REVIEW: "Suspended Sentences: Three Novellas" by Patrick Modiano

Yale UP, 14 Nov 2014, $16.00

„Vivre, c'est s'obstiner à achever un souvenir“. Patrick Modiano, Livret de famille (1977).

Before Patrick Modiano won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2014, his name was a blank slate for me. There are always some names out there who even a wide-read reader will never have heard of (another example would be the 2009 winner, Herta Müller, who just wasn’t on anyone’s mind and who unfortunately faded back to obscurity after her win). It is a pleasure to get to know such a widely acclaimed author as Modiano.

According to the statement released by the Nobel committee, he won the prize “for the art of memory with which he has evoked the most ungraspable human destinies and uncovered the life-world of the occupation“. The first part, “the art of memory”, is especially important when looking at the collection at-hand. Suspended Sentences groups together three novellas, Afterimage (Chien de printemps, 1993), Suspended Sentences (Remise de peine, 1988) and Flowers of Ruin (Fleurs de ruine, 1991). As Modiano ascertains in the introduction, “taken together … those books form a single work”. Mark Polizzotti’s translation easily manages to make sense of Modiano’s particular style, which is easily read but not necessarily understood. From what I could see with my limited French skills, not that much is missing from the source text.

The main focus on these novellas is on remembrance. Modiano has been likened to Proust, and I can see where that is coming from. The texts are fragments that recall things that have been, while often reminiscing about things that happened even further back. The narrator in Flowers of Ruin seemingly recalls meeting the elusive Pacheco, while also retelling that man’s life story before the Second World War. Even if this sounds confusing, it is actually not, which makes it such a pleasure to read these texts.

Afterimage tells the story of a photographer, a student of famous photographer Robert Capa, who our anonymous meets and works with. Suspended Sentences deals with two brothers living under the care of Annie and her ragtag team of compadres. This team is somewhat seedy, dealing with liquor and travelling to and fro Paris throughout the narrative. While raising a lot of questions, most of them are left unanswered and will sink down with the memories the narrator summons to write his story. Flowers of Ruin is a mixture of a whodunit and the recollections of a flâneur. Again and again, points spring up, but none of them will be connected, something is always missing. This story felt like coming home to me, as the vivid descriptions of streets, places and avenues remind me so much of the past summer: While Modiano’s Paris is surely different from the modern one, the feeling I got when wandering through it last June was surely similar.

In my opinion, the story itself does not matter in these novellas. Take a hike down memory lane, get swept away by the currents of remembrance, reminisce on the people you have met and the thousands you forgot, jump from picture to picture and from emotion to emotion, enjoy the ride. Making sense of the past is often impossible, especially if we only rely on our faulty memories. Will there be another Patrick Modiano in a hundred years’ time? We will have to see. Until then, this collection is the way to go. I will give it 4 ½ stars, rounded down to 4. The translation is spectacular, the stories are a pleasant and intriguing read, and what ultimately counts is the ride, not the outcome, but there is still something missing to make it a solid five stars. Still, this is highly recommended.

Thanks to Yale UP for providing a copy through Netgalley. Suspended Sentences: Three Novellas was released November 11, 2014 for a price pf $16.00 and was translated by Mark Polizzotti. 

REVIEW: "Youth: Autobiographical Writings" by Wolfgang Koeppen

Dalkey Archive Press - $14.95 - 18 Nov 2014

„Youth: Autobiographical Writings“ is a dizzying experience. The style is typical for Wolfgang Koeppen: He skilfully uses the Montage-technique, which shares some similarities with the stream-of-consciousness-technique in Modernist writing. Impressions, scraps and emotions are woven into a dense text. Scenes from a Pre-, Inter- and Post-World War I Germany hit the reader with the force of a tank. While the titular story follows a more or less stringent story, many of the scenes are lavishly told associative pieces on war, decay, death and growing up. The translator Michael Hofmann does a splendid job; side-by-side comparisons of the text show that he grasps the intricacies of the text. In his introduction, he portrays Koeppen, who he knew personally, as a hard-working and destitute writer, a “silent, broody author”. The text is autobiographical, but without any knowledge on the writer this might be hard to discern. Hofmann describes the style of the book as such:

“Whether a sentence is a beautifully landscaped torrent going on for several pages or a dumbly insolent “I was Germany’s future” or one of Koeppen’s patented “or maybe…” constructions, sidestepping into freedom, it is all scrupulously managed, supple, cadenced, sumptuously lexical, expressive prose.”

