Welcome, once again, to German Literature Month! For the third year in a row, Lizzy and Caroline have thrown down the gauntlet of thirty days of German-language books and reviews, and I (as ever) am more than happy to take up the challenge. The shelves have been tidied up, the Kindle's fully charged, and the German Literature Month bus has come back from the workshop ready to take us all on a magical mystery tour through the corners of the G-Lit world :)
This year's event has female writers as its focus, and while I'm not promising that I'll manage a fifty-fifty split, I am hoping to review a few books by women over the course of the next month - starting today...
*****
Judith Hermann is a writer who first came to my attention when I read Alice for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shadowing in 2012. Last year, I also tried and enjoyed her first book, Sommerhaus, später (Summerhouse, Later), so it was only a matter of time before I got around to her only other work of fiction. It's a longer collection, and this time we've left Berlin (mostly) behind - we're on the road...
Nichts als Gespenster (Nothing but Ghosts***) only contains seven stories, but it clocks in at about 320 pages. While there are a couple of thirty-page stories, the longest, at sixty pages, is actually more of a novella. The focus is on travel and seeing new places, but Hermann's protagonists are far from being happy travellers. They are mainly women in their thirties with a lot of stuff to work through - in Hermann's drab, grey world, travel appears to be a sort of therapy.
In 'Acqua Alta', a depressed woman who has just turned thirty travels to Venice to meet up with her parents. Far from enjoying the trip, she feels a little worse than before, particularly after a chance encounter on a crowded bridge. 'Zuhälter' ('Pimp') takes place in the Czech spa town of Karlovy Vary, and the narrator once again sets out on a trip she's not really sure she wants to make:
"Vielleicht dachte ich daran, daß ich diesen Moment gerne hinausgezögert hätte, den Moment, bevor jemand die Tür aufmacht und mein Gesicht einen Ausdruck annimmt, um den Ich nicht weiß, aber ich bin mir sicher, daß ich auch daran nicht gedacht habe."
p.158 (Fischer Verlag, 2012)
"Perhaps I was thinking that I would have liked to draw out this moment, the moment before someone opens the door and my face takes on an expression, I don't know what kind, but I'm sure that I wasn't thinking that at all." (My translation)
Travelling is good, but arriving isn't always desirable...
There's a sense of strangeness running through the stories. 'Ruth (Freundinnen)' ('Ruth
(Girlfriends)') is a tale of a bizarre, unconventional one-night stand, where the narrator betrays her closest friend with an arrogant gigolo. In 'Zuhälter', one of the characters suffers a laughing fit half-way through, one which lasts so long that it goes beyond the funny or hysterical and begins to verge on creepy. One of the strangest stories though is the last one, 'Die Liebe zu Ari Oskarsson' ('The Love for Ari Oskarsson'), which begins with a trip to the Norwegian town of Tromsø and ends with an unusual night on the tiles...
In addition, the (mainly) first-person narrators don't exactly make it easy for you to immerse yourself in the stories, as many of them aren't very nice. The voice of 'Wohin des Wegs' ('Where Are You Going?') is a calculating, selfish woman, leading her friend on and trampling over his feelings. While this is a story where she's looking back at past events, there are enough clues to suggest that this will happen again to her present partner. The betrayal in 'Ruth (Freundinnen)' is, as discussed, a particularly nasty one, and even in 'Acqua Alta' the seemingly passive protagonist comes across as a selfish, childish woman.
On finishing the collection though, the dominant idea for me was the collection of strong, overbearing men. The women in the collection, while ostensibly in the spotlight, are there merely to suffer in silence. There's abuse both physical (a sleazy man on a bridge in 'Acqua Alta', a slap and a spit in 'Zuhälter') and mental (the way Johannes drags his friend to Karlovy Vary in 'Zuhälter' and Raoul's unbearable arrogance in 'Ruth (Freundinnen)'). Even the men who aren't trying to assert their dominance are such large, loud characters (like Jonas in the Icelandic-set story 'Kaltblau' ('Cold-Blue')) that the women fade in their larger-than-life presence. This female passivity pervades the book, and many readers might be put off by the constant macho displays.
Some of the stories don't really work, and as they're all long, that's an issue. Some do though, and they're usually the ones where a little hope shines through. 'Kaltblau' is one I enjoyed, a story with a great dual-strand plot and a slight twist at the end. While the ending is not exactly happy, there is a glimmer of hope.
The title story 'Nichts als Gespenster' ('Nothing but Ghosts') is another I enjoyed, a laid-back tale of a chance encounter in desert-town USA. Again, we meet a man who at first glance appears to be the typical Hermann alpha male:
"Das, was an Buddy anziehend war, worauf Felix reagierte - Ellen hatte später oft nach einem Wort dafür gesucht und schließlich eines gefunden, das ihr nicht gefiel und das sie dennoch für passend hielt -, war seine Dominanz. Seine Sicherheit, so etwas wie eine sichtbare Kraft und Konzentration, die ihn umgab, er war ein Wortführer, ohne daß er viel gesprochen hätte." (p.214)
"What was attractive about Buddy, and what Felix reacted to - later Ellen often searched for a word to describe it and finally found one which didn't please her and yet which she found suitable - was his dominance. His certainty, something like a visible strength and concentration which surrounded him, he was a spokesman, a leader, without actually saying much."
