Oschmann examines ideas of East German identity 30+ years after German reunification, and he does so through the lens of postcolonial and other modern academic theories. I rather liked his tone of anger and exaggeration; it gave me plenty of food for thought.

Currently reading this with my grade 10; they seem genuinely interested. This will be their first time reading a dramatic text, so I‘m excited too.

An essay exploring the meaning of the metaphorical canary in the coalmine for our day and age, this wasn‘t as sharp as Schalansky‘s usual writing. I‘m really just tempted to reread her previous book now.

(Catching up on some stuff I finished a while ago)

What a mess.

(Not the tagged book)

A slim volume of short stories about Germans doing weird or mundane things, marred by narrators who repeatedly use uncomfortably racist language. I guess this is a kind of commentary on the subject matter, but it kept me from fully enjoying these stories. Judging by the amount of angry pencil scribbles in my library copy, one of my predecessors wasn‘t too fond of it either.

The new Asterix is no continent-spanning adventure but a slightly more low-key, almost psychological story about the villagers being brainwashed by a smooth-talking influencer. Although it often felt too topical and zeitgeisty for its own sake, I can‘t say I didn‘t enjoy it.

It‘s Klein‘s trademark hallucinatory prose and it even works in a story that starts out as mundane as this one: a sports journalist and his young colleague head out to investigate – well, what exactly? I completely feel at home in Klein‘s strange, avuncular style, which is also every character‘s mode of speaking and thinking. Great stuff.

There is an interesting story somewhere in here – the protagonist navigating a nameless city ravaged by environmental disaster –, but almost no plot, no tension, no incentive to keep reading. Unfortunately, I didn‘t find the protagonist‘s stilted poetic musings all that inspiring, while all the interesting ideas serve as no more than a vague backdrop: the sickness, an imploding food industry etc.

A great, evocative read - definitely going to use it in my English class.

Suttree had spent years on my bookshelf, having the doubtful honour of being the only McCarthy novel I hadn‘t read yet. I used this year‘s summer vacation to finally tackle – and enjoy – those 460 pages of small print and few punctuation marks.

Suttree is something of a tragic hero, who seems to have chosen a life of poverty and violence in 1950s Knoxville, told through many short and a few extensive episodes. There is something …

A blunt metaphor supported by endless, needless descriptions of all kinds of cruelty. Also, painfully naive characters. I did enjoy Moshfegh‘s audio book narration though, a welcome distraction on this summer‘s many car rides.

A spy is trying to outmanoeuvre his successors, who were sent to kill him in the fictional city of Libidissi.

Georg Klein‘s unique narrative style appears to be fully developed in this 1998 debut already; it‘s remarkably similar to his later novels and stories I have read. Also, his signature mixing of genres: spy thriller, historical fiction, satire of orientalism and religious mania, etc. Truly masterful.

Reading location: the park.

A light-hearted, bittersweet coming-of-age story, recommended on my favourite podcast (see bookmark) so many times that I had to see for myself. Definitely worth it.

Conventional sci-fi horror, but still kinda fun.

During our summer holiday five years ago I reread and enjoyed King‘s IT. So much so that I have dedicated each summer since to one of his many novels. This year I opted for a shorter one (because I‘m planning to finally tackle McCarthy‘s Suttree).

Elevation is low-dose King magic, but it‘s over way too soon. In fact, it feels like a subplot of a high-concept novel in which EVERYONE‘s bodies start acting up, losing weight and floating etc. etc.

What makes a city? Sudjic‘s answer to this question is a fascinating dive into history, architecture, art, literature, and politics. His arguments shine whenever he uses examples from all over the world. (Which is why I had a tough time getting through the "How to Change a City" chapter because it focuses almost exclusively on London.)

Also, lots of highly quotable passages, e.g. when writing about 1960‘s Los Angeles: …

I completely agree with that Times quote on the cover. Fast-paced, outrageous, satirical, fun – and definitely my favourite Ballard so far.

