-Known,” he recalls. “Very pretty girl, very sexy.” He tastes the word “sexy”. To report Houellebecq-exegetes know that he has artificial teeth, something bad sitting. This may explain that the word “sexy” actually sound attaches Lich flesh, which sounds very sexy. And so you understand that this run-down and ragged, but gentle and tender man can be very attractive, but, but. His girlfriend just looked at Cologne.

“Sexy”. His voice hovers transparently in the light of the Cologne-based publishing offices, then they subside. Silence. Five seconds, ten seconds. In the mind’s eye one sees a mini-skirt in the Parisian Wind. Made of fabric, as fine as the echo of Houellebecqs voice. You have a lot of time to dream during a conversation with the Oracle. It traces his thoughts on his cigarette, chews with relish on the Filter, which is somewhere deep in his cheek pocket.

Sleep,

bite Then this voice comes again, sexy girl: “she complained that she would be harassed in your neighborhood of immigrants.” Houellebecqs view is compacted. Inquiringly he looked at us, past his thick, boxer’s nose, to be quite combative now. His technique: put down the rabbit, then bite. “I told her: ‘Then devouring the eggs yourself!'” He lurks, whether the provocation attacks, Yes, work, satisfied, he continues: “This came out very spontaneously from me. That’s when I realized that I had accepted that it must disguise itself to get into Trouble.”

Voilà. So it looks to the world. The Goncourt-prize-winner in 2010, was islamised. That was the key experience for his novel. From this he has developed the plot of his political Satire: France in the year 2022. In the case of the presidential election, Front National and the party of the Muslim brotherhood, head-to-head, the extreme-right. In order to prevent the victory of the National Front, ally themselves to the bourgeois parties with the Muslim brotherhood. The new President introduces Sharia law: women must Sexgespielinnen to the stove, teaching, and research Islami be magnetized, professors get 14-year-old.

Interview, the “submission” Edgar Selge about stage fright, Bühnensex and a jail childhood By Malte Herwig

Houellebecq says he think that is a very moderate Islam. The Muslim communities in France are outraged. Religious scholars accuse him of fueling tabloid Fears and to play with clichés. Houellebecq draws a tired, opportunistic, France, the throws himself willingly to Islam. This country is ruled by a political caste that has abandoned all Ideals. Long, writer abroad has lived, in order to pay less taxes. As he moved back to France, surprised him the most, how much people despise their political representatives.

The tax refugee is in apocalyptic mood: The whole democratic System had completely failed, he says. The loungers on the National Front. The hour of the extreme Right were hardly represented in the Parliament. There is only very few members, even though many people voted for the National Front. And there’s the classic Conservative would never use the extreme Right to form a coalition, it could well be that the Left come to Power. Although they represent fewer and fewer people are animals. Houellebecq into chuckles nastily and says: “The people send politicians to Power, you don’t actually want to.”

is the author of the extreme Right?

Now there are many ways to approach Houellebecq. You could put the layers of Meaning of his legendary Parkas-free, or his Self-stylization of the Dandy analyze the refuses of the beauty and terror of capitalism, and to the icon of the ugliness of weather. Since Houellebecq is now, however, the National Front, a key position in his analysis of society, we decide to explore its relationship with the extreme Right.

Houellebecq captures diffuse Fears, sermon behind the mask of his Roman staff the Renaissance of Patriarchy, castigates liberalism, feminism, the enlightenment, and the ‘ 68-movement, all of which have brought nothing more than a narcissistic amusement company and consumerism. He shows a man who wanders disoriented in the Modern age, because all of the binding cultural identity was dissolved, the traditional values have been shattered. For these nihilists nothing more than Depression and cynicism.

Like its author, hums and growls of this novel inside and whispers: If the West does not fill his Emptiness quickly, he will eat from Islam. Culture war! The chief of the French daily newspaper “Libération” accused the author of making the theses of the extreme Right socially acceptable, and wrote: “Houellebecq keeps you warm Marine Le Pen, the space in the Café Flore.”