Buddy though is actually one of the more sympathetic men in the book, and his charisma is perhaps what Hermann was trying to portray all along...
I've had a good look around at other reviews, and this book seems to have got a very mixed reception online and in the press. The disappointment some readers have felt is
probably due to the desire for another Sommerhaus, später - and to the frustration at not getting it. Nichts als Gespenster is a much darker book, in many ways even more so than Alice. It's not for everyone, but there are some enjoyable stories here; you just have to look hard enough :)
*****
***There is an English-language version available: Nothing but Ghosts, published by Fourth Estate, translated by Margot Bettauer Dembo
Today's post will be taking us on another trip to Berlin (and I can assure you that it won't be the last time we'll be visiting the German capital in November...). Unlike our previous journey though, this one is a lot more contemporary, and we'll be rubbing shoulders with the cool kids of the capital. It's time to put your going-out clothes on...
*****
Earlier this year, along with some other members of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize 'Shadow Panel', I read Judith Hermann's third book, Alice, a collection of linked pieces about men, love, friendship and death. While the rest of the panel disliked the book (and that's putting it diplomatically!), I was a little less critical, seeing enough there to warrant giving the writer's work another go. All of which leads us to today's book, Hermann's first publication, Sommerhaus, später (Summerhouse, Later).
Sommerhaus, später is a collection of nine short stories, many of which are set in or around post-reunification Berlin.
It's a celebration and a recreation of the lives of young Berliners, carefree people who have school and study (mostly) behind them and the cares of the world too far in their future to worry about. It's a time for drink, drugs, sleeping around and lazy days in the summer sun. Don't worry though - the writer has a slightly darker angle on these sunny days.
You see, life among the young and beautiful isn't always what it's cracked up to be. In Camera Obscura, for example, a beautiful young woman finds herself attracted to a rich,intelligent and successful man - who happens to be ugly. It's a bleak story, one which lays bare the shallowness of the woman's existence. This shallowness is also revealed in Bali- Frau (Bali Woman), where a typical night of wanton drunkenness somehow merges into real life, a place Hermann's characters would rather avoid.
Even when the characters do have (slightly) more settled lives, they are a long way from having actually grown up. In Rote Korallen (Red Corals), a woman is trapped in a relationship with an older man who refuses to talk to her, wallowing as he is in his own self-pity. Relationships are also at the centre of one of my favourite stories, Sonja, in which a young artist begins a platonic relationship with a young woman (behind his girlfriend's back), one he is unable to break off, even when his friend begins to demand more from him.
One of the themes in Sonja, regret, is echoed in several of the stories. The title story revolves around a man with a dream of finding and repairing the perfect summerhouse, and the woman who can't make up her mind to step out of her infantile existence to join him - until, that is, it is already too late.
Often, there is a sense that the characters could actually be (may already be) happy, if only they could see it. In Sonja, the main character looks back and says:
"Heute denke ich, daß ich in diesen Nächten wohl glücklich war. Ich weiß, daß sich die Vergangenheit immer verklärt, daß die Erinnerung besänftigend ist. Vielleicht waren diese Nächte auch einfach nur kalt und in zynischer weise unterhaltsam. Heute aber kommen sie mir so wichtig vor und so verloren, daß es mich schmerzt."
pp.69-70 (Fischerverlag, 2009)
"Today, I think that I was actually happy on those nights. I know that the past has a habit of changing itself, that memories can be soothing. Those nights may simply have been cold and cynically entertaining. Today though they appear so important, and so lost, that it hurts."
He doesn't know what he has until it has gone, for good...
Hermann doesn't stay in Berlin for the entire collection though. Hurrikan (Something farewell) is set in the Caribbean, possibly Jamaica, and its characters are mostly Germans (an ex-pat and his visitors), whiling away the time before two storms (one literal, one metaphorical) hit the island. Hunter-Tompson-Musik, another of my favourite stories, takes place in New York, where an old man waiting for death in a cheap, squalid hotel finds a spark of life (and regret) in a chance encounter with a lost stranger. Getting out of Germany doesn't make life any easier for Hermann's creations though - they suffer from the same sense of Weltschmerz that those in Berlin do.
The final story, Diesseits der Oder (This Side of the Oder), is a slightly different tale, but a fitting one to end the collection. A middle-aged man living in his summer retreat near the Polish border grudgingly allows the daughter of an old friend to stay for a few days. This time, we get to see Hermann's generation through the eyes of a grumpy old man, one who has been there and done that long ago - and who knows how shallow and empty it all is. He muses about the young woman's life, thinking:
"Im Sommer laden sie sich Freunde in alte Autos, fahren an die Märkische Seeplatte, saufen Wein bis zum Umfallen und denken - das, was uns geschieht, geschieht niemandem sonst. Schwachsinn. Alles Schwachsinn." p.176
"In the summer, they pile into old cars with their friends, drive to the Märkische Lakes, drink wine until they collapse and think - what we experience, happens to nobody else. Rubbish. Complete rubbish."
