Art in general is the art of rejection –  as in a wooden sculpture, as in the single tattoo that needs to be chosen from among all the world’s symbols, signs, words, and images. This is how written literature became a dictatorship of what has been accepted for rejection. A tyranny of style, of the onset, culmination, and conclusion, of an extraction from time, from space, from a geometry of complex planes, from an unending succession. In this sense, literature has lost even more freedom than a symphonic score.

Haupt managed to escape this linearity. He truly can “dissolve over a tree in contemplation*.” This is the case when in order to produce a short piece of writing one needs to know (and he does) everything about what the world is made of. It’s like making bean soup with thirty beans. But these beans, for some unknown reason, according to some mysterious rule, are at this precise moment selected from among several thousand grains – varying in shape, size, colour, ripeness, firmness, origin – lying in front of you, scattered in a thin layer. And while you prepare that soup you know that yours is going to be made with unique beans. And you know that, regardless of today’s soup, right in front of you stretches a plane filled completely with unused beans. And you know that all the soups still hiding within the beans that haven’t been chosen today have an even bigger impact on today’s soup than the cooked ones.

And in addition to this, you know that you can do perfectly fine without the soup and the beans.

This is precisely what Haupt did.

I suppose that he understood one more thing – that there is too much literature anyway.

There is, however, not enough allusion.

I have so far written a little more than Zygmunt Haupt has. I’m not that old yet and I have a good chance of writing more, since writing has become something of a habit. But even I am able to feel that there is already too much of what I have written for an average reader to take in, to remember, to recognise what I have written as something which has been written by me. I do not believe that there are many people who could even approximately outline what they had read in my writings.

I therefore suppose that Haupt must have come to the same conclusion very early. That is why his best pieces are some of the titles. He knew that titles – like certain objects related to the past of people particularly dear to us – can be remembered best. And a time will come when titles will become the most important knowledge about past literature. And that is why it is worth including in them all these allusions, of which – contrary to texts – there are clearly so few. Maybe this is where all of those incredible titles of his, which evoke more emotions than an ordinary novel, come from: poker in Gorgany, paper ring, Basque devil, Jesuit garden, about Stefcia, about Chaim Immerglück, and the Scythian bracelets… This will do, I suppose?

*Unless stated otherwise, this and further quotations are free translations of Haupt’s work. (translator’s note).

TARAS PROCHAŚKO | Journalist and author. One of the head representatives of the “Stanislau Phenomenon,” and one of the most interesting recent Ukrainian authors. His works attract the attention of critics, journalists, literature researchers, readers. He publishes short stories, novels, reportages.

All this after one or two sentences. If one were to go through the stories at more length, however, all of this linguistic commentary comes to nought. Haupt’s gibberish is first and foremost a gigantic, heroic effort of braving the world’s tangle. This can also be effectively traced in the story “Dzień targowy,” also written in the 40s; here, the words-things directly describe the things-things laid out in the stalls, and the effort of getting them closer to one another, getting them to adjoin in parallel, becomes the more apparent. Here, just like first and last names, and place names in a few other stories, the author obsessively lists the wares: calico, horse harness, hens tied by their feet, sieves and scythes, pork fat, lard and sausages, wooden pipes and tin cockerels. And again – one would very much like to chant these excerpts, shout them out, or at least read them out loud. But first and foremost, to learn them by heart to always have this promise of compatibility by your side. As if many people’s dream of a word-specific, an object that is lying here, right next to us, by the real one, and referring directly to it came true.

In the story about the four seasons, “Entropia,” the same one with the “mottling flies” and the “rushing woman,” one can jot down in their Polish language study notebook that the sentences’ awkwardness is not noticeable on the level of the subject-predicate relationship – there occurs, however, a very telling description of an early-spring sky. At this time of year, “the black wetland waters faithfully reflect the azure rush.” The ground and its waters enter contact with the sky and mimic it, repeat it – this can be considered a variation or metaphor of language being compatible with things. But something else is more relevant here. Early spring marks the only period when “the sky is closest to the ground,” it abandons its constant “splendid isolation,” while during other seasons of the year it remains painfully distant and out-of-reach.

I am arriving at the gist here: apart from the effort of bringing words closer to things, in Haupt’s work there also occurs (dependent, of course, on the previous one, or at least akin to it) the effort of bringing the world closer, bringing the landscape closer to perception, familiarising it. To defeat this sky’s misfortunate isolation from the ground, the horizon’s from the eye, the world’s from man, one has to see the landscape in its closeness, to crawl into this space and feel its presence on one’s own skin. Touch is the sense that allows for the most direct contact with the bedding of the surroundings. Nevertheless, the moments when one can touch, with bare skin, the waters of ponds or the “rawness” of trampled grass on a bank, are extremely rare. On a daily basis, it is only sight – always fixed on something distant, mind you – that ties the pedestrian, the passer-by, the passenger with what passes by. And the stage of putting it into words will occur later, although the reader, out of necessity, will only be able to witness this second, or rather first type of effort through those words.

Nearly all of the stories, whose amount reaches almost a hundred, feature the element of a hike, a trip, movement, or a more static piece of landscape that one can gaze at. This also constituted a constant element of the life of Haupt himself; he moved around a lot, walked in the mountains, used the inheritance from his father to buy a motorcycle, and his first pay in France to travel to the Alps, and immediately upon being employed by “Voice of America” he applied for a loan to buy a horse. Numerous and various descriptions of landscapes and methods of transportation make the stories a kind of a phenomenological atlas, a review of sights from diverse angles, reliant also on the position and capabilities of the observing entity.

The story “Poker w Gorganach” is characteristic in this regard; it depicts the protagonist lost in the mountains, and as he enters a humble shepherd’s cabin he observes the “slanted world.” The hillside is very steep, a cloud is rushing by behind it, from beneath which the tips of firs stick out. A fragment of the slope which is visible from inside the shed is the only view, the only available snapshot of the world. After a while, the eye withdraws into the cabin, observes a few meagre objects lying around, a smouldering fireplace. The effort of describing only that which fits within the shot, whether in the foreground or background, with special attention given to the angles of planes, the visible fragments of shapes instead of the whole, which we can only guess at – it’s an effort not solely literary; it’s an experiment of a phenomenologist who is trying to studiously see before he diligently writes down. The troubles with aptly attentive seeing and writing are on occasion equally serious, but are not always one and the same.

The airplane from which the protagonist observes a vast extent of land, “earth that is stretched and torn, like lizard skin,” also becomes an exceptional laboratory of seeing (“Henry Bush i jego samolot”). The protagonist notes the distorted proportions, from up there everything is different and “immenser.” Here, instead of the “cone” that encompasses our vision “from the height of our posture,” the broad line of the horizon opens up. A test of perception, a sample of movement that changes seeing, may be horseback riding (“Tarok”), a ship at sea, where movement seems not to exist at all, and the surface of the water remains “an undeniable plane, a locked fat line of the horizon” (“W drodze na morzu”), skis, a military march, or simply the frame of a train window. In the latter case, the leitmotif is once again rhythm: the clatter of wheels, the “abysmal monotony” of telegraph poles, the “dissonance” of ramps, “millions of mole-hills” (“’Kiedy będę dorosły’”). The rhythm of passing by has its perspective and order, which is dependent on distance – the telegraph poles “fly backwards quickly, and the white birch trunks by the rails slip by less hastily, while the black net of deep-wood hornbeams stands unwaveringly still” (“Krzemieniec”), like sea waves watched from afar. In “Rigor mortis,” all of these rhythms beyond the window are accompanied by a foreground – the reflection of a girl’s face.

The sensitivity for rhythms is connected to Haupt’s intuition for language itself, whereas the awareness of lines, slants, tilts, planes, and perspectives can easily be ascribed to his painterly imagination. In this sense, an attempt at bringing the horizon closer, making it available for the senses, carnally close, not only entails the primal need for a close look and a following description, but also constitutes the readying of a foundation for the paint, which will precisely delineate visible patches, contours of trees and meadows. Should one analyse the metaphors that serve here to describe the landscapes, it becomes apparent that a surprising flattening of perspective takes place unusually often; an embedding of the landscape’s depth onto a plane in a painterly gesture, and simultaneously in a constant effort of bringing it closer to the eyes. Mountains like “screens cut out from sheet metal,” the forest as a brush, a snow-covered field like a sheet of paper through which crows and ravens fly like iron shavings drawn by a magnet, peasants against the scenery like moving commas, the thatch of the forest reminiscent of “one’s own wrinkled and callous skin,” finally – the dome of the close sky like a “glass bell of blue glass.” The landscape flattens out in the rain and in the fog, in the right combination of colours, or simply thanks to metaphor, a point of view. It flattens and thus becomes more familiar, readily comprehensible and describable. Man, like the flat bug mentioned in the story about the plane, exists in a rather two-dimensional than three-dimensional world. Thrown into the depth, the world’s three-dimensionality, into the untamed wild, he feels painfully incongruous, in his own mind becomes the more “flat, tinny,” exactly “as if he dropped by the English club uninvited and dressed inappropriately” (“Poker w Gorganach”). He longs for depth and yet, every time he manages to crawl into it, he blunders hard.

Perhaps it is this depth of scenery translated into the language of the plane that causes maps to be something extraordinary. Haupt compares the contour of the American continent drawn in meteorological brochures to ham, and provides detailed explanations of the rules according to which the landscape and weather have been translated into isobars, weather front borders, and wind directions (“Cyklon”). The Gulf of Mexico is like a green eye, with “the lash of Florida” above and the “Yucatán lid” underneath, the map is like a painting. A researcher of Haupt’s work, who by no mere coincidence is a map researcher as well, Andrzej Niewiadomski, point out in his book “Mapa. Prolegomena” that the symbols on a map reflect the wealth of being, but simultaneously “the time devoted to a map is time lost if we believe it will douse our yearning; the contrary is true.” The flat little tin man is stuck in constant isolation from the surrounding tangle, used to celebrating the moments when the sky draws closer to the ground for a while, steadily chanting clusters of words in his bizarre language.

*Unless stated otherwise, this and future quotations are free translations of excerpts from Haupt’s works (translator’s note).
**These intricacies, as well as some following ones, are lost in the English translation due to the relatively limited grammatical case system of the English language (translator’s note).

ZOFIA KRÓL, PhD | Editor-in-chief and head of the literature department of the dwutygodnik.com culture magazine. Has published in “Gazeta Wyborcza,” “Zeszyty Literackie,” and “Tygodnik Powszechny.” Literary critic and historian, PhD in philosophy. Author of the book “Powrót do świata. Dzieje uwagi w filozofii i literaturze XX wieku” (2013).

As a painter with more of a static imagination, you evoke separate images without taking care to put them into continuous sequences. This magic was known to Petrarch. He described all the places he had been to as if in exercises in topography.*

Let us then try, as a part of these exercises, reach one of the towns close to us which can be found within the pages of the above-mentioned novel. The town that was considered charming not only by Zygmunt Haupt.

In Szymbark I lived in a tiny annex, the door off-kilter but the place itself very clean, with one or two little pieces of furniture, antiques, muslin curtains at the window, a candle in a candlestick made of blue enameled metal, spare matches for guests, the bed made so neatly that it emanated a sweet scent (lavender?), and the breakfast they sent me, swear to God! to bed and they had snobby English breakfasts there, soft-boiled eggs in mugs, jams, little bars of butter, biscuits, a bit of this, a bit of that. And in the evenings we would lie, we would actually lie in front of the living-room fireplace, beech blocks burning and crackling, and what also crackled (…) were the chestnuts, “marrons,” as we baked them over these blocks. (…) Stanisława, Mrs Stasia, would lie in her evening gown, and she was the one celebrating this baking of the chestnuts for us, whose mouths were watering.

This is how, in an exceptionally painterly manner, Haupt immortalised the image of the Bystrzyca manor in Szymbark in his “Pierścień z papieru.” Modest, wooden, but cosy, open, and warm. And very modern, with electricity, gas heating, and running water. The peasant neighbours would say in frank admiration:

And the manor has the click, there’s water running out of the wall, and they stoke with stink.

He went there several times in the thirties to visit his Lviv friends Stanisława and Karol Groblewski. He probably met the hosts during his studies at Lviv Polytechnic University. “Mrs Stasia” – Stanisława Groblewska was at the time a “star” of the Lviv Tennis Club. This well-educated woman, familiar with the Lviv intelligentsia and sports environment, could certainly be impressive. Not only due to her sports achievements: she was awarded the title of the Champion of Lviv several times, and twice she became the Champion of Poland, playing doubles with the outstanding Jadwiga Jędrzejowska. After her father’s death this strong and modern woman was forced to, as she wrote herself, change her light tennis outfit to a “stable jacket.” In the thirties, together with her husband, she was managing 50 hectares of rocky piedmont, specialising in the raising of mountain cattle. However, she did not quite forget about her passion for sport (in the manor gardens a tennis court found its place) nor about her Lviv, Cracow, and Warsaw friends, who gladly visited the hospitable Groblewski home. Zygmunt Haupt wasn’t astonished only by the manor’s ambiance. In a story told in “Pierścień z papieru” he also brought up the wonderful relations between the parents, especially between the mother and the adolescent son Janusz.

