Dear comrades,
I came back from Egypt yesterday (tourist resort El Gouna, certainly not El Alamein), having learned of the death of Stig Sæterbakken the day before. Stig was a writer, poet, translator, critic, editor and an aesthetically ruthless literate who mentored a host of young writers, Erlend Erichsen on this list and yours truly among them. He was the first to introduce me to Lafroaig whisky, I believe, to martial industrialists Rome, and probably also to the Swedish enfant terrible writer Nikanor Teratologen. Always interested in going further, in discovering and mediating new music, new literature, new brands of whisky, Stig taught us, the young literates on the nightside, to challenge ourselves – by his own example, to raise our standards. Stig always wore black, including black sunglasses when the sun was up, having his full, dark hair combed back. Stig was a man of the night – melancholy at heart, but always there to listen or to talk. Of all my colleagues, I think he made me laugh the most. I loved his black sense of humour.










31. januar 2012
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