Snow White Must Die - Nele Neuhaus

Translated from the German 'Schneewittchen muss sterben' by Steven T. Murray

Published in the UK by Pan Macmillan

Although the fourth book in the series (as I understand it) of crime novels by Nele Neuhaus, featuring Detective Superintendent Oliver von Bodenstein and Detective Inspector Pia Kirchhoff of the Division of Violent Crimes at the Regional Criminal Unit in Hofheim, this is in fact the first book in that series to be translated into English.

The story is set in the small village of Altenhain, near Frankfurt in Germany, and features an intriguing scenario. We meet Tobias Sartorius as he is released from prison, having served over ten years for the murder of his girlfriend Stefanie – the Snow White of the book’s title – and his friend Laura. His conviction, when he was just twenty-years-old, was brought about due to circumstantial evidence – the two girls’ bodies have never been found. Needless to say, when Tobias returns to his hometown, he doesn't meet with a very warm welcome, plus he finds his parents have separated, his father is a broken man, and Tobias can see little future for himself now.

His return causes a strong reaction and reminds many people in the village of a past that many of them would rather not think about, and brings things to the surface that they would have preferred to keep concealed. As tensions rise, and violent attacks are made on Tobias and his family, detectives Kirchhoff and von Bodenstein are called in to look into the events and keep watch over this unsettled village that has had its equilibrium severely rattled. The more the detectives, in particular Kirchhoff, learn about the place and the past, the more they start to realise that there is a lot about the murders eleven years ago of Snow White and Laura that is still unknown. But the villagers quickly close ranks and it’s clear they won’t give up their dark secrets without a fight, and things go from bad to worse when another young woman goes missing.

I really enjoyed escaping into this mystery story. I could sense the suspicion and intrigue brewing within the small village and I was gripped as the secrets were uncovered and the surprising and shocking revelations came out throughout the tale. There is an intriguing and varied cast of characters, including Amelie, a newcomer to the village from Berlin, and I grew to care about some of them and feel for the innocent victims of the wrongs that had been and were still being perpetrated. Nele Neuhaus conveys the sadness and pain still suffered by those affected by the deaths years ago. As I read, I began to question what had happened in the past, and I had my suspicions as to who was hiding something; I think there are clues along the way that can be picked up on, though I’d be surprised if anyone could figure it all out. For me this wasn’t one of those crime novels that I absolutely raced through very fast, it was a little slower, but I don’t mean that in a particularly negative way, only that there was more to think about and contemplate with the many characters and strands to the well-plotted tale, and it kept me engrossed and guessing throughout.

We have some short sections that delve into the background and home lives of both of the two lead detectives, too, with a headache for Kirchoff regarding her house, and with a serious shock for von Bodenstein with regards to his personal life.  In a way I wanted to stay with the main storyline, but the diversions were never too long and they add colour and insight into the way the pair behave professionally. In respect of the personal lives of the detectives, it’s a bit of a shame that we have the fourth book in the series translated first, but this is what seems to happen from time to time with translated fiction.

Nele Neuhaus initially self-published her novels, and now is traditionally published. I enjoy reading fiction in translation, and in particular that set in Germany. I’ve read several reviews of this novel and noted that many UK reviewers have commented on the US English of this translated version. I can see their point; at times I was a little unsure about some of the ways things had been rendered, but if it were a choice of a US English translation or none at all, I’ll still take this one. After reading and enjoying this one, I would definitely read more and I certainly hope others in the series will be translated; otherwise I might have to follow my husband’s suggestion and try reading another of the books in the original German. It’s nice to see this translated novel on the Richard and Judy Autumn 2013 book club list.

Reviews from other bloggers - Raven Crime Reads | Crime Fiction Lover | Kittling: Books

Someday we'll tell each other everything - Daniela Krien

Translated from the German by Jamie Bulloch - German title 'Irgendwann werden wir uns alles erzählen.'

‘I think about my own secret and realise that there are things which can be said straightaway, others need time, and some cannot be told at all.’

I was keen to read this book as I love stories set in Germany, in particular those set in the recent past. It’s the story of a sixteen-year-old girl, Maria, becoming awakened to adult life and experiences. It is set in summer 1990 and the period just after, in the GDR, which will soon be the former East Germany; the Berlin Wall having fallen, and reunification of the country fast approaching. Maria has moved in with her boyfriend Johannes, and the rest of the Brendel family, living quietly in the countryside. Maria has dropped out of school and escapes into books; her thoughts return several times to the book she is reading as the story unfolds – The Brothers Karamazov – and she draws parallels from this tale and events in her own life. One day she meets Henner, an older, damaged man, and the two embark on a passionate, unpredictable love affair.