Still, not only the Groblewskis of Bystrzyca were trailblazers of farm tourism. Others also hosted numerous summer visitors. Guests were received with similar courtesy in the extensive manor of Maria and Kazimierz Groblewski in Łęgi, in the modest Kazimiera Słowikowska manor house and in the Sikorski villa in Rola. However, the most attended place was the estate in the central part of Szymbark, called “the Castle.” Visitors were probably attracted by the romantic ruin of a 16th century fortified manor house, but also by the good leisure conditions. The estate owner Zbigniew Lucjan Sękiewicz, in the years 1927-28, erected a palatial summer villa. Since 1934 the villa and the entire estate were managed by his cousin Maria Kuźniarska and her son Janusz. In the summer of 1933, writer Maria Dąbrowska vacationed there. However, the rainy weather was not suitable for walks, therefore she probably gave herself over to writing, continuing her novel “Noce i dnie”. The Kuźniarskis’ well-awaited summer included guests from Warsaw: the Drozdowskis and Świerczewskis, as well as Antonina and Tadeusz Grodyński. The latter one was a professor of higher economics at the Higher School of Commerce and at the University of Warsaw, and in the years 1927-39 he performed high-level duties at the ministry of treasury where he was a vice-minister, and for a few months he even personally managed this important department. The most common visitors at the larch manor and villa were Maria Kuźniarska’s brothers: the priest Kajetan Łańcucki – a parson at Lubatowa, and colonel Seweryn Łańcucki with his family.

The leisure conditions were excellent for numerous visitors from the capital, Silesia, Lviv, or Cracow. In the summer villa, apart from modest yet comfortable rooms, bathtubs were prepared for curative baths. It was difficult to get bored here. The attractions comprised walks and horseback riding, and sleigh parties in winter. The evenings would be spent in the gardens or at the villa terrace playing cards, listening to the pathephone or the radio. The visitors were also welcome to use a well-equipped library. The hosts also took care of good cuisine. Breakfast was served in the bedroom and dinner, tea, and supper at the larch manor. Meals were very diversified, rich in vegetables and fruit grown in the manor garden. Father Ludwik Wachowicz, who was the parson in Szymbark at the time, estimated in the parish Chronicle that during the summer some 250 people would come to the village, and they would “praise the beautiful surroundings, the wholesome air, good drinking water, and pleasant baths in the river”.

Pre-war Szymbark was visited not only by wealthy clients but also by pedestrian tourists and bivouack-lovers. Thanks to the activists of the Polish Tatra Society in Gorlice (Witold Tokarski, Kazimierz Zabierowski, Karol Kosiba, among others), after 1932 a tourist route was marked from Stróże through Szymbark up to the Magura Małastowska peak. At the river’s meander, beneath the ruins of the castle, boy scouts would set up their camps. The local post office was crowded in summer, and postcards with beautiful Szymbark sights, published in large numbers, were unceasingly popular. The increase in the tourist activity in Szymbark was connected to the growing interest in leisure in the previously misappreciated Beskid Mountains, from Nowy Sącz to Sanok. Krystyna Pieradzka wrote about this in her tourism coverage “Na szlakach Łemkowszczyzny”:

(…) the tourist activity is expanding to manors and manor houses, to major villages, to tourist, boy scouts, summer, military and work camps etc. (…). For this reason the summer and curative economy of the Carpathian area should be under the authorities’ special protection.

That is alsol what happened in Szymbark. In the summer of 1938, the village was visited by the Voievodeship Healthcare Commission from Cracow in order to officially recognise it as a health resort. There was a chance of granting a government subvention for the accommodation base expansion, especially in peasant houses, for electrical lighting, the development of bath resorts at the river Ropa and setting up a seasonal transport route with rail stations in Zagórzany and Stróże. The worsening of the international situation a few months later caused the state authorities to think about an accelerated process of raising military fortifications at the state borders rather than about building guesthouses.

In spite of this, July 1939 saw Szymbark yet again full of summer visitors who raved about the charming fortified manor and the unique lake at the forest landslide. They enjoyed baths in the river and walks in the forest, with curiosity they listened to the local legends and watched the diverse customs and religious ceremonies. Maria Cegielska, the daughter of Franciszek Rziha, owner of the oil mine adjacent to the Groblewski estate on the Bystrzyca, mentioned that:

On July 16th a kermess took place on occasion of the Holy Mother of Szkaplerz festivities. During my childhood it was for me the most important holiday attraction. I pillaged the stalls with the enthusiasm equal to that of the Szymbark country kids, admiring those little roosters made of sheet tin, the gingerbread hearts and the chickens-on-a-stick that flapped their wooden wings. (…) Everyone would attend the kermess: peasants, local landowners and summer visitors, the post office manager with his spouse, and the teachers, the boy scouts from camps set up at Ropa’s meander. The limes gave off an aroma around the old wooden 18th century church, the bees buzzing around their blossom.

The idyll of the carefree holiday at Szymbark ended six weeks later. The war, which broke out on September 1st 1939, changed everything. Stanisława Groblewska became a hero of the Gorlice resistance movement, the colonel Seweryn Łańcucki went to war, while Tadeusz Grodyński and Zygmunt Haupt emigrated and never came back to Poland. After the war, Szymbark’s dream of becoming a fashionable summer resort never came true. Today, as charming as ever, it still awaits summer visitors and tourists. Or perhaps a new Zygmunt Haupt?

*Unless otherwise stated, this and future quotations are free translations of excerpts (translator’s note).

MAREK DZIEDZIAK | History teacher at the Szymbark School Complex, initiator of educational events and several regional history publications.

Let us once again begin with the writer’s letters. In his letter from the 9th of January Zygmunt Haupt confides in Józef Wittlin:

I will soon be facing an unpleasant kind of situation. Namely, some New Orleans committee approached me on the account of helping them as a translator, regarding the reception of the first grand transports of Polish IDPs, which is to enter their harbour. Should it come to this, I will attempt to restrict my role to translator only, for my opinions on the new, longed-for life which they are to begin here, those opinions would be paradoxical and unenthusiastic.*

Some time later, in a letter from June 13th the author of “Pożegnanie z ojczyzną” adds:

I am continuously on duty as committee member welcoming the ships with Polish IDPs, and then I visit them all around Louisiana, at their new places, and compassionately I listen to their sorrows and worries, and disappointments. In return I get to listen to Polish from the Sanok, Konin, and Kamionka Strumiłowa regions. I ask them, what about coming back to Poland. “We’re not going to be, they say, ruled by no Moskal.” Of course they don’t trust me, an intellectual, they remember very well how the intelligentsia duped them. But sometimes they really loosen up their starch, up to the point where they tell me their dreams (“I’ve dreamt of the Virgin Mary and a lot of people – there will probably be a funeral…”).

The arrival of ships with Polish emigrants (internally displaced persons) provokes the writer to once again take on the difficult topic of life in exile, a topic close to Haupt on an existential level, and which corresponds with his intellectual and artistic points of interest. The obvious lack of enthusiasm (born, after all, straight from his own emigration experience) is accompanied by a realistic, clearly distanced attitude. The reluctance he shows does not, however, stem from egoism. On the contrary, it is motivated by compassion and – what is, perhaps, most important – the awareness of being part of common history, having a role in one play. The deeper the awareness, the more severe the pain. This pain was, without doubt, felt by the writer’s correspondent, it was also an inseparable element of Haupt’s self-awareness.

I would not, however, like to bring the cited fragment of correspondence down to the level of the anecdote it holds, which is, of course, a rather frequent temptation when analysing epistolography. For one can see something more in this small fragment, something equally thought-provoking and important. The quoted verses, when looked upon closely, reveal a palette of tones, out of which the tone of longing seems to be most important. On the surface it seems very obvious and, so to speak, typical. Here we have an exile who lives in a new world, far from what is familiar and close, longs for any element, even the smallest one, which could, even if for just a moment, bring back the lost heritage. It may be a coincidental or planned meeting with another Pole (every such event was very meticulously noted by Haupt in his letters). It may also be a book he read (the writer tried to actively keep abreast of the creative output from Poland). It may even be a word overheard somewhere. A special word, recognisable in the diversity of its variations (Polish from Sanok and Konin), inseparably connected with the specifics of familiar sounds the pleasantly tease the ear (Kamionka Strumiłowa).

Haupt writes about the importance of conversations and about the sounds that go with them in a letter to Wittlin from December 10th 1947:

It has been a few months now since we met in New York, and I value the memory of that meeting greatly. I found it very pleasant and home-like to wander around Manhattan with you, and when walking and talking about Polish matters one could forget that they are walking the 58th, when talking as if it was, for example, Chorążczyzny Street.

This choice is no coincidence. The emblematic words of the writer, in which he juxtaposes a huge western metropolis with his lost Lviv, do hide a particular metaphor for the fate of an exile. The impersonal new world is contrasted with the uniqueness of the homeland, the namelessness (symbolised by an abstract number) – with a name that is difficult to pronounce and impossible to forget. Chorążczyzny – a Proustian proper name. A birthmark. An open wound.

2.

The trauma of language accompanies the most intimate moments from Haupt’s emigratory life. It is clearly visible when the writer observes the progress his son makes in learning to speak Polish, which he mentions to Wittlin in his letter from March 6th 1948:

You are an old emigrant, but can you believe that, until recently, I had constantly been living on a Polish island, stuck in the Polish army in England, and all of a sudden I am on my own. Sir, I have a small son, he is two years and four months old now, and he is beginning to talk. And it looks like this: I count, I say “trzy,” “cztery,”** and my son repeats after me “tsy,” “stery,” we go to the zoo, I say “słoń,” he repeats “fłoń,” I show him a piggy bank “świnia,” he says “finia.” I am incredibly, unspeakably moved. But I am moved in a way that is abnormal, it is an untrue situation, an unbelievable situation. My unnecessary excitement does harm to me, and may do harm to my son. I am, naturally, overreacting, these days I am not the only one who is bound to be lonely and unhealthily moved.

This manner of writing can be found in other pieces, but what we are interested in is not limited to the level of existential experience. There is also the matter of creative work, although it is of course difficult to separate these two spheres.

Creative work in exile does (especially when it comes to the matter of language) of course imply objective, transcultural difficulties in communication, and immediately on two equally important grounds, as the issues of translation do, apart from their most practical aspect, have a deeper, meta-creative character – both have on numerous occasions been pointed out by the author of “Baskijski diabeł.” For Haupt, who was a maximalist, the fundamental part of a writer’s agenda was to aim at universalism, a goal not easily achieved when taking into consideration the character of his prose. All dissonance came from problems purely translatory, also thematic, but first and foremost from those of thought. Because Haupt thought and wrote in his native tongue. And even if it sounds banal, this triviality is overcome by the truth of the writer’s own difficult experience.

I have this incredible feeling as if I was a man from an anecdote, who leaves home one day to buy cigarettes in the corner shop and finds himself twenty years later across the world, living in prosperity and surprised by the world of circumstances. I left the country where everything was arranged into a very reliable pattern, everything converging just the way it should. One may live and not live this way, you dribble in a stream of emotion and impression through the automatism of small equalising differences that direct you into one groove or another, and life will flow and carry you through the forks and erosion of the pattern in the surface of the land wrinkled with concern. Whether I want it or not, I dribble into another pattern, but my sense of gravity has been shaped by the past.

– the writer noted in his draft “Zapiski autobiograficzne,” and it indeed is difficult to stay indifferent to these words. They echo in one’s head long after having been read, they echo with a familiar sound.

3.

So when I lay among the grass
and it matters not that the hemlocks, the thistles, that the silver wormwood, the buttercups like flames, the thymes, the bindweed
and the bindweed spins,
the wild oat is, like a vagabond, cheerful and blustering,
the wild poppy and sundew,
and by the water,
where the wet kingcups, remarkably yellow and fat kingcups
(please note that I am using this entire nomenclature, but so irresponsibly)
when I lay and listen to the roar of a bumblebee with a plush striped abdomen,
to the bee flying,
when I observe at the back side of a leaf
the aphids patiently sticking to their green,
I am as if in another country.

(Playing “green”)

Typical Haupt: Polish to the core, and at the same time universal in his own way. Entirely enrooted in the nature and culture of the motherland. You feel it straight away. For how do you explain to foreigners the nature of the hemlock. A regular botanic description does not suffice, here it is equally important to know the work of Sienkiewicz, or maybe even to read “The Street of Crocodiles.” What to do about the wormwood, the buttercups, the creeping bindweed, the bizarre sundew? How do you translate into another language the melody of words, the “sensuality of words.” I would like to draw your attention to the unintended alliteration.*** It is no coincidence, for Haupt’s subject absorbs the world with all his senses, also hearing. And then replays, or maybe recreates it, using the thaumaturgy of words.

The world can be listened to – this is an important and universal lesson that comes from the patient reading of the writer’s work (only such reading – leisurely – makes sense in this case). In this listening we become like children who discover the world around them anew. Haupt wrote about this in “Fragmenty,” which are filled with sounds and bindweeds:

I learn among this, whether I want to or not, I absorb all that is around me with every pore of my skin, just as you breathe with your skin, or as the tapeworm in the intestine absorbs with the entire surface of its body, its wormy body. This comes to me and it transforms within me, and here is where the processing of the world into my own world begins.

And further:

And then, all around, voices and voices and sayings, a garden of words, little paths cut out in this garden, you take a branch with words like that and pull it, like a jasmine branch, and you feel a shiver when it releases a shower of dewdrops. “That garden” was the second garden next to Szor’s storehouse with planks, the storehouse smelled like sawdust and Jewish rubbish. “It’s going smooth as silk”**** – mom would say, and I would wonder how can it be that something is going easily, smoothly as silk. “Tadeuszowa”***** – this word defined the whole world of the caretaker’s wife, her children, her husband, a drunk and, frankly, a thief, and the shabby apartment of poor people. “Roszlakowscy,” on the other hand, is a word encompassing the entire middle-class family, the entire middle-class community, the entire universe revolving around the same, prearranged middle-class affairs (…).

This is all very modernistic and simultaneously so very unlike anything we have known before. It seems to be the special power of the writer, who like none other had the ability to bring together all the contradictions in a way known only to himself, to fit them within one capacious and, at the same time, most coherent form. The craft he employed when using writing to utter (sic!) words can amaze. The more amazing is the power of evocation, which serves as a matrix to Haupt’s narratives. No longer the telling of a story (in the classic sense), but the recreating and creating seem to be the main goal of the writer’s efforts. What is important and should not be forgotten, and this applies equally to all layers of text, including that of its sound: just like you listen to the world, you listen to the writer’s story about the world.

