Kairos (Erpenbeck, trans. by Hoffman)

If I tell you that this book is, in part, about a relationship between a 51-year-old married man and a 19-year-old woman, you would be forgiven, I think, for assuming that the book was written by a man. In this case, you would be wrong as this International Booker Prize winner (https://thebookerprizes.com/the-booker-library/features/what-everyone-is-saying-about-kairos-winning-the-international-booker#:~:text=Kairos%20is%20the%20winner%20of,from%20German%20by%20Michael%20Hofmann.) was written by a woman, Jenny Erpenbeck. As the relationship between the dominating Hans and the (words fail me here) young woman, Katharina evolves, the question lingered in my mind. What response would this book have gotten if it had been written by a man? Katharina is not completely passive and does show some assertiveness and growth near the end, but the novel, on the level of this personal relationship, was troubling.

On the political level – the plot covers the time when the Berlin Wall came down – background knowledge is useful. Still, one can see the contrasts between East and West and the way the West, well, dominated the East when the Wall fell (and not always to good effect).

The Epilogue was, for me, a complete throwaway – an unnecessary ‘surprise’ ending that didn’t really add anything.

The Magician (Toibin)

At first, I was going to skip this Toibin. Toibin is normally automatic for me, but I read The Magic Mountain and didn’t care for/get it, so I thought I’d skip it. Then I remembered that my first introduction to Toibin came with The Master, and I am no great fan of Henry James. It was the writing that got me.

That said, I don’t think I’d have picked this out as Toibin if his name hadn’t been on the cover. The apparently detached style may have been meant to mirror the personal and public profile of Mann himself, as he remained apart from his large family and tried to manage his distance from Germany through both World Wars. While all around him his swirling and chaotic (both with his family and the world), he removes himself to his study to work on his writing.

Maybe if you’re a fan of Mann or a dedicated completist? Otherwise, I’d skip this one. It’s certainly not the best introduction to what I admire about Toibin. I’d start with Brooklyn.