It is a time of exploration and desire in Maria’s life, and the author captures this first passionate, at times violent, love, the need she feels for Henner, the impression he has made on her. ‘I can feel Henner’s hands – coarse, gentle, brutal, expectant – and I long for them…’ Maria is insightful enough to realise that this affair will impact deeply on her. ‘A life can be changed by a single moment.’ She is discovering her own identity day by day. ‘I’m not the same girl I once was. But who am I?’ She feels the strength of Henner’s desire for her, and it is a contrast to her relationship to Johannes now; though she thinks he loves her, his real passion has become his photography, and she things he ‘doesn’t see me any more, all he sees is pictures.’ She has a conscience; she acknowledges to herself that the lies she is telling and her actions in deceiving the Brendels are bad. She suspects that old Alfred knows everything and will expose her eventually. I felt a tension building in the story as the affair gathered momentum and I was compelled to find out what would happen. I was shocked that she had this affair and was still living all the while with her boyfriend and his family, yet I could believe it.

Just as events are tumultuous for Maria, so the country around her is unsettled and changing. The fascinating times and momentous changes in Germany then are not just a backdrop; Daniela Krien incorporates this nicely into her tale and into the characters’ lives, and it is all the more authentic bearing in mind that the author grew up in the East herself. Initially we learn via Maria that the fall of the Wall and the events surrounding it ‘went practically unnoticed here on the farm. They stared at the television pictures from Berlin as if they were from another country.’

As time moves on, there’s a moving reunion as a relative unseen for many years visits the Brendels from the West, and a couple of characters take a trip into the West too. Perhaps unsurprisingly, for the elder lady of the family, Frieda, the trip to the West is difficult and unsettling. For Maria and Johannes it is an adventure to head to Munich; only Maria’s second trip to the West. Her observations come thick and fast, impressing her, then leaving her feeling unsure about it all; ‘The sounds and smells of the West are different….I stare at people. It’s so different here, so self-confident, so assured, so hard to describe… I’m holding a tiny notebook. I’d planned to write down the things I saw that were new to me, things I’d sometimes longed for. And now I realise that everything is new to me, I’d have to write it all down: the smell of the shops, the cleanliness of the streets, the bright facades of the houses, women’s fashion, the excellent coffee, the beauty of of the women here…I don’t write down anything and suddenly my heart feels heavy.’ For Siegfried, Johannes’ hard working father, it is an enlightening, eye-opening experience to discover the different farming methods and structures in the West, and he returns to the East with his mind overflowing with ideas for improvement on his own farm.

The author has written an intimate first person narrative that drew me in to the story and held my interest. The style of writing, the spare prose, suits the tale, and the translation captures it all so well, and reads very smoothly indeed. I hope it will reach many more readers thanks to being available in English. I was intrigued to find out what Maria would do, and how things would develop. She can fall back on her unhappy mother only so much, and her absent father has caused much pain in her life. It seems unusual that she has moved to live away from her mother, but the way of life with the Brendels is happier and more structured and she grows fond of Johannes’ family, helping them and becoming more and more involved in the duties on the farm and in the shop, and also learning some of their secrets. Daniela Krien nicely portrays the happy domesticity and hard work on the farm, and there is a strong sense of place in the book..

Though not a long book, this was a very satisfying, thoughtful read, which made me pause and think from time to time. It didn’t need to be any longer, for me. I felt I got a sense of all the supporting characters, but all were just that; a well drawn supporting cast for a dramatic period in Maria’s life. I thought this was a super story and a remarkably promising debut novel, so much encapsulated into under two hundred pages that really captured the passion, excitement and discovery of love and desire in a girl on the cusp of womanhood, when emotions are heightened. Maria felt real; a dreamer, a helpful hard working girl, conflicted and flawed, lying and feeling guilty and torn, and all the more convincing for being so rounded. I would say this is definitely an author to watch. 

Published by MacLehose

Find out more here.

Thank you to the publisher for kindly sending me a copy of this novel to read and give an honest review.