4.

According to Haupt, a work of art is a microcosm of sorts, abundant and fragrant, perceivable with all the senses. He who listens will certainly hear. He who reads (best aloud) knows that I am right.

*The original correspondence between Haupt and Wittlin is held in the special collections of the Harvard College Library.
**Polish words: “three,” “four”, and then “elephant,” “pig,” which are imperfectly repeated by the child (translator’s note).
***The author refers to the phrase “zmysłowość słów” (“sensuality of words”), the alliteration is not present in the English translation of the phrase (translator’s note).
****The literal translation of this Polish idiom is “It’s going as if from a petal” (translator’s note).
*****The wife of Tadeusz (translator’s note).

PAWEŁ PANAS, PhD | Assistant professor at the Catholic University of Lublin (KUL), member of the International Institute for Hermeneutics. Author of many treatises, has written for “Teksty Drugie,” “Europa Orientalis” and “Sing System Studies.” Author of the books: “Doświadczenia religijne w twórczości Gustawa Herlinga-Grudzińskiego” (Lublin 2012) and “Opisanie świata. Szkice o poezji Marcina Świetlickiego” (Cracow 2014). Editor of the joint publication “Horyzont religijny polskiej literatury emigracyjnej” (Lublin 2013). He has written several research papers on Zygmunt Haupt’s literary work, including “’Jeździec bez głowy’ Zygmunta Haupta. Fragmenty dyskursu symbolicznego” (in: “Symbol – znak – rytuał. Od narodzin do śmierci,” ed. J. Marecki, L. Rotter, Cracow 2014); “’… gdzieś poza krzywizną ziemi’. Dyskurs wygnańczy w korespondencji Zygmunta Haupta – rekonesans” (in: “Roczniki Humanistyczne” 2014, vol. 1); “Tożsamość wygnańca. Uwagi o zapiskach autobiograficznych Zygmunta Haupta” (in: “Osoba czy tekst?”, ed. A. Bielak, Lublin 2015). Originator and director of an all-Polish academic project dealing with the semiotic analysis of literary transfigurations of the experience of exile. The scope of the material included literary works by the author of “Baskijski diabeł.”

How can one ignore the thought of it when talking about an author driven out from his two family homes by both great wars? He did not, however, turn his back on this modern world that brings failure as well as hope. He was interested, as it seems, both in what is gone, and in what is yet to come, though the first reading of his stories gives a different impression, disturbs the proportion, and seemingly only takes us back to what is past. Entangled in our own memories, we easily forget what the fascination with new works of human hands and minds meant to the protagonist (protagonists) of this prose. So let us not get overly concerned – after several monographs, several dozen articles, reviews, essays, it is time to begin the next level of reception. I suspect that the writer himself would be curious (just as, despite the nostalgia he often developed in himself, he was curious of the Other, the foreign countries and people) what reaches us from behind or from in between the lines of his works, this prose chiseled elaborately for years. The modesty apparent in his letters, or maybe something more like surprise or a lack of faith in his own abilities and talent, is also a matter of a certain convention. But could a writer so honest with his own work, so careful in all his nonchalance, and so uncompromising in his antidogmatism, have no care for the result of his actions?

I imagine Haupt, had he the chance, writing a story based upon the Haupt Festival. He himself could get interested in opinions, theses, but his protagonist… rather in the characters, in the body and spirit of poets, prose writers, researchers, in the customs, the context of nature and culture. I have no doubt that he could turn this event into a prose masterpiece that pretends not to be one. Only the entourage of characters would be different, but we would become, together or separately, the subject of creation built on simple perception, as in “The Wake and the Repast,” as in “Biały Mazur,” as in “To ja sam jestem Emma Bovary,” a modern lieutenant Boczyła here, a Benedyk there, or some lazy but vigilant and unsettled Emma, smoking, let’s say, Marlboros instead of Hels.

Let’s leave the imaginary for a moment though. Even if this real festival, which symbolically opens a new time of Haupt’s presence in the consciousness of readers-amateurs-lovers and readers-researchers,  should be a pretext to some storytelling about Haupt, out of touch with the work itself, we still wouldn’t be far from the spirit of this work: after all, we know that “failedness” is its fixed component – and out of all that’s misguided, uncomfortable, incongruent, and unsuitable, Haupt built episodes creating the image of this wonderful “nonessentiality” (in the categories of commonly accepted hierarchy) and, having always had problems with people, he chose those fragments of their existence which were “unimportant” or so deeply submerged in the intimacy of the experience that nothing can be said for certain about them. So if we are in danger of “failedness,” we can compensate for this state by entering the matter of Haupt’s prose, experiencing it “from the inside,” evaluating the possibility of autoidentification, not forcing anything, tasting the bits that truly amaze us.

I could probably continue this a bit longer, multiplying good and failed arguments, but it won’t change the fact that despite my doubts upon having received the message about the festival, I am now almost certain that no festival can harm Haupt; it might even help his work. No, what am I saying; it can help us better understand the paradoxes connected with getting familiar with his work. I do not dare compare myself to the author of “Szpica,” but he did constantly have doubts – he rationalised them and continued to nurture them. It is thus no surprise that, having read a lot of Haupt, I was amused for a while with the concept of a “Haupt Festival in Gorlice.” Why in this place, and not any other? Because one should know that a Haupt session had already been planned in Zhovkva, the very centre of the writer’s “nonentitous” space: in the castle and in the shadow of the collegiate, one step away from the park by the Svynya River, where one of the stories’ protagonists failedly engaded in relations with Stefcia. And there was supposed to be a board on the wall of the family house, there was to be a symbolic comeback, the enthronement of Haupt on a throne set over Zhovkva’s empty grave. And, as it often happens, something didn’t pan out, didn’t work out, and this entire – I swear, I’m saying this without irony – beautiful plan came to nought, some money problems, then some war at the gates, that Rome of Żółkiewski’s, that Crimea of Putin’s, so – regardless of the good intentions of the initiators – again it’s very Haupt-like that this fact only existed in the sphere of myth, as unfulfilment, the perfect possibility, something which could be beautiful, because the cenotaph-city could, without skewing the facts (even though the facts are asking for it), honour its past citizen – and what place is better to talk about Haupt, look for the key to his work, than where his protagonist found its tender instrument – the lute?

Let this solely intended fact, however, find its way to the sphere of perfect concepts and – as it happens in Haupt’s stories – be confronted with what is not as smooth and polished, what is inconspicuous and seemingly random, insignificant in his biography. Just like Chełm/Chłąd or Bystrytsia in Gorgany, just like Gorlice, Szymbark, and Łosie. I wrote “seemingly,” because “Gorlickie” lies, after all, in the path which Haupt followed in the times of both war and peace, north of the Carpathian Mountains and along them, wandering away from and back to the mountains, and came close to death, failure, happiness, to memory, loneliness, and the contemplation of life, from Zakopane to Rachowo, and somewhere there, not necessarily in the middle, setting foot in Gorlice, Szymbark, and Łosie.

The story where the reality of this place can be found was the first one to be carved into my memory while reading Haupt’s prose published in samizdat. Or was it not so? Maybe this memory has been consolidated and “manipulated” by the fact that when in 1991 we reminded the figure of the then barely known author in “Kresy,” we re-published a variant of this story as one of the “illustrations” of his work? Either way, I followed in the footsteps of the author of “Balon,” but little stayed in my head of my visits in Gorlice, one stay in Szymbark and in Łosie, while – as if out of spite – I am haunted by the memories of my stay in Krempna which I took the long way back to from those places. And this is much further, this is the place where I then sat with my son on the terrace of a GS-bar and we ate pork chops and drank the horrible at the time Szczyrzyc beer, I think it was horrible because the brewery was going into its decline and before I knew it there was no sign left of its products’ existence. And I felt, when watching the locals, a bit like Haupt’s protagonist who entered Harry’s bar in Louisiana, and the summer both in Gorlickie and in Krempna was hot then (back then, those places were as exotic to me as Louisiana) and we also watched closely, “who here and who there,”* only the Szczyrzyc beer wasn’t “dead of ice” at all, and my teeth didn’t “stiffen,” they only got numb from the swill. And I could repeat today, only changing the place names (because I did return to Krempna): “I’ve only been to this Szymbark-Bystrzyca twice or thrice – so many years ago that I can’t even tell how many times it was. A very isolated memory of this, for it is far from my home, very cut off, a memory as separate as a piece of amateur photography glued into an album. A few amateur days of living separately. And you remember so much nothing from that.”

Of course, I do not intend to convince anyone that I, knowingly or unknowingly, became the writer, what I know is that experiencing this unremembered nothing is something which not only enables one to understand Haupt better, but also, together with him, beautifully not understand the world.

And now again, Gorlice – by chance and completely not so – maybe because of its location (not Zhovkva, not Lviv, but also not Warsaw nor Cracow) that is entirely safe, at least safe enough to be able to talk about Haupt in peace. About what has been done about the writer’s works and about what else should be (and we would like to have) done. On this occasion it would also be good to check what is it with this Szymbark-Bystrzyca and if, by any chance, Haupt’s memory didn’t overlap the topography of the Lower Beskids and Gorgany with the Bystrzyca River, and maybe even with the Chechva River (I might have gone too far here, since Haupt can always be suspected of such things, and Bystrzyca, the remnants of an estate, are, after all, part of the Szymbark area; moreover, maybe it was no coincidence that in “Pierścień z papieru” the “Gorlice” story was placed right after “Poker w Gorganach”). And maybe we should look among the numerous mountain cemeteries of the first great war for a gravestone saying: “Meine liebe Mutter, sei stolz, Ich trage die Fahne” (who knows if Haupt’s clue concerning a cemetery on the chaise road from Szymbark to Gorlice shan’t misguide us after all)? But these are trifles…

I look into this short, several-pages-long piece of prose and – surprisingly without surprise – I discover that we could talk and talk about its nuances. Not during one festival, conference, session, meeting. For example about its language, which could be discussed in another discourse, and about the language observations of Haupt (by the way, he wrote almost the same about Szymbark and the purity of the Polish language there as he did about Chełm/Chłąd, identifying this activity as a natural reaction to what is “foreign,” born in the spheres of cultural borderland). And maybe we could also say something about the surprising influence of this language on the prose of a few very modern writers?

How many riddles do Haupt’s autocommentaries hide, the whole metaliterary layer of stories, including the seemingly unimportant interjections, like the one about the Szymbark manor – that there are “logs” and not “blocks of wood” burning in the fireplace because blocks, blocks are “always very theatrical” – so it merits another look at the procedure of composing the surroundings and one’s own contemplation in the search of, well, what: the truth of reality or the truth of art?

Or by quoting the first sentence from the story from 1951, which we are interested in (“There once were three sisters: Stanisława, Maria, and Lala”), ask how it is (and is it at all) related to the beginning of Haupt’s 1969 series about Nietota (“ I could start it the old-fashioned way, for example like this”) or to the second sentence of Kuśniewicz’s 1971 novel (“There once were two sisters – Elżbieta and Bernadetta, and their brother, Emil”). And going further and thinking about the next parts of the text, ask about this particular liking for the name Maria, and then inquire about why the Szymbark manor bulldog is called Trefl** and if this fact, by analogy, has anything to do with the mystical meanings of the name of As*** the dog or with the card markings on the military tachanka? Or maybe the story of the initially absent fourth sister Elżbieta-Bieta is, say, compensatory in character? It is, after all, one of the few love stories that conclude with a happy ending of sorts, which is also understated (the story with the forester, as in Haupt’s Zabory prose), and maybe it is in some not entirely clear relation with the narratives about Panna and Nietota. But here we are entering an entire system of intricate connections and affinities, and it is indeed worth noticing thaf for Haupt – since we are talking exclusively about the Gorlice story as, say, the alleged starting point for the reading of the whole – the very division into what is peripheral or provincial, and what is focal, pivotal, and “sophisticated” is problematic. Because whan he writes about Łosie, he sees its people as whalers from New Bedford and Nantucket, and he juxtaposes the inscription on the grave with the “Made in USA” seal. Besides, this grave belongs to someone with “von und zu” in their name, maybe someone from regions that are far from Galicia, from which the writer’s progenitors came – regions foreign and distant, especially if we consider how grown into the Polish language Haupt was.

We cannot be sure how the writer’s imagination worked, but we do know that the young officer cadet’s grave stood in the shade of viburnum, just like the grave of the Scythian princess. Haupt – locating his protagonist in different places – obsessively replicated both literary-cultural contexts and the scenery of amorous or fatal catastrophes. For this reason the reading of his prose can start from “Gorlicki” or any other space, because hierarchy is hierarchy but the perception stays the same. By choosing one thing we choose it all, also that which in “Meine liebe Mutter…” appears as: “Something that is in itself, something without history, without future, what was and will be no more.” How come – we ask – something was but has no history? Is this possible? For Haupt – yes. Because a bit further he writes: “I thought this stone has forever and irrevocably encased my own youth, it once and today became separate and incomprehensible to myself.” For Haupt doesn’t tell us about his youth, he rather lays it before us. Let us not look for history and its laws here; something that is “in itself” must to a certain extent remain incomprehensible and alien. The writer guides us through the sphere in-between: from plainness to artistry, from the banality of biography to the highs and lows of literary creation. He doesn’t tell us how we are to understand this “thing,” but he ushers us into the zone of a story about incomprehension.

“You can forget everything, just keep one detail, a sample to test, a catalogue code, a countermark that can be shown in the countermarkroom to collect all the luggage, a stockpile left in oblivion.” “Meine liebe Mutter…” is then enough to dive into this great stockpile in which we cling on to the important (and we decide upon that in a capricious and arbitrary manner) props. Haupt doesn’t so much dazzle us with his world (it cannot be entirely “his,” because it became “alien”) as he invites us to travel through the ever common space of memory-oblivion and shows us the structure of our emotions, which are impulses equally of the world of things, language, and feelings.