By the end of the story though, he too is lost in regret, secretly yearning for the good old days. And that is where the beauty of the collection lies. While the people in Sommerhaus, später can be arrogant, selfish and stupid, they are having the time of their lives -
and nobody can take that away from them...
I enjoyed this collection, a lot more so than I did Alice, and I'm already looking forward to trying Hermann's other book of short stories Nichts als Gespenster (Nothing but Ghosts). This is a fairly easy read (I raced through it in a day), but it's one I intend to come back to. There is definitely something about Hermann's writing, and the stories she creates... although it could just be that I'm at that age where I look back at my younger days with regret ;)
It seems as if we've been on our Independent Foreign Fiction Prize journey for a good while now, but there's many a book to review yet before we sleep. Today we're returning to Germany for a little book all about a certain woman. Her name? Well...
*****
Alice by Judith Hermann (translated by Margot Bettauer Dembo, I read the original German version)
What's it all about?
Alice is a novel (of sorts) consisting of five loosely-connected stories set at five different points in the life of Alice, a young(ish) German woman. The five stories are given the names of five different men - and with good reason. Where many writers would have chosen to explore Alice's character through her relationships with the gentlemen in question though, Hermann has a slightly different take on proceedings. You see, in each of the sections, the man whose name graces it is destined to die...
This book then is about how Alice copes with the loss of these men - ex-boyfriends, family friends, relatives, partners. As Stu quipped, there's very much a feeling of the Angela Lansburys about poor Alice, with death stalking any man she becomes acquainted with. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, to lose one friend may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose five looks like downright negligence...
Many of my fellow shadow panellists have taken this approach in their reviews of Alice, and about half-way through the collection I could see why. By the middle of the third story, it all seemed a little familiar: another bedside, another man about to shuffle off this mortal coil, another final visit for Alice to make... As I moved onto the fourth of the stories, one dealing with the death of an uncle (before Alice had even been born), I was mentally resigning myself to writing a politely-negative review.
However, by the end of the last story, it had all come together. While the first three stories did blend into each other a little, the fourth represented a turning point in the novel. For the first time, Alice appeared to be pro-active, taking control of her life and actively seeking out information about her dead uncle. When it came to the final part, it felt as if this is what the book had been building to; a series of lesser upsets helping Alice to cope with a final, major loss.
It also helped that the final chapter brought together the loose ends, repeat performances from some of the minor characters from the first four stories assisting in connecting the different stages of Alice's life. The simple, elegant, descriptive language of the book is a metaphor for the clear thinking Alice becomes capable of in the final section. While she seems a little lost and directionless earlier in the book, searching for a meaning to it all in the face of some pretty traumatic experiences, by the final story she appears to have recognised that life is actually about living, about noticing the things around you. The extended description of her lazy morning at the swimming pool, the frequent mentions of flowers, the light, the smells...
There's something very Japanese about Alice, the subdued, implicit nature of the book making it hard to really understand, or sympathise with, the title character. I can understand why many of the people I've spoken to about the book don't really like it, but I'm probably a little more invested than most given the time I spent in Germany - there's a lot here that's very familiar. I've heard that this is not Hermann's best work; however, there's enough here for me to give her other books a try. And that can't be a bad recommendation :)
Did it deserve to make the shortlist?
No. On my list, it's currently about seventh (of twelve), and I can't see it staying there until the end of my longlist reading. It never quite manages to achieve what it sets out to do, despite its elegance and poignancy. It's one I'll probably read again at some point (and it persuaded me to buy one of her earlier books), but I was honestly surprised to see it make the shortlist. As for my fellow shadow panellists - their reaction was somewhat stronger ;)
Will it go all the way?
Not if the opinions of my fellow panellists have anything to do with it! While most of the books on the longlist have had both their supporters and detractors, Alice has probably been the one book that the crew has universally found dull. We were all dumbstruck that Scenes from Village Life didn't make the cut and disappointed that Next World Novella is no longer in the running. I was very pleased that Please Look After Mother didn't get through, but I have a strong feeling that Alice is the token female, German, short story entry, knocking off three categories in one short book. It will not win.
Probably ;)
*****
Another one polished off, only four more to go. Next time, we're staying in Europe, and it's going to be huge. I mean *huge*. No, I mean ***HUGE***!
You know what's coming...
In addition, the (mainly) first-person narrators don't exactly make it easy for you to immerse yourself in the stories, as many of them aren't very nice. The voice of 'Wohin des Wegs' ('Where Are You Going?') is a calculating, selfish woman, leading her friend on and trampling over his feelings. While this is a story where she's looking back at past events, there are enough clues to suggest that this will happen again to her present partner. The betrayal in 'Ruth (Freundinnen)' is, as discussed, a particularly nasty one, and even in 'Acqua Alta' the seemingly passive protagonist comes across as a selfish, childish woman.