This is another read for my 2013 Translation Challenge hosted by Curiosity Killed The Bookworm.

Book Beginnings (10) - Someday We'll Tell Each Other Everything by Daniela Krien

Gilion at Rose City Reader hosts Book Beginnings on Fridays

The idea, as stated on the host's blog, is 'to share the first sentence (or so) of the book you are reading, along with your initial thoughts about the sentence, impressions of the book, or anything else the opener inspires.' There's a hash tag #BookBeginnings for twitter etc too, and a master linky list on the host's blog. I've got a couple of books on the go at the moment so I've just picked one out to mention here.

My Book Beginning

Someday We'll Tell Each Other Everything by Daniela Krien 

(translated from German by Jamie Bulloch)

Published by MacLehose Press

'It is summer, a wonderfully hot summer. At the farm the buildings are ranged around three sides of a yard. In the middle is the long, detached house, which has two floors and a large attic; the barn, on the left-hand side, has large wooden doors at the front and back. A few metres behind it is a wide, low wooden building - the sawmill. Meadows and pastureland stretch down to the river; a short way upstream, just before a weir, is a dilapidated shed.'

I've been really looking forward to reading this one, and I'm intrigued by what I've read so far. The setting and the period both appeal to me. I think the opening places a lot of importance on the sense of place. Looking forward to reading on!

Synopsis from goodreads:

It is summer 1990, only months after the border dividing Germany has dissolved. Maria, nearly seventeen, moves in with her boyfriend on his family farm.

A chance encounter with enigmatic loner Henner, a neighbouring farmer, quickly develops into a passionate relationship. But Maria soon finds that Henner can be as brutal as he is tender – his love reveals itself through both animal violence and unexpected sensitivity. Maria builds a fantasy of their future life together, but her expectations differ dramatically from those of Henner himself, until it seems their story can only end in tragedy.

Someday We’ll Tell Each Other Everything is a bold and impressive debut in which love and violence, conflict and longing, are inextricably entwined.

The Aftermath - Rhidian Brook

The year is 1946, and the setting is a country that has been destroyed, where we are taken to a city that lies in ruins, and introduced to a people, many of whom have been displaced and are hungry. This is Hamburg, Germany and this is the scene of this remarkable novel. Colonel Lewis Morgan is entrusted with the role of overseeing the rebuilding of Hamburg in the British Occupied Zone of the newly carved up post World War II Germany, and with the de-Nazification of the people. His wife Rachael and son Edmund come over from England to join him. They lost their other son in the war and Rachael is still grieving very deeply. Lewis requisitions an elegant house on the banks of the river Elbe, but unlike others who force out the owners, he allows the resident German family, consisting of widower Lubert and his unhappy daughter Freda to remain in their home, living in the top floor apartment, whilst his family lives below. This unconventional arrangement forms the intriguing backdrop of the story.

We learn of brief moments in the lives of each of them, Lewis and Rachael, and the children Edmund and Freda. For all of them, for all of Germany too, it is the aftermath of something enormous. Also we meet some children reduced to living off whatever they can find, steal and barter with, the main character amongst these being the charismatic but vulnerable Ozi. The chapters move between all of them throughout the story, allowing the author to depict many sides to the situation, and give an adult's and a child's perspective. But the narrator didn't feel intrusive; rather the characters were allowed to speak for themselves. I think there were times when I wanted to be back with the scene or characters we had just left, which tells me that I was involved with the story.

Lewis is a kind man, showing understanding towards the Germans and comprehension of the realities of the situation the people are now facing; whatever they have done, whatever has gone before, he is trying to be practical in dealing with the present. His differing stance and approach is one of the main aspects of the story that stood out for me. Others are much more severe, perhaps understandably so. The contrasts in behaviour certainly challenge our preconceptions. Lewis is a fascinating man, professional in his work and a compassionate character, who has very much separated his home and working lives, his mind mirroring Germany itself, with its new occupiers. Rachael observes that her husband's thoughts are divided into different areas:

'She could see he was preoccupied. Preoccupied with the occupied. His mind was divided into two zones, the larger, and by far more interesting, being the zone of work, with its needy subdivisions. He was fine as long as the other zone - the domestic zone inhabited by her and Edmund, the Luberts, the staff - was able to take care of itself with minimal input from him...but just for now she wanted him to engage with her realm, however small.'