The space of his prose is infinite, although – it may seem – geographically restricted. You can start from “Gorlicki,” you can organise a festival of oblivion which calls itself “rememberance,” a festival of misunderstanding, if you want to at least to some extent understand the author for whom the selflessness of art was most important. And only that kind of art and that kind of work tells us anything about the world, about existence and essence, because like the issues from all those spheres, it is intricate, lacking simple punchlines, and full of understatements. Should the Haupt Festival in Gorlice become the celebration of dubiousness – it will serve its purpose.

*Unless otherwise stated, this and future quotations are free translations of excerpts from Haupt’s works (translator’s note)
**English: Club, like the suit of playing cards (translator’s note)
***English: Ace (translator’s note)

ANDRZEJ NIEWIADOMSKI, PhD | Poet, essayist, literary historian, editor. Co-founder and editor of the “Kresy” literary magazine (1989-2010). Has also done literary criticism for over 10 years. Had his debut in 1988. Author of nine poetic books: “Panopticum” (Lublin 1992), “Niebylec” (Warsaw 1994), “Prewentorium” (Lublin 1997), “Kruszywo” (Legnica 2001), “Locja” (Cracow 2005), “Tremo” (Lublin, 2010), “Dzikie lilie” (Poznań, 2012), “Kapsle i etykietki” (Mikołów, 2013), “Pan Optico” (Wrocław 2014), the essay book “Mapa. Prolegomena” (Lublin, 2012), and three academic books: ”Niebliskie wyprawy. Jerzy Zagórski i poetycka przygoda nowoczesności” (Lublin 2001), “Światy z jawnych słów i kwiatów ukrytych. O refleksji metapoetyckiej w nowoczesnej poezji polskiej” (Lublin 2010), “Jeden jest zawsze ostrzem. Inna nowoczesność Zygmunta Haupta” (Lublin 2015). Has also finished “K. Esej podróżny” and “Błękitne ciało. Esej nagrobny.” Author of numerous dispersed poetic, critical, and academic publications (articles in magazines, joint publications, dictionaries, post-conference publications). He deals with the issues of poetic avant-garde, the newest poetry, metapoetry, catastrophism in the interwar period, the heritage of the interwar period in post-war literature, the dynamics of internal connections within Polish modernistic prose. Has written for “Kresy,” “Twórczość,” “Odra,” “Znak,” “Topos,” FA-art,” “Pamiętnik Literacki,” “Teksty Drugie,” among other magazines. His poems have been translated to English, German, Russian, Slovak, Slovenian, Bulgarian, and Spanish, and put into anthologies of new Polish poetry throughout the last 20 years. Has participated in many literary and cultural events. He is director of the Modern Literature Department at the Maria Curie-Skłodowska University Lublin. He lives in Lublin.

Zygmunt Haupt is a great writer. He hasn’t left any great “Work” behind. One might say he failed. Nearly forgotten, he died in exile in distant Virginia. For his first American bank loan he bought a horse and named him “Lisowczyk.” In the biographical film on the author, his friend says: “He didn’t look like a writer at all. He looked like a baker or a butcher.” He was lonely. Loneliness pervades his craft. Loneliness is his essence, the bygone – his sole topic. For these are, after all, the most important things in literature: our life, which is abandoning us.

Haupt remains unmatched. He has discovered, or perhaps invented, the language of resurrection. When he tells his seemingly static tales devoid of a distinct plot, the past is raised from the dead. We will have nothing beyond what we have experienced. Nothing else is worth the attention. The rest is window dressing, vain entertainment, and pleasing the crowd. Haupt knows this. That is why he created a language that is unsurpassed. He tells his stories in a way that makes words seem to cling to what they signify perfectly. As if memory was stronger than time, than loss, than nothingness.

You read Haupt and the lost reappears. As if one found their road to salvation. As if, for the duration of the reading, we were leaving the path that leads us inevitably to death. I do not know of anyone in Polish literature who can thus employ the Polish language to revive worlds that are seemingly gone, seemingly nonexistent. Only Bruno Schulz comes to my mind, perhaps.

Time for Haupt to come back. I believe we simply owe it to him. To condemn him to oblivion is to renounce the master of memory. Without which we are but bipedal animals that don’t even know whence they came, nor why.

ANDRZEJ STASIUK | Author, essayist, co-founder of the Czarne Publishing House, Artistic Director of the Zygmunt Haupt Festival. Writes for “Tygodnik Powszechny.” Has been living in the Lower Beskids since the late 80s. Has received numerous awards, including the Culture Foundation Prize, the Kościelski Foundation award, the Beata Pawlak Award, the Nike Literary Award, the Vilenica International Literary Prize, Gdynia Literary Award, the yearly literary award of the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage. His works have been translated to all European languages (nearly 130 translations altogether).

In 1933-34 he actively participated in Lviv’s cultural life, he was a member of “Rybałci.” This ephemeral literary group gained their secure place as “Kolumna Rybałtów” in “Krytyka i Życie,” the addition to Lviv’s newspaper “Dziennik Polski.” In 1935 he made his debut as a writer in Cracow’s illustrated weekly “As” magazine, where he published his story “Cel” (written together with Władysław Jan Turzański). In 1936-38 he has been publishing his works in “As” and in “Dziennik Polski,” he has also been admitted to Lviv’s department of ZZLP (the Trade Union of Polish Writers).

Mobilised in 1939, he took part in the September campaign as commander of the 1st Platoon of the 1st Battery of the 16th Motorised Artillery Division of the 10th Brigade of Motorised Cavalry under colonel Stanisław Maczek. Detained with the entire brigade in Hungary, he got across to France and joined the forming Polish army; he was stationed in Brittany (Coëtquidan), where he worked with Tymon Terlecki of the “Polska Walcząca” weekly, and in Provence. He did not partake in the French-German war. In 1940 he was evacuated to England, and then moved to Gosford House in Scotland, and then to London. In 1941 he was published in “Polska Walcząca” and “Dziennik Żołnierza.”

In 1944 he married Edith Norris, an American. In 1943-45 he published his texts in “Wiadomości Polskie Polityczne i Literackie” and in “Nowa Polska.” Demobilised in 1946, he moved to New Orleans; he published his works in “Nowa Polska” and in the “Wiek klęski” collection. In 1947-50 he tried to make a living off of his literary work, publishing his works in “Wiadomości,” “Tygodnik Polski,” and “Kultura,” as well as translating his stories to English and publishing them in American literary magazines such as ”Accent,” “The Chicago Review,” “New Directions,” “Furioso,” “The Nassau Literary Review,” “Perspective,” “The Paris Review.” In 1951 he started working in the Polish section of “The Voice of America” in Now York, which made his financial situation stable. In 1958 he was moved to the editorial board of the “America” monthly in Washington, where he worked as a translator and, on occasion, published notes and reviews.

In 1951-63 Haupt’s literary output was only published in “Wiadomości” and “Kultura.” In 1962 he began his cooperation with the “Tematy” magazine. In 1963 he received a literary award from “Kultura,” and Literary Institute in Paris published his short story collection “Pierścień z papieru.” In 1968 he retired, which did not stop him from publishing his works until the end of his days, mainly in “Kultura,” but also in “Wiadomości” and “Tematy.” In 1968-72 Jerzy Giedroyc planned to publish the second tome of his short story collection but, even though the author prepared it for printing, it was not released. In 1971 Haupt received the Kościelscy Foundation Award. He was buried at the Metairie cemetery in New Orleans.

Thanks to the efforts of Haupt’s son, in 1982 the author’s archive was moved to the Cecil H. Green Library at the Stanford University in California. In 1989 the Literary Institute published Haupt’s collection of prose “Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice” edited by Renata Gorczyńska and based on the author’s project of the second tome, but substantially different from it. In 2007 Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza Czytelnik published his tome “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże” edited by Aleksander Madyda and including all of Haupt’s most artistically precious pieces published on the basis of the author’s manuscripts. In 2008 Księgarnia Studencka published a collectioin of works “Z Roksolanii. Opowiadania, szkice, recenzje, warianty” edited by Aleksander Madyda and including the rest of Haupt’s prose, published based on the author’s manuscripts.

Haupt’s prose was also published in France (“L’anneau de papier,” [translated by] A. Van Crugten and E. Destree-Van Wilder, Les Editions Noir sur Blanc, Montricher – Paris 1992) and in Germany (“Ein Ring aus Papier. Erzählungen. Aus dem Polnischen übersetzt und mit einem Nachwort von Esther Kinsky. Mit einem Essay von Andrzej Stasiuk,” Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main 2003; „Vorhut. Erzählungen, Skizzen, Fragmente. Aus dem Polnischen übersetzt und mit einem Nachwort versehen von Esther Kinsky,” „Bibliothek Suhrkamp,” Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main 2007).

The key genre in Haupt’s works is the short story, though he did also write reportages, essays, and reviews. He started his literary experience from writing fiction stories, but he soon abandoned this convention for autobiographical prose, which he was faithful to until the end of his writing days. Haupt’s stories are dominated by the topic of Kresy (pre-war Eastern Galicia), but these are not typically epic works because the presentation of the outside world is subordinate to the contemplation on universal topics – psychological and philosophical ones. Not documenting the past reality, but autoanalysis, the thoughts on the issues of truth, man’s place in nature and culture, or the individual conditioning of perception – all from the subjective perspective of the first person in the text – are most important in Haupt’s works. The reflection upon oneself and the world is, however, shaped in a literary form, which makes it non-systematic. Haupt uses first-person, memoir, unequivocally autobiographical narration, but he does not put the results of his recollections in chronological order, leaving their associatory arrangement. Almost every one of his works is a sequence of fragments constituting separate thematic entireties, sometimes organised on the basis of the parallelism rule. Haupt’s prose is in great part non-fictonal in its character, it is descriptive-discursive, which – when put together with autobiographism and quite often mise-en-abyme – situates it on the border of literature and paraliterature. “Pierścień z papieru,” Haupt’s only book published during his lifetime, represents a separate genre – a series of stories – structured by the author as a literary autobiography.

ALEKSANDER MADYDA, PROF. | Professor at the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń. His fields of research are Polish literature of the 20th century, study of folklore, as well as textology and editing. In these fields he has published three monographs (“W poszukiwaniu jedności człowieka i świata. Folklor w twórczości Stanisława Vincenza,” Toruń 1992; “Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka,” Toruń 1998; “Haupt. Monografia.” Toruń 2012), four editions of poetry collections (M. Pawlikowska-Jasnorzewska “Poezje zebrane” vol. 1-2, Toruń 1993, [3rd ed.: Toruń 1997]; B. Leśmian “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1993 [3rd ed.: Toruń 2000]; H. Poświatowska “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1994; J. Czechowicz “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1997), two of narrational prose (Z. Haupt “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże,” Warsaw 2007; Z. Haupt “Z Roksolanii. Szkice, opowiadania, recenzje, warianty.” Toruń 2009), a tome of letters (Z. Haupt “Listy do redaktorów ‘Wiadomości’,” Toruń 2014), and numerous articles in magazines and joint publications.

1936
4| “Curling w St-Moritz” (in As No.3, p. 29).
5| “Za rzeką Tweed leży Szkocja” (in As No. 8, p. 8-9).
6| “Polo – sport high life’u” (in As No. 11, pp. 16-17).

1937
7| “Aspekt Śląska” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 6, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 38]).
8| “Moi przyjaciele” (in: Krytyka i Życie No. 7, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 45); (Krytyka i Życie No. 8, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 52]).
9| “Krzemieniec” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 11, p. 16 [supplement of:  Dziennik Polski No. 73]).
10| “New York +70°” (in Dziennik Polski No. 91, p. 7; No. 92, p. 6).
11| “Fluctuat nec mergitur” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 16, pp. 16-17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 106]).
12| “Admirał Gaspar Hojeda” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 17, p. 16 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 113]).
13| “Rodeo – święto kowboja” (in As No. 17, p. 25).
14| “Biosfera sztuki. (Próba przykładu)” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 20, p. 16 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 133]).
15| “Pan Pickwick i dzieci. (À la manière Charles Dickens)” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 21, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 139]); Krytyka i Życie No. 22, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 146]).
16| “List z Arktydy” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 24, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 160]).
17| “Muzeum wojny w Paryżu” (in As No. 24, pp. 4-5, 8).
18| “Wspomnienie z III Zawodów Szybowcowych w Rhön Polski – Ustjanowej” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 29, pp. 16-17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 202]).
19| “Paralela ironiczna” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 32, p. 17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 216]).
20| “Tarok” (in Krytyka i Życie No. 35, pp. 16-17 [supplement of: Dziennik Polski No. 237]).
21| “Recital poetów lwowskich” (in Dziennik Polski No. 311, p. 7).
22| “O poezji outsidera” (in Dziennik Polski No. 349, p. 11).

1938
23| “Dwie recenzje” [rev.: K.I. Gałczyński, Utwory poetyckie. Warszawa 1938; S. Rogowski, Wieczór oczekujących. Lviv 1938] (in Dziennik Polski No. 79, p. 11).
24| “Szkocki pułk Argyll and Sutherland” (in As No. 16, p. 8).
25| “Panowie! Zaczynamy!” (in As No. 29, pp. 8, 31).
26| “Hansomcab” (in As No. 33, pp. 9-10).
27| “Radio Alameda wzywa PBY na Pacyfiku!” (in As No. 34, pp. 8-9).
28| “Wojsko Stanisława Augusta” (in As No. 36, pp. 8-9).
29| “Sprawa Wilsona. Biuletyn z gór” (in Dziennik Polski No. 293, p. 10).

