Jan Hanč

Jan Hanč in 1940

Jan Hanč (born May 30, 1916 in Plzeň , † July 19, 1963 in Prague ) was a Czech athlete and writer. At that time he was Czech champion in the 100-meter run and participant in the 1936 Olympic Games. Member of Group 42 . His literature is characterized by hints of criticism of society and culture, which made it particularly important before the Prague Spring and after the end of the East-West conflict .

Jan Hanč was born as the son of a vehicle designer in Pilsen and grew up with his brother, Oldřich Hanč , in Prague. He graduated from business school and worked for the Czech fruit importer Pragofruct for a long time.

After the dissolution of Group 42 in 1949, Jan Hanč suffered from great loneliness. Out of great self-doubt, he destroyed a large part of his work. All of his documents had the same title: "Události" (Events). This alone shows the irony with which Jan Hanč wanted to do justice to the fact that even small incidents in the life of a simple person take on the dimensions of events and their assessment in truth always depends on the perspective of the beholder.

Excerpts from his texts

“I know of no other expression of the spirit that can convince my heart that it does not beat for free than literature. However, 14 years ago literature died here. What is considered literature today is literature only to the extent that artificial roses can be recognized as real. It is a failure, even if the shape and color are identical, even if you manage to create an artificial rose fragrance, it is a failure even if the rose is a thousand times more durable. Literature is the miracle of life that cannot be directed by a ministry. The mummification of the deceased writers, by which I mean the exaggerated preservation of tradition, causes the living to die. This is as ghastly as not giving children food or laying orchids on graves. "

“It's not me, but someone of much greater power, of a power that I cannot imagine, that determines the meaning of my existence and its duration, my happiness or my suffering. Without his will there is neither a genius nor an idiot, neither beauty nor ugliness. Some will say it was just a coincidence. You have an explanation for everything. However, there is no such thing as “coincidence”. It is not a coincidence that the sun rises, nor is the rise and fall of something as ephemeral as me. However, my mind is unable to grasp it. How can I be proud if I only understand what has no meaning? "

Works (selection)

• Události . Torst, Prague 1995, ISBN 80-85639-54-8 .