Indeed it is his working life that is the sphere he feels more at ease in; comprehending how to renew his relationship with his wife and surviving son after the war seems much more of a battle than the other one he faces; after one all too brief intimate moment 'his mind had already returned to the zone where he felt safest and more effective: to the less complicated needs of a thousand faceless Germans and the rehabilitation of a country.' The fact that this mammoth task facing him seems less difficult than rebuilding his familial relationships shows just how hard this latter task feels for him. He is out of practice with regard to this side of life, and now, being back on intimate terms together 'suddenly required an ability to interpret and understand the nuances of a dialect Lewis had not spoken for over a year.'

Rhidian Brook tackles the subject of guilt and innocence, as the British assess Germans to try and determine the extent of their wartime activities and involvement with the Nazis. People were assessed using a Fragebogen - a questionnaire - 'to determine the degree of a German citizen's collaboration with the regime.' He demonstrates how easy it is to view the situation as black and white, but suggests that we need to look deeper. When he himself is questioned, Lubert realises that, despite his explanations, the man questioning him sees elements of his past as all being part of, or linked to, the Nazi regime. 'How simple this mathematics was: an equation that always ended 'equals guilty'. The numbers and fractions that got you there were unimportant.'

Music is important to Rachael, and it is a connection between her and Herr Lubert. She is determined at first to keep herself distant from him and Freda, or as much as possible given that they are, after all, still under the same roof, but it doesn't take long before 'the careful lines she had planned to lay down - had started to lay down - were already being crossed.' We wonder if this is a sign of things to come. Meanwhile Edmund forms his own bonds amongst the displaced children scavenging and hiding in nearby properties, and demonstrates his own kindness, as well as a touching innocence at times. He has missed his father and has 'a whole war's worth' of questions for him.

There are some well-observed moments even of the minutiae of life in those strange times; witness the 'three officer's wives, comparing household inventories', about which Brook wittily writes that 'it was testament to the miracle of British bureaucracy that even in these bankrupt times it could find within its broken and bust self the wherewithal to decide that a captain's wife did not need a four-place tea set, that a major's needed a full dinner service, and that only the commanding officers' wives should have a port decanter.'

There is some stunning imagery and poetry to the prose that I loved and which made this novel a joy to read for me; Rhidian Brook has a lovely way with words. This description of the weather struck me: 'pregnant grey-black snowclouds loomed, ready to dress the village in fairy-tale clothes.' 

And I loved this striking and very poignant image of a ruined church: 'The facade of a church stood on one side of the road, with only sky for stained glass and the wind for a congregation.'

Later, there is a suggestion that the house itself is judging Rachael; 'It looked to Rachael as if the house were narrowing its eyes at her. The dusk made a grimacing smile of the slats on the balcony.'

I thought this description of a fire was wonderful, too; 'A fire was a theatre in its own right and this one was loud and lively, full of intriguing plots and sub-plots.'

I really, really liked this book. It was surprising, shocking and thrilling at times, and engaging throughout. It deals with some big themes; love, passion and separation, loss, lies and a nation's guilt, and asks difficult questions that can make you feel uneasy or make you reconsider how you had viewed people; it certainly makes you think. I am always interested in fiction that deals with Germany in this period and I think this is a very readable, compelling new novel to add to that field. After hearing about this story I was excited about reading it and I wasn't disappointed. I feel like I could write and write about it, both in terms of language and storylines, so I think it would be a fabulous novel for bookgroups as there are so many fascinating issues arising that could be discussed and debated. It is also going to be made into a film I believe. One of my favourite reads so far in 2013. 

Published by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Books

review copy from the amazon vine program

Fear - Stefan Zweig

Translated from the German by Anthea Bell

'...her fear was waiting, impatient to take her in its grasp...'

This novella of less than a hundred pages was written almost a century ago by Stefan Zweig yet the themes of love and affairs, the search for excitement and passion, the guilt and the fear of discovery of infidelities are eternal ones that are just as relevant today. As the narrative commences, we meet Irene Wagner as she leaves the home of her lover, a young pianist, to return to her easy, comfortable bourgeois life, home and family. However, as she endeavours to overcome the fear that hits her upon leaving his arms, she is horrified to encounter his former mistress, who proceeds to blackmail her.