1941
30| “Wspomnienie o baterii motorowej” (in Dziennik Żołnierza No. 374, p. 2; No. 375, p. 2; No. 376, p. 2).
31| “’Bateria śmierci’ 1. Pułku Artylerii Motorowej. W święto pułku” (in Polska Walcząca No. 40, p. 5).
32| “Święto 16. Dywizjonu Artylerii Motorowej” (in Polska Walcząca No. 42, p. 7).
33| “W wędrówce na morzu. (Fragment z pamiętnika)” (in Dziennik Żołnierza No. 403, p. 2; No. 404, p. 2).
34| “Dwie placówki” (in Dziennik Żołnierza No. 420, p. 2; No. 421, p. 2).

1943
35| “Polowanie świąteczne i Maupassant” (in Wiadomości Polskie Polityczne i Literackie No. 51–52, p. 3 [published as: “Polowanie z Maupassantem,” item 106]).

1944
36| Koestler, A. “Inteligencja” [trans.] (in Nowa Polska vol. 1, pp. 753–762).
37| “Wesele na wsi” (in Wiadomości Polskie Polityczne i Literackie No. 4, p. 2).
38| “Gołębie z placu Teodora” (in Wiadomości Polskie Polityczne i Literackie No. 7, p. 3).
39| “Entropia wzrasta do zera” (in “Nowa Polska”  vol. 3-4, pp. 218-225 [published as: “Entropia zbliża się do zera” – item 95]).
40| “Ogród Jezuicki” (in Nowa Polska vol. 6, pp. 307-351).
41| “Elektra” (in Nowa Polska vol. 8, pp. 524-531 [published as: “Wanda” – item 58; published as: “Co nowego w kinie?” – item 106]).
42| “Ludzie na wsi” (in Nowa Polska vol. 12, pp. 803–810 [published as: “PIM” – item 106]).

1945
43| “Kapitan Blood” (in Nowa Polska vol. 2, pp. 99-104).
44| “W Paryżu i w arkadii” (in Nowa Polska vol. 4, pp. 236-244 [published as: “In Paris and in arcadia” – item 84]).
45| “Uwagi i spostrzeżenia Fortunata Zajączkowskiego” (in Nowa Polska vol. 6, pp. 386-388).

1946
46| “Stacja Zielona” (in Wiek klęski. Almanach historyczno-literacki, “Orbis-Polonia” London, pp. 22-31).
47| “Rigor mortis” (in Nowa Polska vol. 2, pp. 803-810).

1947
48| “Polonez na pożegnanie ojczyzny” (in Tygodnik Polski No. 7, pp. 10-11).
49| “Krzemieniec” (in Wiadomości No. 27, p. 1).
50| “Dzień targowy” (in Wiadomości No. 41, p. 1).

1948
51| “Luizjana” (in Wiadomości No. 2, p. 2).
52| “W barze Harry’ego” (in Wiadomości No. 15, p. 2).
53| “Zamierzchłe echa” (in Wiadomości No. 24, p. 2 [Reprint. – item 94]).
54| “Oak Alley nad Missisipi” (in Wiadomości No. 28, p. 2).
55| “Cyklon” (in Wiadomości No. 36, p. 2).
56| “Spotkanie z Marsylianką” (in Wiadomości No. 41, p. 1 [published as: “La Marseillaise,” item 79; published as: “Marsylianka” – item 106]).
57| “Henry Bush i jego samolot” (in Wiadomości No. 43, p. 2).

1949
58| “Wanda” (in “Accent” vol. 10, No. 1, pp. 42-50 [published as: “Elektra,” item 41; published as: “Co nowego w kinie?” – item 106]).
59| “Playing Poker” (in The Nassau Litterary Review vol. 108, No. 2, pp. 9-11, pp. 19-21 [published as: “Poker w Gorganach,” item 106]).
60| “Tierra del Fuego albo Biały mazur” (in “Wiadomości,” No. 2-3, p. 1 [published as: “Tierra del Fuego,” item 85; published as: “Biały mazur” – item 106]).
61| “Jak się uczyli współcześni pisarze polscy. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’” (in Wiadomości No. 19, p. 3).
62| “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju. Nad Rodanem” (in Wiadomości No. 29, p. 1).
63| “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju. Wycieczka do miasta” (in Wiadomości No. 40, p. 2).
64| “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju. Fałszywy alarm” (in Wiadomości No. 43, p. 2).
65| “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju. Matuzalem” (in Wiadomości No. 45, p. 2).
66| “Madrygał dla Anusi” (in Wiadomości No. 49, p. 2 [published as: “Madrigal,” item 86]).

1950
67| “Meerschaum” (in Wiadomości No. 1, p. 2 [published as: “Kawaler z morskiej pianki,” item 106]).
68| “Coup de grâce” (in Wiadomości No. 4, p. 3).
69| “Pięć lat dzieciństwa” (in Wiadomości No. 21, p. 2 [published as: “Fragmenty,” item 106; published as: “Fragment of Work” – item 75]).
70| “Światy. Wstęp do dłuższej historii” (in Wiadomości No. 32-33, p. 3).
71| “Czuwanie i stypa” (in Kultura No. 2-3, pp. 119-130 [published as: “The Wake and the Repast,” item 74; published as: “Stypa” – item 106]).
72| “The little magazine” (in Kultura No. 6, pp. 118-121).
73| “Warianty,” Kultura No. 7-8, pp. 80-85).
74| “The Wake and the Repast” (in Furioso vol. 5, No. 1, pp. 21-33 [published as: “Czuwanie i stypa,” item 71; published as: “Stypa” – item 106]).
75| “Fragment of Work” (in The Chicago Review vol. 4, No. 2, pp. 3-14 [published as: “Pięć lat dzieciństwa,” item 69; published as: “Fragmenty” – item 106]).

1951
76| “Młodość utracona” (in Wiadomości No. 15, p. 1 [published as: “Meine liebe Mutter, sei stolz, Ich trage die Fahne,” item 106]).
77| “Jak wiosna przyjechała” (in Wiadomości No. 22, p. 2).
78| “Szpica” (in Kultura No. 7-8, pp. 61-65).
79| “La Marseillaise” (in Perspective vol. 4, No. 2, pp. 47-60 [published as: “Spotkanie z Marsylianką,” item 56; published as: “Marsylianka” – item 106]).

1952
80| [Autobiographical note] (in Kultura No. 6, p. 2).
81| “Dziewczyna z nóżkami na księżycach” (in Kultura No. 6, pp. 26-34 [published as: “The Girl With Her Reels Set On Half Moons,” item 87; published as: “Dziewczynka z nóżkami na księżycach” – item 106]).

1953
82| “O Stefci, o Chaimie Immerglücku i o scytyjskich bransoletkach” (in Wiadomości No. 6, p. 2).
83| “Deszcz” (in Wiadomości No. 26, p. 2).
84| “In Paris and in arcadia” (in The Paris Review No. 4, pp. 70-83 [published as: “W Paryżu i w arkadii,” item 44, 106]).

1955
85| “Tierra del Fuego” (in The Paris Review No. 8, pp. 84-96 [published as: “Tierra del Fuego albo Biały mazur,” item 60; published as: “Biały mazur” – item 106]).
86| “Madrigal” (in The Paris Review No. 10, pp. 83-95 [published as: “Madrygał dla Anusi,” item 66, 106]).

1957
87| “The Girl With Her Reels Set On Half Moons” (in New Directions in Prose and Poetry vol. 16, pp. 62-77 [published as: “Dziewczyna z nóżkami na księżycach,” item 81; published as: “Dziewczynka z nóżkami na księżycach” – item 106]).

1958
88| “Henry James” (in Kultura No. 3, pp. 124-127).
89| “Dwie wizyty” (in Wiadomości No. 19, p. 3).
90| “James Agee” (in Kultura No. 6, pp. 33-34).
91| J. Agee “Pochwalmy teraz sławnych ludzi. (Wyjątek)” [trans.] (in Kultura No. 6, pp. 34-38).
92| “Jeździec bez głowy” (in Wiadomości No. 32, p. 3).
93| “Pisarze emigracyjni a literatura krajowa. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’” (in Wiadomości No. 33, p. 4).
94| “Zamierzchłe echa” (in Nowy Świat. Weekly supplement Ogniwo No. 39, pp. 2-3 [1st print. – item 53]).
95| “Entropia zbliża się do zera” (in Nowy Świat. Weekly supplement Ogniwo No. 46, pp. 1-2 [published as: “Entropia wzrasta do zera,” item 39]).

1959
96| “Z kroniki o latającym domu” (in Wiadomości No. 18, p. 3).

1961
97| “Pejzaż ze wschodem słońca i obiektami ze stali” (in Kultura No. 10, pp. 41-45).
98| W.H. Auden “Ach co to za głos” [trans.] (in Kultura No. 10, pp. 46-47).

1962
99| R. Frost “Skarby skarb,” “Zamysł,” “Przystanąwszy pod lasem w zimowy wieczór” [trans.] (in Tematy No. 2, pp. 54-55).
100| R. Lowell “Cmentarz kwakrów w Nantucket” [trans.] (in Tematy No. 4, pp. 52-56).
101| [Rev.:] “Kartoteka” (in Ameryka No. 45, pp. 10-11).
102| “Pierścień z papieru” (in Kultura No. 11, pp. 36-40).

1963
103| “Symbol i kamień. Narodowa Świątynia Niepokalanego Poczęcia w Waszyngtonie” (in Ameryka No. 59, pp. 34-35).
104| “Paderewski” (in Ameryka No. 60, pp. 18-19 [signed: Z.H.]).
105| “Do dwu razy sztuka” (in Wiadomości No. 13, p. 3).
106| Pierścień z papieru. Instytut Literacki. Paris. (Biblioteka ‘Kultury,’ Vol. 86, pp. 247) [contains: “Stypa,” “Co nowego w kinie?,” “Coup de grâce,” “W Paryżu i w arkadii,” “O Stefci, o Chaimie Immerglücku i o scytyjskich bransoletkach,” “Poker w Gorganach,” “Meine lieber Mutter, sei stolz, Ich trage die Fahne,” “Madrygał dla Anusi,” “Deszcz,” “Polowanie z Maupassantem,” “Biały mazur,” “PIM,” “Jak wiosna przyjechała,” “Gołębie z placu Teodora,” “Dziwnie było bardzo, bo…,” “Jeździec bez głowy,” “Marsylianka,” “Dziewczynka z nóżkami na księżycach,” “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju,” “Kawaler z morskiej pianki,” “Pejzaż ze wschodem słońca i z obiektami ze stali,” “Henry Bush i jego samolot,” “Z kroniki o latającym domu,” “Pierścień z papieru,” “Fragmenty”].
107| “Strachy” (in Kultura No. 11, pp. 33-39).
108| R. Frost “Czarownica z Coös. (Wolny przekład z …)” [trans.] (in Kultura No. 11, pp. 39-42).

1964
109| “Fundacja Kościuszkowska i jej słownik” (in Ameryka No. 72, pp. 20-21).

1966
110| “Kaplica Matki Boskiej Częstochowskiej w Waszyngtonie” (in Ameryka No. 86, p. 20).
111| “Lili Marlene” (in Kultura No. 9, pp. 26-35 [item 118]).
112| “Lutnia albo Przewodnik po Żółkwi i jej pamiątkach, zebrał i do druku podał …” (in Kultura No. 11, pp. 3-17).

1967
113| “Ziarno polskie, niwa amerykańska. Zjazd Naukowców Polskiego Pochodzenia w Nowym Jorku” (in Ameryka No. 102, pp. 24-26).

1969
114| “Nietota” (in Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 36-44).
115| “Perekotypołe” (in Kultura  No. 7-8, pp. 19-26).
116| “To ja sam jestem Emmą Bovary…” (in Tematy No. 31-32, pp. 28-43).

1970
117| “El Pelele” (in Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 57-69).
118| “Lili Marlene” (in Explorations in Freedom: Prose, Narrative, and Poetry from Kultura ed. by L. Tyrmand [The Free Press, The State University of New York at Albany. Collier-Macmillan. New York] pp. 152-163 [item 111]).
119| “Baskijski diabeł” (in Kultura No. 5, pp. 47-57).
120| “Balon” (in Kultura No. 9, pp. 40-47).

1971
121| “Trzy” (in Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 61-68).
122| “Meldunek o nieprzybyciu Wełnowskiego” (in Kultura No. 7-8, pp. 55-63).
123| “Więzień z Isle of Ely” (in Kultura No. 12, pp. 27-34).

1972
124| “Z Laczczyny” (in Kultura No. 4, pp. 65-72).

1973
125| “Ptaki albo ‘Zanim zaczną schodzić się goście, przetańczmy jeszcze raz menueta…’” (in Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 51-62).
126| “Inwokacja do powiatu latyczowskiego” (in Kultura No. 7-8, pp. 75-80).

1974
127| “Tam, gdzie rosną poziomki – i gdzie pieprz rośnie…” (in Kultura No. 5, pp. 131-137).

1975
128| “Dziś, przedwczoraj, wczoraj, jutro…” (in Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 204-210).
129| “Z Roksolanii” (in Wiadomości No. 11, p. 1).

1988
130| “Pierścień z papieru”. Respublica. Lublin.
131| “Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice”. Instytut Literacki. Paris. (Biblioteka ‘Kultury,’ Vol. 446) [contains: R. Gorczyńska (E. Czarnecka) “Mięszkał ubogi szlachcic na Podolu…” (introduction); “Lutnia albo Przewodnik po Żółkwi i jej pamiątkach”; “Lili Marlene”; “To ja sam jestem Emmą Bovary…”; “Wesele na wsi”; “Entropia wzrasta do zera”; “Ogród Jezuicki”; “Kapitan Blood”; “Nietota”; “Perekotypołe”; “El Pelele”; “Baskijski diabeł”; “Balon”; “Światy. Wstęp do dłuższej historii”; “Warianty”; “Czuwanie i stypa”; “Zabawa w zielone” (1st print.); “Szpica”; “Do dwu razy sztuka”; “Meldunek o nieprzybyciu Wełnowskiego”; “Więzień z Isle of Ely”; “Ptaki albo ‘Zanim zaczną schodzić się goście, przetańczmy jeszcze raz menueta…’”; “Trzy”; “Złota hramota” (1st print.); “Inwokacja do powiatu latyczowskiego”; “Dziś, przedwczoraj, wczoraj, jutro…”; “Z Lacczyny”; A. Haupt “Zygmunt Haupt (1907–1975). Szkic biograficzny,” trans. R.G. (R. Gorczyńska)].