A simple description what “Youth” is about does not do it justice. Just as youth is confusing, abstruse, incomprehensible, awkward and complicated, so is the pastiche we are presented with. Sentences heaped on sentences filled with descriptions of the horrors of the Great War, the aching sense of isolation and desperation teenager feel they have the monopoly on, first experiments in love and loss. “Youth” was first published in 1976, a late work of the then 70-year-old. Some of his experiences are universal, some romanticized, some a nihilistic portrayal of growing up during times of war. So to speak, he is a much more suitable proto-member of the Lost Generation, living in and through the Great War and not having the chance of comfortably choosing to be an expatriate. In a way, he is the younger brother to most of more famous writers of the Lost Generation, such as Remarque. Koeppen is eight when the Great War begins, twelve when it ended in 1918. He describes the feeling of being trapped in a war-torn country:

“(…) I thought I want to run away from this town, away from this country, flee, flee, and I traipsed in with everyone and found my seat.”

The narrative also focuses on Koeppen’s budding love for literature. After he witnessed the First World War in the small village of Ortelsburg, he returned to school in 1919. Koeppen worked in bookshops and attended lectures at the University of Greifswald later on. There are several stories and articles in newspapers by him. As is normal for many writers, he spends most of his time reading:

“Libraries attracted me. I haunted them, greedy and addicted. I was in love with the people who worked in them. I was irresistible, the librarians were helpless. They did my bidding. They opened their shelves to me, they parted from their treasures. I surrounded myself with script. I guzzled type. I forgot myself. I sat in the public square like a drunkard. The alphabet swept me away. I was a caution to the city. I was an irritation.”

A young man, drunk on prose and poetry during and after times of war is an eye-sore to the system. It is reassuring to know that he made it through. 

The second story in this thin volume is more closely related to the travel writing Koeppen used to commit to in his later years. Michael Hofmann likens it to a refreshment after the bombardment of the titular story, “something plain and uncomplicated and benign”. It reads exactly like that. Once Upon A Time in Masuria is missing the fierce descriptions, the high-brow literary techniques, yes, even the subject matter. It is a short text of vignettes, revelling in nostalgia. 

What I liked best about this book are Koeppen’s monumental sentences, often spanning more than a page. While it is easy to get lost in them, it is a welcome change to be treated to such well-crafted and immersive sentences. Before reading Youth, Koeppen was still a name I knew about, especially from my German AP courses during the Abitur. Tauben im Gras is widely regarded as one of the best post-war works of German literature. I always wanted to read a complete work by him rather than just fragments, now this English translation finally enabled me to do exactly that. What a pleasure! 



Youth: Autobiographical Writing will be published Nov 18 2014 by Dalkey Archive Press. I received a free copy in exchange for a review through Netgalley. 

REVIEW: Leo X. Robertson - "Sinkhole" (2014)

2014, 196pp.

Robertson's sophomore effort is a collection of short-stories, which are, as he says, full of "postmodern silliness". This is certainly true. His first novel, Findesferas, dealt with a number of topics, including Revolution in Latin America, space travel and a dystopian oil crisis. In his new collection, the scope is somewhat smaller, but also more nuanced:  There are confessionals, pseudo-scientific examinations of breakups, a choose-your-own-adventure story, hypochondric compulsive liars, gay-only cities, biting satires about millenials and shirtarians, a lengthy work on the use and misuse of caffeine, Scottish vernacular, and the Badass London Ex-Bitches. This is a scope that can please nearly everyone.