Zweig makes such accurate observations about human behaviour and relationships, and in particular here, such striking insights into a woman’s thoughts and emotions. It’s a beautifully written, intelligent and deeply insightful study of a woman seeking something beyond her bourgeois married life, and this English translation is excellent and a pleasure to read. I'm so glad that Zweig's works are available to a wider audience now. 

Published by Pushkin Press

originally reviewed for newbooks magazine

Journey into the Past - Stefan Zweig

Translated from the German by Anthea Bell

‘Ah, the dark, endless years between then and now, a grey sea between shore and shore, between heart and heart!’

This novella by Stefan Zweig is so beautifully written and even in a short work such as this, there were so many sentences and passages I found myself marking to return to and enjoy again.

The story is of a man born into poverty, working for little money as a private tutor, who takes up a position offered to him by a famous industrialist which enables him to raise up from his humble beginnings, and whilst employed he meets and falls deeply in love with the wife of his employer. He is given a great career opportunity, which involves relocating overseas for two years, to Mexico. Despite his love, he goes, and the two keep in touch by letter, focused on meeting once again once the two years have passed. However, the onset of World War I then serves to keep the two separate for many years longer.

Eventually they meet again, and the novella begins with them taking a train journey together again after all the years apart. As they travel, the recollections begin to flow and the reader learns how they met as he embarks on the journey into the past.

‘And while the rattling wheels invisible below them rolled onward, into a future that each of them imagined differently, the thoughts of both returned in reverie to the past.’

At times the feelings expressed and the behaviour are so deeply romantic; I was struck by the lengths he goes to in order to keep her letters safe and dry and close by him all the time whilst he is in Mexico. Zweig uses language so effectively to capture and convey human emotions and passions. The translation reads very well throughout.

Journey into the Past took hold of my heart and drew me into the intensity of feeling that once existed between this man and woman; it made me curious as to whether all that remained between them now was nostalgia or whether any of that once deep connection remained. I find the author’s words captivating and his understanding of human relationships and human nature so true and believable.

I have previously read The Post Office Girl, and Journeys, by Stefan Zweig, and next on my list of his works to read is Chess. 

Published by Pushkin Press

I bought my copy of this novella.


Read as part of the 2013 Translation Challenge 

Every Seventh Wave - Daniel Glattauer

Translated from the German by Katharina Bielenberg and Jamie Bulloch

‘A wave that broke free, changing everything, recreating the landscape, leaving nothing the same as before.’

Every Seventh Wave is the sequel to the novel Love Virtually. (You can read my review of Love Virtually here.) Readers of that first installment will know that we were left wondering what would happen with Emmi and Leo, our two protagonists, at the end of that book. Now is our chance to discover what happens next...

It’s quite difficult to say a lot about this follow-up without including any spoilers, so I will try and be very careful in my review, but if it seems quite short, it may be because I needed to avoid mentioning much of the story. 

Once again Emmi and Leo are corresponding with each other via email. (Although readers were left uncertain at the end of the first book as to whether they would be in contact again, I think it’s fair to say that if you’ve gotten as far as thinking about reading the second book, it’s not too much of a spoiler to say that they do start to communicate again – otherwise there wouldn’t really be a second book!) What is for the reader to discover though, and not for me to reveal here, is how this romantic correspondence develops, and whether anything else will happen between the pair - will their love ever transcend the boundaries of email and become the real thing? After all, as Leo tells Emmi; ‘I’m sorry to say that happiness is not made of emails.’

The format of the novel, written totally in emails just like the first book, is a very effective idea and it is very well executed by the author. The exchanges are very often short and fast, the conversation zipping back and forth; this makes for quick and dramatic reading.

Without seeing each other’s faces, there is always room for misinterpretation and doubt; there’s a risk that one turn of phrase or sentence that is perhaps not quite clear in meaning could be misconstrued and thereby damage the bond that they share. The words in the emails that Emmi and Leo exchange enable a strong impression of each of the two characters to form in the reader’s mind.

The storyline builds with tension and uncertainty, and kept me turning the pages. At times I was frustrated by the behaviour of Emmi in particular, and I think I warmed more to Leo and empathised with him. They are both flawed in their own ways and this makes them all the more believable. This sequel sees Emmi and Leo discussing aspects of their separate lives, including each other’s current partner, and wondering if there will ever be a real life, away from the relative safety of hiding behind the computer screen, that will involve the two of them being together.