1989
132| “Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice.” Oficyna Literacka. Kraków.

1990
133| “Cyrk. Pierwszy dzień wojny” (in Kultura No. 6, pp. 30-36).

1991
134| “Ułan Czuchnowski” (in Kultura No. 4, pp. 40-44).
135| “Młodość utracona” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 5-7).
136| “Strachy” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 7-11).
137| “Czarownica z Coös. (Wolny przekład z Roberta Frosta)” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 11-12).
138| “Z Roksolanii” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 13-15).
139| “Tam, gdzie rosną poziomki – i gdzie pieprz rośnie…” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 16-19).
140| “Dwie wizyty” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 19-20).
141| “Jak się uczyli współcześni pisarze polscy. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 21-22).
142| “Pisarze emigracyjni a literatura krajowa. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’” (in Kresy No. 6, pp. 22-23).
143| “Listy do Tymona Terleckiego” (in Kresy No. 7, p. 36).
144| “Inwokacja do powiatu latyczowskiego” (in Kresy No. 7, pp. 37-40).

1992
145| [“Pierścień z papieru. Szpica”], L’anneau de papier. (trans.) A. Van Crugten and E. Destree-Van Wilder. Les Editions Noir sur Blanc. Montricher-Paris.

1997
146| “Tarok”; “Rigor mortis”; “Polonez na pożegnanie ojczyzny,” (ed. A. Madyda) (in Fraza No. 4, pp. 5-21).
147| “Pierścień z papieru”. Wydawnictwo Czarne. Czarne.
148| “Deszcz”. Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-Skłodowskiej. Lublin [contains: “Deszcz”; “Pierścień z papieru”; “Dziwnie było bardzo, bo…”].

1999
149| “Pierścień z papieru”. Wydawnictwo Czarne. Czarne.

2000
150| “Aspekt Śląska” (in Śląsk No. 5, p. 55).

2003
151| [“Pierścień z papieru”], “Ein Ring aus Papier. Erzählungen. Aus dem Polnischen übersetzt und mit einem Nachwort von Esther Kinsky. Mit einem Essay von Andrzej Stasiuk”. Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, [does not include: “Poker w Gorganach”; “Kawaler z morskiej pianki”].

2007
152| [“Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice”], “Vorhut. Erzählungen, Skizzen, Fragmente”. Aus dem Polnischen übersetzt und mit einem Nachwort versehen von Esther Kinsky. Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main (“Bibliothek Suhrkamp”) [does not include: “Lili Marlene”; “Baskijski diabeł”; “Do dwu razy sztuka”; “Meldunek o nieprzybyciu Wełnowskiego”; “Więzień z Isle of Ely”; “Ptaki albo ‘Zanim zaczną schodzić się goście, przetańczmy jeszcze raz menueta…’”; “Trzy”; “Złota hramota”; “Inwokacja do powiatu latyczowskiego”; “Dziś, przedwczoraj, wczoraj, jutro”; “Z Laczczyny”; included: “Kawaler z morskiej pianki”].
153| “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże collected, edited, and with an afterword by A. Madyda”. Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza Czytelnik. Warszawa [contains: PIERŚCIEŃ Z PAPIERU (1963): “Stypa”; “Co nowego w kinie?”; “Coup de grâce”; “W Paryżu i w arkadii”; “O Stefci, o Chaimie Immerglücku i o scytyjskich bransoletkach”; “Poker w Gorganach”; “Meine liebe Mutter, sei stolz, Ich trage die Fahne”; “Madrygał dla Anusi”; “Deszcz”; “Polowanie z Maupassantem”; “Biały mazur”; “PIM [II]”; “Jak wiosna przyjechała”; “Gołębie z placu Teodora”; “Dziwnie było bardzo, bo…”; “Jeździec bez głowy”; “Marsylianka”; “Dziewczynka z nóżkami na księżycach”; “Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju”; “Kawaler z morskiej pianki”; “Pejzaż ze wschodem słońca i obiektami ze stali”; “Henry Bush i jego samolot”; “Z kroniki o latającym domu”; “Pierścień z papieru”; “Fragmenty”; OSTATNI ZBIÓR OPOWIADAŃ (1972): “Wstęp”; I – “Lutnia”; “Lili Marleen”; “To ja sam jestem Emmą Bovary”; “Dwie wizyty”; II – “Nietota”; “Perekotypołe”; “El Pelele”; “Baskijski diabeł”; “Balon”; “Trzy”; III – “Światy”; “Warianty”; “Strachy”; “Zabawa w zielone”; IV – “Szpica”; “Do dwu razy sztuka”; “Meldunek o nieprzybyciu Wełnowskiego”; “Więzień z Isle of Ely”; “Z Laczczyny”; From OPOWIADANIA (1946): I – “Cztery pory roku – Entropia”; “Faites vos jeux!”; “Kiedy będę dorosły”; “Wesele u chłopów”; II – “O Pannie herbu Panna na Niedźwiedziu – Odwilż”; “Kulig”; “Wyjazd o świcie”; “Kapitan Blood”; “Appendicitis”; “Ogród Jezuicki”; “Wyspy Galapagos i wyprawa na Mount Everest”; “PIM [I]”; “Nuda”; III – “Pageant Ward – Cyrk”; “Polonez na pożegnanie ojczyzny. (Opowiadanie ułana Czuchnowskiego)”; “Pejzaż armorykański”; “Sur le pont d’Avignon”; “W drodze na morzu”; “Rigor mortis”; “Ułan Czuchnowski. (Opowiadanie dydaktyczne)”; UTWORY ROZPROSZONE (1937–1950): “Aspekt Śląska”; “Moi przyjaciele”; “Krzemieniec”; “Fluctuat nec mergitur”; “Wspomnienie z III Zawodów Szybowcowych w Rhön Polski-Ustjanowej”; “Tarok”; “Elektra [I]”; “Elektra [II]”; “Ułan Czuchnowski”; “Dzień targowy”; “Luizjana”; “W barze Harry’ego”; “Zamierzchłe echa”; “Oak Alley nad Missisipi”; “Cyklon”; “Czuwanie i stypa”; Afterword (A. Madyda)].

2009
154| “Z Roksolanii. Szkice, opowiadania, recenzje, warianty.” Collected, edited, and with an afterword by A. Madyda. Księgarnia Studencka. Toruń [contains: “Z Roksolanii”; I – “’Biosfera sztuki’. (Próba przykładu)”; “O poezji outsidera”; “Radio Alameda wzywa PBY na Pacyfiku!”; “Wojsko Stanisława Augusta”; “Zapiski autobiograficzne”: [1st version], [2nd version]; “Jak się uczyli współcześni pisarze polscy. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’”; “’The little magazine’”; “Czasopisma literackie w Stanach Zjednoczonych” [Radio broadcast]; “Henry James”; “James Agee”; “Pisarze emigracyjni a literatura krajowa. Odpowiedź na ankietę ‘Wiadomości’”; “Robert Frost”; “Ptaki albo ‘Zanim zaczną schodzić się goście, przetańczmy jeszcze raz menueta…’”; “Dzisiaj, przedwczoraj, wczoraj, jutro”; II – “Polowanie wigilijne”; “New York +70”; “Admirał Gaspar Hojeda”; “Pan Pickwick i dzieci. (À la manière Charles Dickens)”; “List z Arktydy”; “Paralela ironiczna”; “Hansomcab”; “Sprawa Wilsona. Biuletyn z gór”; “Wspomnienie o baterii motorowej”; “’Bateria śmierci’ 1. Pułku Artylerii Motorowej. W święto pułku”; “Święto 16. Dywizjonu Artylerii Motorowej” (Broadcast for 21st of September 1941); “Rigor mortis” [Fragment not included in final editing]; “W internacie ks. ks. Zmartwychwstańców”; “W szkole realnej”: [1st version], [2nd version]; “Zabawa w zielone” [1st version]: Zołota hramota; III – “Epilog. (Druga strona medalu w relacji uczestników)”; “Recital poetów lwowskich”; “Dwie recenzje”; “Święto 16. Dywizjonu Artylerii Motorowej”; “Stalin o językoznawstwie”; “’Kartoteka’”; “Symbol i kamień. Narodowa Świątynia ku czci Niepokalanego Poczęcia w Waszyngtonie” [Radio broadcast]; “Paderewski”; “Fundacja Kościuszkowska”; “Kaplica Matki Boskiej Częstochowskiej w Waszyngtonie”; “Polskie ziarno, niwa amerykańska. Zjazd naukowców polskiego pochodzenia w Nowym Jorku”; “Jan kardynał Król, arcybiskup Filadelfii”; “ Inwokacja do powiatu latyczowskiego”; “Tam, gdzie rosną poziomki – i gdzie pieprz rośnie…”; IV – “Powrót”; “Kapitan Blood” [Wersja druga]; “Stacja Zielona”; “Polowanie wigilijne z Maupassantem”; “Gołębie z placu Teodora” [Version from the Opowiadania volume]; “Symbol i kamień. Narodowa Świątynia Niepokalanego Poczęcia w Waszyngtonie, Paderewski” [Ameryka version]; “Fundacja Kościuszkowska i jej słownik”; “Ziarno polskie, niwa amerykańska. Zjazd naukowców polskiego pochodzenia w Nowym Jorku”; Bibliography of literary works by Zygmunt Haupt in 1934-1975 (A. Madyda); Afterword (A. Madyda)].

2014
155| “Listy do redaktorów ‘Wiadomości’.” Edited, and with notes by A. Madyda, consulting editor B. Dorosz, Nicolaus Copernicus University Press, Toruń.

ALEKSANDER MADYDA, PROF. | Professor at the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń. His fields of research are Polish literature of the 20th century, study of folklore, as well as textology and editing. In these fields he has published three monographs (“W poszukiwaniu jedności człowieka i świata. Folklor w twórczości Stanisława Vincenza,” Toruń 1992; “Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka,” Toruń 1998; “Haupt. Monografia.” Toruń 2012), four editions of poetry collections (M. Pawlikowska-Jasnorzewska “Poezje zebrane” vol. 1-2, Toruń 1993, [3rd ed.: Toruń 1997]; B. Leśmian “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1993 [3rd ed.: Toruń 2000]; H. Poświatowska “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1994; J. Czechowicz “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1997), two of narrational prose (Z. Haupt “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże,” Warsaw 2007; Z. Haupt “Z Roksolanii. Szkice, opowiadania, recenzje, warianty.” Toruń 2009), a tome of letters (Z. Haupt “Listy do redaktorów ‘Wiadomości’,” Toruń 2014), and numerous articles in magazines and joint publications.

1935
2| T. Hollender. “Lwów, który wreszcie przyszedł” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 4 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 28], p. 8 [1 Fig.]).
3| Z. Haupt, W.J. Turzański. “Cel” illustr. Z. Haupt (in: As No. 11, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [2 Fig.]).
4| M. Freudman. “Śmierć w Szanghaju” (in: As No. 16, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [2 Fig.]).
5| M. Cena. “Psi żurnal na rok bieżący” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 18 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 124], p. 11 [4 Fig.], p. 12 [2 Fig.]).
6| M. Cena. “Kot, który chadza sam mimo 30 wieków udomowienia” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 22 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 152], p. 8 [3 Fig.], p. 9 [4 Fig.]).
7| W.J. Turzański. “Pojedynek” (in: As No. 22, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [2 Fig.]).
8| A. Łączyńska. “Literatura na zielonej trawce” (in: Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 163, p. 2 [1 Fig.], p. 3 [2 Fig.]).
9| J.G. “W cztery oczy z monarchą największego imperium świata” (in: As No. 24, p. 4 [1 Fig.], p. 5 [1 Fig.]).
10| M. Cena. “Skrzydlata poczta” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 39 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 271], p. 11 [1 Fig.], p. 12 [5 Fig.]).
11| A. Baumgardten. “Karabin No. 10753“ (in: As No. 39, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [1 Fig.]).
12| Z. Haupt. “Symbolika kwiatów” (in: As No. 41, p. 7 [4 Fig.]).
13| A. Baumgardten. “Taniec i obyczaj taneczny” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 53 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 362], p. 8 [3 Fig.], p. 9 [2 Fig.]).

1936
14| Z. Haupt. “Curling w St-Moritz” (in: As No. 3, p. 29 [3 Fig.]).
15| W. hr. de Laveaux. “Dziś jest za późno” (in: As No. 6, p. 11 [2 Fig.]).
16| Z. Haupt. “Za rzeką Tweed leży Szkocja” (in: As No. 8, p. 8 [2 Fig.], p. 9 [2 Fig.]).
17| Z. Haupt. “Polo – sport high life’u” (in: As No. 11, p. 17 [3 Fig.]).
18| W.J. Turzański. “Biały mak” (in: As No. 27, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [2 Fig.]).

