Nick Flynn Bücher

Nach Jahren trifft Nick seinen Vater in einem Obdachlosenheim wieder, in dem er selbst arbeitet. Der Vater, ein gescheiterter Autoverkäufer, Möchtegern-Literat und Alkoholiker, hat ein Leben voller Enttäuschungen hinter sich. Nicks Mutter hatte früh das Weite gesucht, was Nick dazu brachte, die düsteren Seiten von Boston zu erleben. Der Kontakt zu seinem Vater war sporadisch und geprägt von distanzierten Briefen, die die Illusion einer heilen Welt aufrechterhielten. Nick, der sich von seinem Vater wegschreibt, dokumentiert eine komplexe Hassliebe. Während in den USA viele Autoren ihre problematischen Kindheiten aufarbeiten, führt Nick einen verzweifelten inneren Kampf. Er, als Sozialarbeiter, erkennt die Unfähigkeit, seinem eigenen Vater zu helfen, und wird selbst zur tragischen Figur. Besonders eindringlich ist die Szene, in der er seinen Vater einsam auf der Straße sieht, ohne ihn einzuladen. Nick ist sich der ererbten Anlagen bewusst und fürchtet, in denselben Strudel zu geraten. Das Werk thematisiert die gesellschaftliche Kälte gegenüber Obdachlosen und stellt die Frage nach Verantwortung und Mitgefühl: "Wenn nicht du für deinen Vater verantwortlich bist, wer dann?" Diese Erkenntnis bildet das Herzstück von Nicks Erinnerungswerk.

Known for his bestselling memoirs and as an acclaimed poet, Nick Flynn in Stay presents a self-portrait via a constellation of topics that the author has circled-or have circled him-in his work: suicide, homelessness, addiction, political engagement, artistic friendships.

Low explores the jaggedness of memory and what is salvageable when the past is broken by loss, violence, and trauma. Punctuating Nick Flynn’s signature lyric poems are prose pieces and sequences, veering toward essays, including “Notes on a Calendar Found in a Stranger’s Apartment,” a truly strange experience of cataloging a deceased neighbor’s belongings and how quickly they become worthless; “Notes on Thorns & Blood,” a study of time and wounds; and “Notes on a Year of Corona,” a loose sonnet crown about the early stages of the pandemic and the unrest after racist police violence. Despite its existential reverberations, Low is a celebration of desire in all its forms—the desire for home, the desire to be held, the desire for people to be kind to one another, the desire to understand where we are from and what we can do to make the best of that. But how do we create a home, these poems ask, in a world of satellites and atom bombs and algorithms, those things designed to dehumanize and reduce us? To get low is to reconnect with the earth, to engage with the emotional state of the planet, to remember that “the cure all along grows beside us.” Flynn’s collection is a prismatic, even prophetic, experience, with new complexity and ardor at every turn.

Nick Flynn chronicles the surreal experience of being on set during the making of the film Being Flynn, from his best-selling memoir Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, and watching the central events of his life reenacted: his father's long run of homelessness and his mother's suicide.

The narrative explores the lasting impact of a traumatic childhood event, as Nick Flynn revisits his past after becoming a father. Through lyrical bedtime stories, he confronts his memories, intertwining themes of loss and resilience. The character of Mister Mann embodies the darkness and vulnerability of Flynn's early experiences, illustrating how these elements shape his identity and parenting. This poignant reflection captures the complexities of familial bonds and the quest for understanding amidst a tumultuous upbringing.