A kind of deeply literary memoir, and quite a pleasant surprise. A fictionalized (?) Güçyeter chronicles his family‘s life in Turkey and after moving to Germany, focusing mostly on his mother and his relationship with her.

Reading location (at least for the last few pages): the beach.

It‘s short, poetic, thoughtful diary entries, covering the months of summer and early fall on Hiddensee, island of my dreams.

This sequel doesn‘t quite deliver; its plot seems thin and relies too much on happy coincidence; the narrative style feels sloppy at times, the dialogue stilted. I wouldn‘t be surprised if this was rushed out to capitalize on the first book‘s success.

Fun, shocking, thought-provoking, pretty, weird – Ducks is all that and more. It took me a while to appreciate Beaton‘s slightly more disjointed, episodic approach to story-telling, but when I did, I couldn‘t put it down.

I‘ve read my fair share of Arctic exploration books over the years, but this one, a strange blend of fiction and authentic quotes from the 1872-74 Austro-Hungarian north pole expedition, didn‘t really do it for me. It‘s lacking the introspectiveness of a real novel and the accuracy of an actual travelogue, resulting in chapters and storylines that felt disconnected and tedious.

A fascinating essay detailing the emergence of GIFs as one of the most prominent visual elements of internet culture. Academically sound and oddly entertaining.

An extra basic plot, told through some amazing art. A perfect palate cleanser in-between other stories.

A man spends the fall in the woods of Wales and becomes obsessed with cultivating stinkhorns, the phallus-shaped fungi that he thinks will redeem him from his actions back home.

What a mess! I came for the weirdness and the eco horror and stayed despite the slow plot, the arrogant protagonist and the absurd amount of violence against women. Seriously, it‘s too much – especially …

"Fast jeder Tag war nun seltsam." (p. 304)

Favourites:
- Kvaløya
- Die Gesichter in den …
- Die Katze wohnt …
- Otter Otter Otter
- Zauberer
- Suzy

Possibly my least favourite of Hansen‘s three novels, though still a good story. Her trademark tropes are still there, but they seem less constrained, more sprawling this time. Within a few paragraphs, her narrator skips forward and backward in time, jumps from character to character, laments the same things over and over again. For me, this only really works with fewer protagonists and shorter chapters.

An interesting concept, a whole bunch of boring chapters/stories, some mildly interesting ones, some absolutely cringe-inducing audiobook narrators that ruined this average book even more. I was close to bailing a few times but just kept it running until the end, hoping for it to improve. It never really did.

The story of a girl who experiences the 1962 North Sea flood and grapples with her parents‘ actions during World War Two. There is some didactic merit here, but stylistically this feels like a bit of a mess. The constant repetition of the protagonist‘s thoughts gets tiring very quickly. Not sure yet if I will use this for teaching.

Dörte Hansen‘s superpower is enumeration; her endless lists of events, characters and places present and past create novels like mosaics. Which, to my continuing surprise, I‘m really into – I binged Mittagsstunde within one sweet Easter weekend.

I‘m still catching up on Georg Klein‘s oeuvre, but this came out just this spring and I had to read it immediately. It‘s a collection of stories of varying quality: some are fantastic, others feel like filler, but they all have that quaint, enigmatic Georg Klein sound.

Highlights:
- David zu Ehren
- Im Bienenlicht
- Die Kunst des Bauchmanns
- Herzsturzbesinnung
- Allwurzler
- Die Früchte des zweiten Baumes
- Einstimmung …

Some anecdotes from Messner‘s life, accompanied by illustrations that range from beautiful to meh.

A couple and their young son move to an isolated lake island in a time of political turmoil. I was slightly misled by the first positive review, the beautiful cover and the quality of the first few pages. While I did enjoy some of the poetic vagueness of the narration, there are just too many odd similes and metaphors at some point, as though the author was trying really hard to sound sophisticated.