1937
19| M. Cena. “Szukamy polskich ogarów” (in: Kurier Literacko-Naukowy No. 2 [Ilustrowany Kurier Codzienny No. 14], p. 11[19] [2 Fig.]).
20| W.J. Turzański. “Mgła” (in: As No. 14, p. 9 [1 Fig.], p. 10 [1 Fig.]).
21| Z. Haupt. “Admirał Gaspar Hojeda” (in: Krytyka i Życie No. 17 [Dziennik Polski No. 113], p. 16 [1 Fig.].
22| Z. Haupt “Rodeo – święto kowboja,” in: As No. 17, p. 25 [2 Fig.]).
23| Z. Haupt. “Muzeum wojny w Paryżu” (in: As No. 24, p. 4 [4 Fig.], p. 5 [4 Fig.]).
24| Z. Haupt. “Wspomnienie z III Zawodów Szybowcowych w Rhön Polski – Ustjanowej” (in: Krytyka i Życie No. 29 [Dziennik Polski No. 202], p. 16 [1 Fig.], p. 17 [1 Fig.]).
25| W.J. Turzański. “Telefon z zaświatów” (in: As No. 34, p. 9 [1 Fig.]).

1938
26| W.J. Turzański. “Wystawa skrzydeł” (in: As No. 14, p. 8 [3 Fig.]).
27| Z. Haupt. “Szkocki pułk Argyll and Sutherland” (in: As No. 16, p. 8 [4 Fig.]).
28| Z. Haupt. “Panowie! Zaczynamy!” (in: As No. 29, p. 8 [3 Fig.]).
29| Z. Haupt. “Radio Alameda wzywa PBY na Pacyfiku!” (in: As No. 34, p. 8 [3 Fig.]).
30| Z. Haupt. “Wojsko Stanisława Augusta” (in: As No. 36, p. 8 [3 Fig.]).

1941
31| Z. Haupt. “Wspomnienie o baterii motorowej” (in: Dziennik Żołnierza No. 374, p. 2 [1 Fig.]; No. 375, p. 2 [1 Fig.]; No. 376, p. 2 [2 Fig.]).
32| Z. Haupt. “Bateria śmierci 1. Pułku Artylerii Motorowej. W święto pułku” (in: Polska Walcząca No. 40, p. 5 [1 Fig.]).
33| Z. Haupt. “W wędrówce na morzu. (Fragment z pamiętnika)” (in: Dziennik Żołnierza No. 403, p. 2 [1 Fig.]; No. 404, p. 2 [1 Fig.]).
34| Z. Haupt. “Dwie placówki” (in: Dziennik Żołnierza No. 421, p. 2 [1 Fig.]).

1974
35| Z. Haupt. “Joyce w karykaturze” (in: Wiadomości No. 29, p. 2 [1 Fig.]).

1975
36| Z. Haupt. “Z Roksolanii” (in: Wiadomości No. 11, p. 1 [8 Fig.]).

ALEKSANDER MADYDA, PROF. | Professor at the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń. His fields of research are Polish literature of the 20th century, study of folklore, as well as textology and editing. In these fields he has published three monographs (“W poszukiwaniu jedności człowieka i świata. Folklor w twórczości Stanisława Vincenza,” Toruń 1992; “Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka,” Toruń 1998; “Haupt. Monografia.” Toruń 2012), four editions of poetry collections (M. Pawlikowska-Jasnorzewska “Poezje zebrane” vol. 1-2, Toruń 1993, [3rd ed.: Toruń 1997]; B. Leśmian “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1993 [3rd ed.: Toruń 2000]; H. Poświatowska “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1994; J. Czechowicz “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1997), two of narrational prose (Z. Haupt “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże,” Warsaw 2007; Z. Haupt “Z Roksolanii. Szkice, opowiadania, recenzje, warianty.” Toruń 2009), a tome of letters (Z. Haupt “Listy do redaktorów ‘Wiadomości’,” Toruń 2014), and numerous articles in magazines and joint publications.

I. MONOGRAPHS

1998
1| A. Madyda. “Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka”. Toruń.

2011
2| D. Utracka. “Strzaskana mozaika. Studium warsztatu pisarskiego Zygmunta Haupta”. Toruń.

2012
3| A. Madyda. “Haupt. Monografia”. Toruń.

2015
4| A. Niewiadomski. “Jeden jest zawsze ostrzem. Inna nowoczesność Zygmunta Haupta”. Lublin.

II. ARTICLES AND STUDIES

1986
1| [K. Rutkowski] A.J. Rembowski. “Zygmunt Haupt: władca słów i pierścieni” (in: Kontakt No. 10).

1987
2| [R. Gorczyńska] E. Czarnecka. “Mięszkał ubogi szlachcic na Podolu…” (in: Kultura No. 11; Rpt. in: Z. Haupt, Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice, Paris 1989).

1988
3| M. Tomaszewski. “L’image des confins chez les romanciers émigrès: Czesław Miłosz, Józef Mackiewicz, Zygmunt Haupt, Włodzimierz Odojewski” (in: Les confins de l’ancienne Pologne. Ukraïne – Lituanie – Bielorussie. XVI–XX siècle. éd. par D. Beauvois, Lille).

1989
4| M. Jentys. ‘Myślenie musi być cienkie’. O pisarstwie Zygmunta Haupta (in: Kierunki No. 43, p. 10; Rpt. in: ibid. I światłem być, i źrenicą, Warsaw 1990).

1991
5| K. Rutkowski. “W stronę Haupta” (in: Teksty Drugie No. 1-2).
6| M. Tomaszewski. “Nad Seretem, czyli w Europie. O prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Teksty Drugie No. 1-2).
7| K. Rutkowski “Mizdra i lico, czyli o Haupcie” (in: Twórczość No. 6).

1993
8| A. Wierciński. “Elementy gawędowe w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: W kręgach baroku i barokowości. Studia. Academic editing: M. Kaczmarek. Opole).

1994
9| H. Gosk. Trwanie. (Z problemów twórczości Zygmunta Haupta) (in: Przegląd Humanistyczny No. 4); Rpt. as: “’A gdy to wszystko zapomnę…’ O znaczeniu retrospektywnej orientacji temporalnej dla utwierdzenia tożsamości ‘ja’ w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: ibid. A gdy to wszystko zapomnę… Szkice o polskim pisarstwie emigracyjnym XX wieku. Izabelin 1995).

1995
10| A. Madyda. “Krytyka o twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: ‘Wiadomości’ i okolice. Szkice i wspomnienia, ed. M.A. Supruniuk. Toruń); Rpt. as: “W oczach krytyki” (in: —. Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka. Toruń 1998).
11| S.W. Zając. “W poszukiwaniu formy pierwotnej: o strategii fragmentu na przykładzie ‘Entropii wzrastającej do zera’ i ‘Złotej hramoty’ Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Fa-Art No. 3).

1996
12| J. Tomkowski. “’Patchwork’, czyli o prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Szkice o polskich pisarzach emigracyjnych, Vol. 1, eds M. Kisiel and W. Wójcik, Katowice; Rpt. in: —. Pokolenie Gombrowicza. Narodziny powieści XX wieku w Polsce. Warszawa 2001).
13| A. Nawarecki. “Proza poszukiwań formalnych” [ch.: “Wobec autobiografii]” (in: Literatura emigracyjna 1939-1989, Vol. 2, ed. J. Olejniczak. Katowice).
14| B. Hadaczek. “’Święta Galilea’ Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Kresy w literaturze, Zeszyty Naukowe Uniwersytetu Szczecińskiego No. 157, Szczecińskie Prace Polonistyczne No. 7. Szczecin).
15| M. Zaleski. Formy pamięci. O przedstawianiu przeszłości w polskiej literaturze współczesnej. Warszawa, p. 50-66.

1997
16| H. Gosk. “Rodzimość i uniwersalizm w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Kresy No. 3).
17| S. Zając. “Ten ‘trzeci': krótko o prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Kresy No. 3).
18| A. Madyda. “Nieznane opowiadania Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Fraza No. 4).
19| A. Rzymska. “’Pulsujący hieroglif’ – cytaty w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Zmierzch świata? Artystyczne wizje społecznych przemian kulturowych. Materiały z sesji naukowej zorganizowanej 6–7 grudnia 1995 r. […] w Olsztynie, ed. D. Ossowska, Olsztyn).

1998
20| M. Kłosińska-Duszczyk. “Funkcjonalizacja przestrzeni w prozie Zygmunta Haupta i Czesława Miłosza. Kresy – Ameryka” (in: Przegląd Humanistyczny No. 3).
21| A. Madyda. “Obraz galicyjskich stosunków etnicznych w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: “O dialogu kultur wspólnot kresowych,” ed. S. Uliasza. Rzeszów).
22| D. Sapa. Między polską wyspą a ukraińskim morzem. Kresy południowo-wschodnie w polskiej prozie 1918-1988. Kraków, p. 119-130, 201-203.

2000
23| W. Lipowski. “’Dziś, przedwczoraj, wczoraj, jutro…’, czyli o ćwiczeniach pamięci Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Ruch Literacki, Vol. 3).
24| H. Gosk. “Wątek poszukiwania tożsamości w emigracyjnej prozie polskiej (na przykładzie utworów Zygmunta Haupta z tomów ‘Pierścień z papieru’, ‘Szpica’ oraz Leo Lipskiego ‘Dzień i noc’, ‘Piotruś’)” (in: Przegląd Humanistyczny No. 3).
25| S.W. Zając “Zygmunta Haupta wędrówka do światów najmniejszych” (in: Miniatura i mikrologia literacka, Vol. 1, ed. A. Nawarecki. Katowice).
26| S.W. Zając. “Haupt o Śląsku i o hałdzie” (in: Hałda. Materiały IV sesji Śląskoznawczej Pracowników Naukowych, Studentów, Gości Wydziału Filologicznego Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, eds. T.M. Głogowski and M. Kisiel. Katowice).

2001
27| S.W. Zając. “Fotografie i aspekty Śląska. ‘Fotografie ze Śląska’ Jarosława Iwaszkiewicza i ‘Aspekt Śląska’ Zygmunta Haupta – próba prezentacji” (in: Śląskie Miscellanea, Vol. 14, eds J. Malicki and Z. Kadłubek. Katowice).
28| Z. Trysiński. “Z problematyki związków Andrzej Stasiuk – Zygmunt Haupt: rekonesans historycznoliteracki” (in: Zeszyty Naukowe WSP w Rzeszowie, Historia Literatury, Vol. 7. Rzeszów).
29| A. Rzymska. “Gawęda i antygawęda w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: ibid. Gawędowy ‘ikonostas’. Współczesne powroty gatunku. Olsztyn).

2003
30| A. Madyda. “Kim jest Nietota? O pewnej postaci z opowiadań Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Literatura utracona, poszukiwana czy odzyskana. Wokół problemów emigracji. Studia i szkice, eds Z. Andres, J. Wolski. Rzeszów).
31| D. Utracka. “Bohater domu-drogi wobec ‘teatru powtórzenia’. O labiryntowych ścieżkach retoryki memorycznej w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Wędrować, pielgrzymować, być turystą: podróż w dyskursach kultury, ed. P. Kowalski. Opole).
32| M. Kłosińska-Duszczyk “Ameryka jako przestrzeń emigracyjnej codzienności. (Na podstawie tekstów Jana Lechonia, Zygmunta Haupta oraz Czesława Miłosza)” (in: Historia niechciana. Historie obecne. Szkice o literaturze polskiej XX wieku, eds H. Gosk, A. Zieniewicz, K. Krowirandy, and Ż. Nalewajk. Warszawa).
33| E. Wiegandt “Wszystko-nic Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Ulotność i trwanie. Studia z tematologii i historii literatury. eds A. Czyżak, Z. Kopeć. Poznań; Rpt. in: ibid. “Niepokoje literatury. Studia o prozie polskiej XX wieku.” Poznań 2010).

2005
34| “Pamięć, słowo, ból (proza Zygmunta Haupta)” (in: B. Kaniewska, A. Legeżyńska, P. Śliwiński Literatura polska XX wieku, Poznań).
35| S.W. Zając. “(Nie)spotkanie Ameryki. Zygmunta Haupta ‘Podróż do Louisiany’” (in: Pisarz na emigracji. Mitologie, style, strategie przetrwania, academic editing H. Gosk, A.S. Kowalczyk. Warszawa).
36| D. Utracka. “Formy dyskursu w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Formacje dyskursywne w kulturze, językach i literaturze europejskiej. Prace Interdyscyplinarne, Vol. 4, ed. L. Rożek. Częstochowa).
37| Z. Wasilewska-Lipke. “Pisarz-emigrant we własnym teatrze pamięci – na podstawie tekstów ‘Drugiej Emigracji’” (in: Pisarz na emigracji. Mitologie. Style. Strategie przetrwania, academic editing. H. Gosk, A.S. Kowalczyk. Warszawa).
38| S. Zając. “Jak czytać Haupta? Prowokacja interpretacyjna” (in: Paradygmat pamięci w kulturze. Prace dedykowane Antoniemu Czyżowi, eds A. Borkowski, M. Pliszka, A. Ziontek. Siedlce).

2006
39| D. Utracka. “Aliniowość, rozpad, chaos, czyli o tekstowych figurach entropii w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Efekt motyla. Humaniści wobec teorii chaosu, eds K. Bakuła and D. Heck. Wrocław).
40| D. Utracka. “’Homo in rebus’. Dom rzeczy jako reistyczna figura nostalgii w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Prace Naukowe Akademii im. Jana Długosza w Częstochowie, Filologia Polska, Historia i Teoria Literatury, Vol. 10, eds E. Hurnikowa, L. Rożek. Częstochowa).
41| D. Utracka. “Intymne przestrzenie pamięci w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Intymność wyrażona, eds M. Kisiel, M. Tramer. Katowice).
42| D. Utracka. “Topos labiryntu a dyskurs memoryczno-egzystencjalny w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Literackie drogi wobec mitu, ed. And introduction by L. Wiśniewska with M. Gołuński. Bydgoszcz).

