Dressed as a human

Title: Dressed as a human

Author: Winnie van Oorschot

Binding: Paperback

EAN: 9789028240261

Condition: Fair

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Condition descriptions:
- As New: Hardly any signs of use, almost as new.
- Good: May show minor signs of use, such as some discoloration or a name on the endpapers, but generally no underlining or notes in the text.
- Fair: Book in fair condition. May show signs of use, such as discoloration, reading creases in spine, underlinings, notes, light soiling at edges, dog-ears, or a crooked spine.
- New: Book is new.

Description:
My brother Guido was eight years older than me. That's why I didn't know him that well, he was more of a 'non-brother'. Behind the scenes of the publishing house founded by our parents, our family was torn apart when Guido committed suicide. I was eleven at the time and in the process of discovering my sexuality. I was never able to talk about either subject with my mother and father - Hillie and Geert. Slowly, those events became intertwined into a complex desire. It was only years later that I understood that I myself wanted to be the older brother to a younger man that Guido did not want to be to me.
My youth was defined by writers and poets, the Cold War, pop music and television, the Vietnam War and the hippie movement, the Paris revolt and the Prague Spring in 1968. In Amsterdam, my hometown, other drugs besides alcohol became popular. Sexual morality became somewhat more tolerant. I turned into a moth, came to the incorrect conclusion that I was pansexual, met the woman of my life. After the death of my parents, I continued the family business. And all the time there was Guido, the 'non-brother' I wanted to get rid of. Had to get rid of, so that I could still become the younger brother I always should have been. So that I could finally say 'I miss you.' I can do that now.

Wouter van Oorschot


Fragment
On Monday, October 7, the headmaster Mr. Meilink appeared in the classroom, it was ten o'clock. He chatted with the teacher, who nodded understandingly. She turned to me: 'Would you like to go with Mr. Meilink for a moment?' That was fine, of course. Going with Mr. Meilink meant that he had a special job that you were allowed to help with because you had worked ahead. You enjoyed it because you realized that you had been chosen to take part in something important. In his wake you left the classroom, walked next to him through the hallway, down two flights of stairs and through the other hallway to his office.
In that hallway, Mr. Meilink answered my question about what had to happen to make my parents wait for me. He put his hand on my right shoulder, planted his fingers under my collarbone before he opened the door to his room, did not let go of me but led me inside. In front of his desk, where every birthday child always stood when they visited him last to hand out sweets and receive a nice sticker, Hil and Geert sat on two pulled-out consultation chairs with their backs to us. She on the left, he on the right. My mother turned around first and I froze because I had never seen her face so bloated and red with grief. As terrible as she looked, she looked so horribly beautiful. Did she already wear that headband then or did that come later? And have I ever seen my father look so tense, sad, distraught as he did then? The hand left my shoulder and I walked towards them. The message came quickly. 'Dear boy...' - a mother's hug, a father's hand on my head - '...Guido has died.' Three seconds must have passed which also lasted three seconds. 'We're going home now, come on.'
We left Mr. Meilink's room. I wish I could remember if he stroked my head again. Or put his fingers nicely under my collarbone, or said: hello, boy. We walked down the hallway, down the last two flights of stairs, through the hall. My father opened the school door. Did he let us go first or was he also in a hurry to be outside? I walked between them across the sidewalk to the car. We drove to the office, five blocks away. At the work office I was put down on a chair and given something to drink. The accountant took care of me while my parents went upstairs for a while.
Guido, my brother, was there. He must have been there and dead. I did not get to see Guido, my brother. I was not allowed to see Guido, my brother again. But Guido must have been there because he lived in rooms above the shop at the time and was found on the floor in the kitchen with the gas tap open. I have not been told who found him. I remember that the painter Melle was there but he quickly left again, although he did grab my head between his hands and gave me a long knowing wink and a pat on the head. There may have been more people but I was taken home, to Loenersloot, I do not remember by whom. The wife of the bookkeeper and Mrs. Corten, our housekeeper, took me in. Hil and Geert had to arrange something in Amsterdam. I have no idea what either woman did to comfort me. I do not remember anything of the days that followed, except that I was not allowed to go to a funeral in Amsterdam, it must have been that of a brother, there were many people there, Hil told me later. Plus, in those days an exceptionally friendly lady was staying with us. She had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere and without a doubt occupied herself with me. Otherwise I would not know how I could have found her exceptionally friendly.