So move out and in with: “Monsieur, when the National Front is the key to your understanding of French society, then you know now but also like your attitude to him.”
“I have no attitude to him,” he says.
“What do you think about this party?”
“I would never answer such a question.”
“Why not?”
“a matter Of principle. I hate writers who want to tell people what they should do or not. This is very rude to the reader. The people should choose what you want.”
“Makes the Front National fear of, or sympathize with him?”
“, I reply, never to such questions.”
“Because you want to play with them in peace with his subjects, and his values?”
“The values that I defend, are Catholic values. The Pope would defend these values.”
“Not only is the. Also a Charles Maurras, leader of nationalist France, Ultra-Right-wing of the twenties, tempered later with the Nazis.”
“I’ve never read.”
“Would you agree, would you call them a Erzreaktionär?”
“no. A Reactionary is someone who would like to return to a previous state. But that is impossible.”
“It appears in her novel a longing for an earlier era: small business structures, intact family, order, reliable values.“
“right.”
“you can play with the blur of political values and leave everything behind a veil of irony are blurred, in order to provoke.”
“not at All. I Express my political positions very clear.”
“well, on a New: what is your attitude to the Front National?”
“I will answer no questions that do not interest me. You ask me to direct democracy, then you get a response. I choose the questions I answer. Direct democracy by Referendum is a good thing.”

at Least Houellebecq emerges from its lethargy. The dispute conversation is him the elixir. With shoo, thin, pretty fingers, he turns a strand of his thin hair to fine Rasta-wattle, to feel his thoughts – a Lemur who has taken a chill pill to much. He is only held in place by his thoughts. The exchange of words is over, loose it again and sinks into apathy.

“Serotonin” Michel Houellebecq: the hormones of happiness instead of a provocation, Reuters

In his book he draws a tired, decadent country that throws up involuntarily. However, since the attacks in France shows solidarity, seems to be closely integrated. On the Sunday after the attack on “Charlie Hebdo” and a Jewish supermarket, 3.7 million French people took part in Republican marches part. And although Houellebecq is not from Pathos, to touch, to have him moved this million, he says.

he’s Hanging around on the values of the French Republic? Him with a contemptuous “Pfff says,” then he says: “The Republic! You know that France existed before the Republic and will exist afterwards.“ The people demonstrated for freedom of expression, he says. A Wake-up call for the drooping of France, had not been.

Houellebecq keeps the French Republic can survive. Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité – for him, just empty words. A society without Religion is not for him to function. The values are in need of a Foundation. Even the French Revolutionaries would have understood that. From 1793 to 1794 they had demolished churches and priests murdered. Then an artificial Religion invented the “cult of the Supreme being”. Under Napoleon, they would have arranged themselves in 1801, with Catholicism. The separation of Church and state, will today defends, Houellebecq, it is only since 1905.

He is now in his Element, quoting Auguste Comte, breaks between questions, would like to follow a thought through to the end. There is such a thing as a communication with this man, and actually seems to be possible.

freedom scares him

He insists: A society cannot be based on bare reason. Pure freedom was not desirable. Him anyway, they do fear. Depth freedom means loneliness: Who wants to be free, had to renounce all ties. Who could? He would only throw to like a Religion. Since the death of his parents, he has abandoned his atheism. He describes himself as Doubting, as an agnostic. He would like to believe – if only it wasn’t so difficult.

On the question of whether he was a happy man, he must laugh. Times, times, he says. After all, he need only a single hard drug, to reality, to endure: cigarettes. And Alcohol, Monsieur? The use of he as a soft drug. Of course, the could be a hard drug. But so far, he has not yet. For an alcoholic, he does not believe.

That he has the Image of an alcoholic, he doesn’t care. About his body he doesn’t want to talk now. He finds that he is in pretty good shape. And actually: really bad he looks. He must be very take a bad picture. Or to present himself willingly for a Dandy of decay, an icon of nihilism. He had never looked in the mirror, he says. Because it would make him nothing, that his face was disintegrated in the last few years. But actually, he think, that we remove arg from the topic.

we can’t Find. And say flötend, that he may lead his own body, quasi-Messiah will be equal to the field of battle of his nihilistic art, the themes of his texts were inscribed in his body and his state of health belong, therefore, to the topic, and anyway with all the relationships, especially with him.

As Michel Houellebecq, who is the veil in front of his eyes tears, his gaze is drilling, and he speaks with a deep fervor of his creed: “everything is connected with Everything? I’m from the absolute opposite of convinced,” he says, and the thin voice is now very strong. “I am convinced that nothing hangs together. Nothing to do with anything. Never!”

The time is up. Outside of publishing, the security personnel are waiting for the next call. The luminous Houellebecq goes out again. Everything that comes now – Small Talk, appointment calendar, food, bored him to the marrow. But he will graduate with shy courtesy. So out comes most easily out of the mess. Houellebecq is lost in the glass building of the Cologne-based publishing house. A puppet that waits for you in the next conversation, the next novel, the next Performance, where they are then again, even the threads in the Hand nehmen.

The Text was published in January 2015 in the star.

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