2007
43| A. Madyda. “Skrajna niepraktyczność: o Zygmuncie Haupcie w stulecie urodzin” (in: Twórczość No. 7).
44| A. Madyda. “Co nowego u Haupta?” (in: Proza polska na obczyźnie. Problemy – dyskursy – uzupełnienia, eds Z. Andres, J. Pasterski i A. Wal, Vol. 1. Rzeszów).
45| J. Borowczyk. “Granice narodów, granice duszy: o prozie Haupta i Wołoszynowskiego” (in: Kresy – dekonstrukcja, eds K. Trybuś, J. Kałążny, R. Okulicz-Kozatryn. Poznań).
46| S.W. Zając. “Zygmunt Haupt: Wstęp do teorii ‘nowej wiarygodności’” (in: Pisarze teoretykami literatury?… (Szkice), academic edition J. Olejniczak and M. Bogdanowska. Katowice).

2008
47| A. Skonieczna. “Człowiek w relacji z człowiekiem – o prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Episteme No. 6).
48| A. Madyda. “Nożyczki i czerwony atrament. O praktykach redaktorskich Mieczysława Grydzewskiego (na przykładzie twórczości Zygmunta Haupta z lat 1947-1948” (in: Polonistyczne drogi. Księga jubileuszowa poświęcona profesorowi Władysławowi Sawryckiemu w 70. rocznicę urodzin, ed. M. Wróblewski. Toruń).
49| A. Madyda. “Krzemieniec w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Dialog Dwóch Kultur. Muzeum Narodowe Ziemi Przemyskiej. Przemyśl); Rpt. in: Przedziwne światy. Prace z historii i teorii literatury ofiarowane dr. hab. Jerzemu Z. Maciejewskiemu,” eds K. Ćwikliński, R. Moczkodan and R. Sioma. Toruń 2010).
50| D. Utracka. “Między całością a fragmentem. Tożsamości rozproszone i zwielokrotnione w literackich obrazach ‘mitologii wykorzenienia’” (in: Tożsamość i rozdwojenie w perspektywie mitów, ed. L. Wiśniewska. Bydgoszcz).

2009
51| A. Niewiadomski. “Niespokojna świadomość,. O ,manierystycznej, architektonice arcydzieła Zygmunta Haupta” (in:  Kresy No. 3).
52| P. Rambowicz. “’Potrafię skazać się na nicość’. Kreacje przestrzeni w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Powrześniowa emigracja niepodległościowa na mapie kultury nie tylko polskiej: Paryż, Londyn, Monachium, Nowy Jork, eds V. Wejs-Milewska and E. Rogalewska. Białystok).
53| S. Zając. “Inna emigracja Zygmunta Haupta. Przyczynek do biografii” (in: Paryż – Londyn – Monachium – Nowy Jork. Powrześniowa emigracja niepodległościowa na mapie kultury nie tylko polskiej, eds V. Wejs-Milewska and E. Rogalewska. Białystok).

2010
54| J. Wierzejska. “Nietota, czyli Melancholia Erotica. O funkcji niektórych motywów folklorystycznych w prozie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Tekstualia No. 2).
55| D. Utracka. “Między świadectwem miejsca a autobiografią ducha. Tradycje intymistyki w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: W stronę szczęścia. Ireneuszowi Marianowi Świtale księga pamiątkowa, ed. W. Słomski. Warszawa).
56| S.W. Zając. “Zygmunt Haupt – albo w Paryżu, albo w Białokamiennej” (in: Obrazy stolic europejskich w piśmiennictwie polskim, ed. A. Tyszka. Łódź 2010).
57| A. Niewiadomski. “Teatrum Schulza i czeluść Haupta. Dwa nieba nad Galicją” (in: Inspiracje Schulzowskie w literaturze. Materiały naukowe IV Międzynarodowego Festiwalu Brunona Schulza w Drohobyczu, ed. W. Meniok. Drohobycz 2010 [2011]).

2011
58| M. Jaworski. “Problematyka modernizmu europejskiego w twórczości Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Pamięć modernizmu, eds M. Gorczyński, M. Mordarska. Wrocław).
59| A. Madyda. “Obraz wojny w opowiadaniach Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Wojna i postpamięć, eds Z. Majchrowski and W. Owczarski. Gdańsk).
60| A. Niewiadomski. “’Dziwna’ nowoczesność Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Formacja 1910. Świadkowie nowoczesności, eds D. Kozicka, T. Cieślak-Sokołowski. Cracow 2011 [2012]).

2012
61| M. Sabal. “Inne spojrzenie na II wojnę światową. Opowiadanie Zygmunta Haupta ‘Barbarzyńcy patrzą w krajobraz podbitego kraju’” (in: Dydaktyka literatury i języka polskiego. Stan badań i perspektywy badawcze, eds S.J. Żurek and A. Adamczuk-Stęplewska. Lublin 2012 [2013]).
62| J. Wierzejska. “Retoryczna interpretacja autobiograficzna pisarstwa Zygmunta Haupta” (in: ibid. Retoryczna interpretacja autobiograficzna. Na przykładzie pisarstwa Andrzeja Bobkowskiego, Zygmunta Haupta i Leo Lipskiego. Warszawa).

2013
63| A. Niewiadomski. “Proza Zygmunta Haupta albo inna twarz nowoczesności. (Projekt interpretacyjny)” (in: “W kręgu literatury i języka, Vol. 3, ed. M. Michalska-Suchanek. Gliwice).
64| A. Nęcka. “’To ja sam jestem Emmą Bovary’. Zygmunt Haupt” (in: ibid. Emigracje intymne. O współczesnych polskich narracjach autobiograficznych. Katowice).
65| T. Mizerkiewicz. “’Ale będę. Ale będę’. Proza Zygmunta Haupta a nowoczesna kultura obecności,” (in —. Po tamtej stronie tekstów. Literatura polska a nowoczesna kultura obecności. Poznań).

2014
66| P. Panas. “’Jeździec bez głowy’ Zygmunta Haupta. Fragmenty dyskursu symbolicznego” (in: Symbol – znak – rytuał. Od narodzin do śmierci, eds J. Marecki and L. Rotter. Kraków).
67| E. Dutka. “Topografia fascynacji i zdziwienia. Krzemieniec Marii Danilewicz Zielińskiej i Zygmunta Haupta” (in: id. Próby topograficzne. Miejsca i krajobrazy w literaturze polskiej XX i XXI wieku. Katowice).

2015
68| A. Madyda. “Najnowsze badania życia i twórczości Zygmunta Haupta (tendencje i postulaty)” (in: Od New Orleans do Mississauga. Polscy pisarze w Stanach Zjednoczonych i Kanadzie po II wojnie światowej (najnowsze badania), ed. B. Dorosz. Instytut Badań Literackich PAN – Wydawnictwo. Warszawa).

III. LITERARY CRITICISM

1950
1| M. Sambor. “Opowiadanie Haupta [‘Coup de grâce’]. Do redaktora ,Wiadomości” (in: Wiadomości No. 15-16).

1963
2| P.H. [J. Stempowski]. “Nagroda Literacka ‘Kultury’ za rok 1962 – Zygmunt Haupt” (in: Kultura No. 1-2, pp. 195-196; Rpt. in: Kresy 1991, No. 6).

1970
3| H. Dorski. “List do redakcji ‘Kultury’” (in: Kultura No. 9).

1987
4| R. Gorczyńska [E. Czarnecka]. “’Mieszkał ubogi szlachcic na Podolu…’” (in: Kultura No. 11; Rpt in: Z. Haupt. Szpica. Opowiadania, warianty, szkice. Paryż 1988).

1990
5| P. Szewc. “Iwaniuk, Haupt, Stempowski” (in: Życie Warszawy No. 241).

1994
6| K. Rutkowski. “Arcydzieło nie chciane, czyli nieobecność Haupta” (in: Gazeta o Książkach, supplement of: Gazeta Wyborcza No. 7).

1995
7| J. Tomkowski. “’Nie jestem Szeherezadą’. (Nad prozą Zygmunta Haupta)” (in: List Oceaniczny No. 27).

1996
8| A. Stasiuk. “Zygmunt Haupt” (in: Tygodnik Powszechny No. 26, p. 11; Rpt. in: Z. Haupt. Pierścień z papieru. Czarne 1997).

1997
9| M. Wilczyński. “Zygmunt Haupt, sto gram i piwo” (in: Czas Kultury No. 1).
10| K. Rutkowski. “Pasaż z czarnym półksiężycem” (in: Gazeta Wyborcza No. 29).
11| J. Pilch. “Urywek dziania się jednej sprawy” (in: Tygodnik Powszechny No. 27).

1999
12| A. Madyda. “Pisarz intrygujący,” interview by R. Moczkodan (in: Przegląd Artystyczno-Literacki No. 3).
13| T. Sobolewski. “Pytania z bezkresu – o Zygmuncie Haupcie” (in: Gazeta Wyborcza No. 109).

2000
14| S. Zając. “Śląskie drogi Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Śląsk No. 5).

2007
15| P. Śliwiński. “Zapomniany mistrz z Podola” (in: Dziennik No. 196).

2008
16| K. Rutkowski. “Jak ten kamień” (in: Twórczość No. 3).

2010
17| T. Zubiński. “Osobny i jedyny” (in: Akant No. 3).

IV. REVIEWS

1963
1| J. Bielatowicz. “Nowy talent emigracyjny” (in: Wiadomości No. 31).
2| J. Czapski. “O Haupcie” (in: Kultura No. 10; Rpt. in: ibid. Tumult i widma. Paris 1981; ibid. Czytając. Cracow 1990).

1989
3| S. Mazurek. “Silva rerum. O pisarstwie Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Tygodnik Solidarność No. 9).
4| J. Zieliński. “Ocalić przez wymienienie” (in: Res Publica No. 7).

1990
5| J. Jarosławski [S. Mazurek]. “Gawędy mistyczne” (in: Kultura Niezależna No. 50; Rpt. under real name in: Kultura Niezależna No. 63).
6| D. Mazurek. “Świat Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Kresy No. 2-3).
7| D. Morawski. “Fragment szkicu. (O ‘Szpicy’ Zygmunta Haupta)” (in: De Lirnik No. 2).
8| D. Morawski. “O ‘Szpicy’ Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Kresy No. 2-3).
9| G. Filip. “Dwie fikcje” (in: Odra No. 5).
10| M. Lubelska. “Sprawy naturalne i kosmiczna skala” (in: Brulion No. 14-15).

1991
11| K. Orłoś. “Kazimierz Orłoś poleca” (in: “Gazeta Wyborcza No. 230).

1997
12| A. Madyda. “Haupt krajowy” (in: Fraza No. 4).
13| P. Siemaszko. “Świat zapamiętany” (in: Topos No. 4).
14| Lektor [alias] (in: Tygodnik Powszechny No. 25).
15| Z. Skrok. “Porażony pamięcią” (in: Literatura No. 9).
16| P. Śliwiński. “Pamięć, słowo, ból” (in: Res Publica Nowa No. 10).
17| D. Kulik. “Mozaiki Seurata” (in: Dekada Literacka No. 10-11).
18| W. Kaliszewski. “Przymierze z przyszłością” (in: Więź No. 12).

1998
19| J. Galant. “W poszukiwaniu straconej tożsamości” (in: Polonistyka No. 2).
20| G. Kiełb. “Pierścień z papieru” (in: Arcana No. 3).
21| L. Szaruga. “Koniec opowieści” (in: Kwartalnik Artystyczny No. 3).
22| M. Rabizo-Birek. “Haupt – nasz współczesny” (in: Twórczość No. 5).
23| A. Czachowska. “Nieuchwytny” (in: Przegląd Artystyczno-Literacki No. 10).

1999
24| A. Szeffel. “JAK-GDYBY” (in: Odra No. 10).

2007
25| J. Gizella. “Wołyńskie powidoki” (in: Arcana No. 6).
26| J. Poprzeczko. “Haust Haupta” (in: Polityka No. 49).
27| M. Sendecki. “Zygmunt Haupt u bram” (in: Przekrój No. 46).
28| M. Radziwon. “Odbieram, co moje” (in: Gazeta Wyborcza No. 271).
29| A. Poprawa. “Hauptwerk” (in: Książki w Tygodniku, supplement of: Tygodnik Powszechny No. 50).
30| A. Biały. “Słowem malowane” (in: Splot No. 3).
31| P. Śliwiński. “Zapomniany mistrz z Podola” (in: Dziennik No. 196).
32| J. Sobolewska. “Proza najwyższych lotów” (in: Dziennik No. 265).

2008
33| P. Małochleb. “Cały Haupt” (in: Odra No. 7-8).

2009
34| J. Sobolewska. “Narkotyczna proza Haupta” (in: Polityka No. 29).
35| W. Kaliszewski. “Głosy z Roksolanii” (in: Nowe Książki No. 11).

2010
36| P. Tański. “Z Roksolanii” (in: Głos Uczelni No. 2).
37| P. Tański. “’Hansomcab’. O książce ‘Z Roksolanii’ Zygmunta Haupta” (in: Polonistyka No. 4).

ALEKSANDER MADYDA, PROF. | Professor at the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń. His fields of research are Polish literature of the 20th century, study of folklore, as well as textology and editing. In these fields he has published three monographs (“W poszukiwaniu jedności człowieka i świata. Folklor w twórczości Stanisława Vincenza,” Toruń 1992; “Zygmunt Haupt. Życie i twórczość literacka,” Toruń 1998; “Haupt. Monografia.” Toruń 2012), four editions of poetry collections (M. Pawlikowska-Jasnorzewska “Poezje zebrane” vol. 1-2, Toruń 1993, [3rd ed.: Toruń 1997]; B. Leśmian “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1993 [3rd ed.: Toruń 2000]; H. Poświatowska “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1994; J. Czechowicz “Poezje zebrane,” Toruń 1997), two of narrational prose (Z. Haupt “Baskijski diabeł. Opowiadania i reportaże,” Warsaw 2007; Z. Haupt “Z Roksolanii. Szkice, opowiadania, recenzje, warianty.” Toruń 2009), a tome of letters (Z. Haupt “Listy do redaktorów ‘Wiadomości’,” Toruń 2014), and numerous articles in magazines and joint publications.