Mehis Heinsaar

 

De Estse schrijver Mehis Heinsaar werd geboren op 1 augustus 1973 in Tallinn. Hij bezocht de middelbare school in Tallinn en studeerde van 1992 tot 2000 Estse literatuur aan de universiteit van Tartu. In 1996 richtte hij in Tartu met o.a. Kalju Kruusa, Kristiina Ehin en Timo Maran de groep Erakkond2 die zichzelf echter niet als een literaire groep beschouwt. Heinsaar heeft honderden verhalen geschreven en gepubliceerd in tijdschriften of kranten, verzameld in vijf bundels. Hij waagde zich ook aan een roman en schreef poëzie en theaterstukken. Zijn verzamelde gedichten verschenen in 2009. Zijn roman” Het verhaal van Artur Sandman of de reis naar de andere kant van zichzelf” kende een gemengde ontvangst. Hij zelf zei in 2008 dat hij “misschien te jong was om deze roman te schrijven, maar dat hij wel moest. Zijn stukken zijn opgevoerd in het studententheater in Tartu (2002,2003, 2009).

Uit: Butterfly Man (Vertaald door Tiina Randviir)

“As he touched the door handle, something in Anselm snapped and separated from him in the form of a swarm of butterflies, scattering in all directions around the director’s office. Anselm turned deathly pale and started to flap his arms about, trying to catch the fluttering creatures. In the process he smashed a few vases and an aquarium with a few goldfish in it. The butterflies he caught he stuffed into his mouth, casting wild glances towards the director who was standing petrified, watching the conjurer’s every move.
“I usually have lunch at this time,” was Anselm’s stupid explanation. “And I want to keep to my meal times.” Realising how feeble this sounded, the conjurer fled from the room. As he ran downstairs, he heard someone panting behind him, and ran faster. At the front door, however, the director caught up with the fugitive. “Hey – what’s the big hurry? What you just showed me, all those butterflies – that
was brilliant!”
“… Oh, please, don’t mock my disability,” interrupted Anselm. “I’ve suffered enough already. It’s always the same, every time I experience a strong emotion, these creatures start flying off my body. I was bullied at school for it, and my relatives, even my parents, saw me as some kind of freak although
I’ve always been of perfectly sound mind. Only a maniac biologist once took a perverse interest in my phenomenon, actually she became my mistress in order to examine me more thoroughly. Among my body butterflies she found marsh carpets and bagworm moths, but she took a particular fancy to
the purple emperors who emerged when I experienced physical ecstasy. She counted over five hundred species, each supposedly indicating a particular mood of mine. I finally got fed up with her nonsense and sent her packing. So now you know.”
“But it’s simply fantastic!” exclaimed the director, overjoyed. “Your biologist was a gem and you, my dear young friend, are a great magician. Tomorrow you will be our star attraction – if you’re happy with that, of course – and your salary will be tripled. Come and meet your wonderful colleagues who will
show you your quarters.” The flushed director dragged Anselm to the back rooms and pressed an unexpectedly large sum of money into his hand. “This is an advance. Irmgiird!” he yelled. “Come and show our young magician his new home!” The director made a slight bow and left.”

 

 
Mehis Heinsaar (Tallinn, 1 augustus 1973)