On a Dark Night I Left My Silent House by Peter Handke

Excerpted from an article in Magill’s Survey of World Literature, Revised Edition

First published:In einer dunklen Nacht ging ich aus meinem stillen Haus, 1997 (English translation, 2000)

Type of work: Novel

The Work

On a Dark Night I Left My Silent House employs, in essence, two narrators—one telling the story to the reader, and the central character, an alienated pharmacist from the Salzburg suburb of Taxham. The strategy allows Handke to provide himself with ironic distance from the story even as he tells it. For example, the book’s narrator will occasionally interject an explanation from the protagonist, but the mere fact that information is presented to the reader in this form calls attention to the subjectivity of the perspective. Handke thus combines content that often seems absurd or surreal with a narrative form that calls into question the nature of “truth.” The reader is never completely certain whether the events being narrated actually occurred, if they are subjective interpretations of events that another observer might have described differently, if they represent the subconscious of the central character, or if indeed they are altogether hallucinatory.

The tale begins prosaically enough. The pharmacist leads a mundane existence in a nondescript suburban town. He has his distinguishing characteristics—he is an aficionado of mushrooms, for example—but he remains an unremarkable figure. Estranged from his wife, although they continue to share the same house, he leads an alienated but not altogether lonely existence. The first real event of the novel is an apparently random act of violence perpetrated against the pharmacist. He is rendered mute by a blow to the head, although it is never entirely clear whether the cause of his speechlessness is physical or psychological.

At an unimposing restaurant the pharmacist meets a former Olympic skier and a once-famous poet, and, without saying a word, becomes their driver for a vacation trip which takes the trio to an encounter with a widow, who attacks the pharmacist and becomes an object of fascination, and to meetings with the daughter of the poet (intentional) and the son of the pharmacist (completely random). After some time, the pharmacist ventures forth on his own into a dreamlike land described as Spain but bearing little resemblance to any geographical locale. Ultimately, he returns home, his life changed in apparently profound but nonetheless unspecified ways.

This is a difficult book: While it clearly touches on themes of alienation, longing, and impermanence, these readily identified motifs are not entirely fleshed out. The circumstances surrounding the long-ago departure of the pharmacist’s son, for example, are hinted at but never fully articulated. Similarly, the exact nature of the relationship between the protagonist and the widow lies tantalizingly just out of reach.

Handke has expressed his preference for art works that “almost move” the observer rather than works that actually do so; On a Dark Night I Left My Silent House is an example of that type of art. This work appeals more to the mind than to the heart; the structure and language of the book are at least as important as any empathetic characterization. Still, the psychology of the characters, especially of the pharmacist, remains key, and the reader is compelled to provide answers that the author does not.

Sources for Further Study

Booklist 97 (October 1, 2000): 322.

The Economist Review 345 (October 18, 1997): 14.

Los Angeles Times Book Review, November 19, 2000, p. 1.

Publishers Weekly 247 (October 30, 2000): 45.

World Literature Today 72 (Winter, 1998): 123.