I have been reading, watching and playing a lot of post-apocalyptic, dystopian stories lately, but none of them strike as hard as The Road. McCarthy‘s bleak style creates something that can‘t really be found in any other disaster fiction. I enjoyed it even more than during my first read some ten years ago.

So much better! More focused, more messed up, better in almost every way.

Fun characters, great art, an exciting first half – and, unfortunately, an utterly confusing second one.

🤷‍♂️

🌔💛

Episodes from the life of a ten-year old Pink Floyd fan growing up in a 1970s German small town.

I love the way the characters absorb the then newly released PF albums and songs into their lives, songs which I learned to love decades after their release. Unfortunately the narrator is painfully naive and some of the interactions (with his family, his classmates) are slightly cringe-inducing and almost unbearable to read.

I decided to try another audiobook, though this time one less plot-driven. In the first hour or so Herzog‘s droning voice gave me a headache, but in the remaining 14 I learned to appreciate its hypnotic effect. Herzog is a great director (though by no means my favourite) and an even better storyteller. His memories and weird little anecdotes are filled with an impressive amount of wisdom, sweetness and humour. Highly recommended.

It‘s the perfect little classic for teaching because its main themes (law vs. morals, state vs. family) are fairly easy to access and its deeper layers (man vs. woman, tyrant vs. people, fate vs. self-determination etc.) require some critical thinking. We‘ll see if my students agree.

A story of loss, regret and redemption, told in loosely connected chapters that each focus on different characters. I smiled, I chuckled, I pondered my own life‘s decisions. Despite making some questionable stylistic choices, Hansen excels at creating deep and ambiguous characters, the kind that could easily exist somewhere out there. I‘m excited to read her other two novels.

I love McCarthy‘s bleak narrative style and his brooding, wordless characters. It turns out that even without these prerequisites, his fiction works for me. It‘s easy to get lost in the protagonist‘s theories, but I understand this to be just the effect McCarthy is going for; it‘s a means of characterization. I was also absolutely fascinated by one of the final ideas of language as a parasite, introduced late in humans‘ evolution. Wild!

Parts of it felt like a rehash of The Stand (I probably should have left myself some more time between the two) or maybe just pandemic fiction in general, though the circular plot design is a neat little trick that worked okay for me. Surprisingly, I found the airport chapters quite harrowing and many of the episodes from Arthur Leander‘s life so engaging that I would have liked to read more of them.

Basically Bron/The Bridge in the Dutch and German parts of the Wadden Sea, featuring a gruff but kind detective and lots of little accidents and chance encounters that constitute a crime plot, I suppose. It‘s not really my usual genre, but I did enjoy it, mostly because of the setting and the restrained use of humour.

This one had been sitting on my shelf for years, waiting for me to have enough time and dedication to start reading. I truly wish I had done it sooner. An intricate plot with very little filler, complex characters, and decent art - it‘s all there. Time to rewatch the movie and the HBO show.

This completely absorbed me in the past few days. It‘s quintessential McCarthy, from plot to style, and that‘s why I loved it. Though marketed as a mystery, it‘s really a story about loss and grief. I‘m excited for Stella Maris – and for a return to some of McCarthy‘s classics because I remember so little of them. I‘ve also yet to read Suttree for the first time. Maybe a project for next year?

It‘s okay 🤷‍♂️

It‘s the Marsupilami in a paper-thin Berlin, 1931 plot, punching and kicking landlords, nazis, pickpockets, and museum directors. What a wild mash-up. I‘m not the greatest fan of Flix‘s art style, but here he actually created some genuinely beautiful pieces (see above).

This one had been on my radar for a long time so it‘s a shame I didn‘t enjoy it as much as I had hoped. Most of the story is told from the perspective of one hell of an unreliable (and unlikeable) narrator, whose terrible actions brought me close to quitting more than once. And yet there are some things to be enjoyed here, such as …