I loved revisiting these two characters, and reading their exchanges once again; they are at times very witty and funny, at other times full of anxiety and uncertainty, and sometimes so beautiful and passionate, but always with that very strong emotional connection between them. I felt by turns sad, delighted, anxious, frustrated and more by the two of them as I read.

The author has created two characters with a strong dynamic between them that makes for compelling reading. The way the idea of what happens with 'every seventh wave' is incorporated into the storyline is lyrical and apt. A word on the translation; it is beautifully done, I couldn’t fault it.

If you read and enjoyed Love Virtually, I would definitely recommend reading Every Seventh Wave and continuing the journey alongside Emmi and Leo.

Published by Maclehose

The story is being read on BBC Radio 4 on February 14^th 2013 by David Tennant and Emilia Fox - click here to find out more.

Thanks very much to the publisher for kindly sending a copy of this novel for review. 

You can follow the twitter account for Love Virtually @LoveVirtually

Read as part of the 2013 Translation Challenge

The Post Office Girl - Stefan Zweig

‘She has begun to find out who she is, and, having discovered this new world, to discover herself.’

Christine Hoflehner is the post office girl of the title, working in a village branch in Klein-Reifling, Austria, in the years after World War One. Her days are identical, each spent working away at the post office, just earning enough to make ends meet, and then returning to the small home she shares with her ailing mother. There is the constant awareness of most things being ‘too expensive’, of having to scrimp and save to survive.

Then one day an unexpected telegram arrives from Christine’s American aunt, a wealthy woman, inviting her to stay with her and her husband at a resort in the Swiss Alps. Not having had a break, let alone a holiday in years, after initial fear and apprehension Christine accepts the initiation. Traveling to meet them she is painfully aware and self-conscious as to her appearance, but as the journey goes on she becomes aware of the sights outside the train carriage window, and it dawns on her, with joy and surprise, that there is a whole world which she has never seen.

‘Indifferent and without desires before, now she’s beginning to realize what she’s been missing….This is her first glimpse of the unimaginable majesty of the Alps, and she sways with surprise…if not for the accident of this journey, she herself would have died, rotted away, and turned to dust with no inkling of their glory.’

Her stay at the resort with her aunt and uncle will irrevocably alter her life. She discovers a world of luxury, freedom and pleasure, surrounded by pretty clothes, beautiful interiors, exciting people, and she is intoxicated and totally swept away by it all. There are none of her usual worries about lack of money, of boredom and routine; everything is new and exciting, the world is there to be discovered, people to meet and places to see. She undergoes such a change in all aspects of her life; it is like a real Cinderella story, from rags to riches.

On waking on her first morning in the hotel, ‘she looks and around and remembers everything – vacation, holiday, freedom, Switzerland, her aunt, her uncle, the magnificent hotel! No worries, no responsibilities, no work, no time, no alarm clock! No stove, no one waiting, no pressure from anyone: the terrible mill of hardship that’s been crushing her life for ten years has ground to a halt for the first time….She feels self-confident and happy as never before.’

Suddenly having to return to her former life, to her job at the post office, to wear her old clothes again, to return to the village, having tasted this alternative, leaves Christine utterly devastated and ashamed. Looking at her old clothes in the hotel wardrobe, the language conveys how disgusted and black she feels about them and the life they remind her of; ‘the hated blouse she came in, dangling there as white and ghastly as a hanged man.’

Back in Klein-Reifling, ‘everything hideous, narrow, disagreeable about this little world she’s been pushed back into digs in its barbs until she can’t even feel her own pain.’ A chance meeting with an old friend of her brother-in-law in Vienna one Sunday, someone with whom she feels a common bond, will shape her life going forward.

What a moving, emotional novel that sees the human spirit briefly reach such happiness and then return to such deep despair, driven by a glimpse of what wealth can offer and dragged down by grinding poverty in the post war years. I feel the author has captured the drudgery and monotony that can overshadow a life, as well as the potential beauty. He has so convincingly demonstrated, through Christine, the highs and lows of capitalist society, and how this can affect one woman’s life. I felt such sympathy for her, having her hopes for a different life so suddenly raised and just as suddenly shattered.

The language is beautiful, the story compelling, and the pain palpable. This work was found after the author’s death by suicide in 1942. I would highly recommend it. 

I'm so glad that German Literature Month has meant that I finally read this novel.

Published by Sort of Books

I bought my copy of this book.