OVERVIEW: September 2014

September 2014 was a good month: Not only was I able to extensively read into the postmodern canon, I also managed to knock off a few books from the Man Booker 2014 Shortlist.

REVIEW: Ali Smith - "How to be Both"

Hamish Hamilton, 2014. 384pp 

In Ali Smith's neuem Roman vermischen sich Zeiten und Zeitzeugen, Auge und Kamera, Moderne und Renaissance, Mann und Frau um ein rundum gelungenes experimentelles Erlebnis abzuliefern. 

REVIEW: Anne Carson - "Red Doc>"

Cape Poetry, 2013, 164pp.

Anne Carson it says. 
Red letters on the 
envelope. One hundred 
sixty and something 
pages flowing like 
ice / no not ice / 
flowing like red mist
/ better / in this 
album. Prose or poetry
is what I am asking 
myself. One look 
betrays her intent. 

A full-fledged story
indeed. Made up in
the weirdest stanzas. 
But nonetheless quite 
lovely he said it 
flows nicely on the 
page and in my head 
the echoes form a 
cacophonous sonorous 
sound of Stille ja 
silence immer wieder 
und doch he said und 
doch wirklich lesbar 
das Ganze ja. 

REVIEW: Leo X. Robertson - "Findesferas"

2013, 276pp.

Findesferas is ambitious - just the short blurb made me interested what this was actually about. While it is certainly a quick read, it manages to connect a number of genres: Science-fiction, magical realism, surrealism, some romance here and there. The fragmented narration jumps jauntily through temporal and spatial constraints. Characters are well-rounded. All in all, Findesferas never falls short of what it tries to achieve. It is both entertaining and enlightening. 

The footnotes were a bit too sprawling here and there, and some parts in the beginning interfered with the reading flow, but those are just minuscule criticisms. I loved the language, especially the bilingual parts. Let's hope that Robertson's next novel is as good as this one - you've definitely found another interested reader! 

Get free here: Lulu

★★★★☆

REVIEW: Martin Esslin - "The Theatre of the Absurd"

3rd Ed.,Vintage, 2004. 480pp

I first stumbled on this book during my first semester - we had to write a term paper on any topic we wanted to - and I chose to write about Beckett's Waiting for Godot, which I had read back then for the first time. Reading Beckett for the first time was somewhat of a revelation for me, one of those moments that will shape you. Back then I read a few pages here and there, and was amazed how complex Esslin's analysis was. 

REVIEW: Tony Sandoval - "Doomboy"

Diamond Book Distributors, 2014. 136pp

Sometimes music is the only thing that helps you get through the day. For D, the longhaired metal kid from Tony Sandoval's Doomboy, music is the outlet to vent his emotions. All his anger and despair over the death of his girlfriend pours out from his guitar as the wind howls and the waves crash onto his sordid existence. Put on some Omega Massif and start reading. 

Introduction

My name is Sam. I am a 24-year-old student pursuing a teaching degree at the University of Duisburg-Essen, Germany. After my graduation, I will start teaching English and Fine Arts to students from year 5-13 at one of Germany's Gymnasien or Gesamtschulen. 

This blog is more or less a reminder for myself, serving as a place to collect my book reviews and other work I deem important. After a year abroad at the University of Chester, England, my English is at an all-time high, but I can feel it deteriorating every single day. This blog is supposed to be a mental exercise to keep up and possibly enlarge my English knowledge. 

My main interests include fiction of the 20th and 21st century, especially literature with a modern or postmodern label. I am in the process of research for my state examination thesis, which will be about postmodernism and magical realism in the US, and hopefully span a mixture of literature and art. 

This is not a necessarily reader-friendly blog. Bare with me if my reviews seem incongruous and farfetched, there is no harm meant. If people want to connect with me, I have profiles at several other sites. 

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6214700-sam

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/synkopenleben