Two short reviews about two short European novels in translation, both shining a light on human disturbance, both of which I can recommend as a good read.
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When an elderly woman, dressed in an old-fashioned long black dress, invites our unnamed narrator to share a cake, it’s rather like the witch from the gingerbread house seducing Hansel and Gretel. At first, the young woman seems at greatest risk from herself, the bite of cake breaking the pattern of her carefully-controlled diet and triggering a protracted episode of binge eating and vomiting. But when Frau Hohenembs, channelling the Austrian Empress Elisabeth, renowned for her beauty, energy and an assumed eating disorder, pressurises into joining her, and her housekeeper, Ida, and various outings, the danger comes equally from without. Once she’s implicated in their mission to steal various bizarre artefacts from museums, there’s no escape.
First published in German in 2007 under the title Stierhunger, which translates as bulimia nervosa, The Empress and the Cake is a tale of entrapment and mental distress. The older woman’s psychopathic power and influence is reminiscent of Sylvia Slythe in Death and the Seaside. With her estranged girlfriend, non-job decluttering other people’s apartments and no real friends, the narrator has no chance, especially when the lease for her flat is spirited away from her. I found the descriptions of her dedication to her illness particularly striking: the obsession with food and with the most effective way of eliminating it from her body. Although I think those with an existing knowledge of Empress Elisabeth might get more from it, I did enjoy this peculiar tale.
Translated by Jamie Bullock, The Empress and the Cake is published by Peirene Press as part of their fairy tale series (which also includes The Man I Became and Her Father’s Daughter) – thanks to them for my review copy. If you enjoy modern fairytales, you might also like the short story anthology The Forgotten and the Fantastical -- you’ll find my mini review here.
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When Edward Landauer, a microbiologist who has made his name studying both HIV and avian influenza, spots Ruth Walta riding her bicycle down a street in his home city of Utrecht, he feels like running after her and shouting: Marry me, here, right now! He’s the happiest man in the world when, before too long, they’re married. As if he’s in his early 40s and she’s in her late 20s, it feels like a victory over time. But once their child is born, the age gap proves the least of their differences, as Edward’s responses to their ideological conflicts lead to both his and his family’s unravelling.
Like The Course of Love, A Beautiful Young Wife is about the way in which our different assumptions about the “right” way to live can complicate our most intimate relationships. Also related mostly from the male point of view, I was a little irritated initially at Edward’s focus on the age difference (yes, fourteen years must have an impact, but relationships do survive with much larger gaps) and his perception of Ruth as a kind of trophy wife. But, of course, that’s partly the point, and I should have realised the author of These Are the Names, would take his characters a little deeper into the puzzle of the human (and animal) condition. As a hard scientist, Edward is appalled when Ruth makes important decisions on the basis of “feminine intuition” yet, by the end, it is he who behaves most irrationally. Along the way, questions are raised about animal experimentation and, through the character of Ruth’s drifter brother, and adult responsibility. I thought the polarised perspectives of Edward and Ruth were cleverly resolved, for the reader, if not for the characters themselves.
Translated from Dutch by Sam Garrett, A Beautiful Young Wife is published by Scribe who provided my review copy. Incidentally, I also once rode a bicycle down a street in Utrecht; perhaps I’m lucky it didn’t lead to marriage.
First published in German in 2007 under the title Stierhunger, which translates as bulimia nervosa, The Empress and the Cake is a tale of entrapment and mental distress. The older woman’s psychopathic power and influence is reminiscent of Sylvia Slythe in Death and the Seaside. With her estranged girlfriend, non-job decluttering other people’s apartments and no real friends, the narrator has no chance, especially when the lease for her flat is spirited away from her. I found the descriptions of her dedication to her illness particularly striking: the obsession with food and with the most effective way of eliminating it from her body. Although I think those with an existing knowledge of Empress Elisabeth might get more from it, I did enjoy this peculiar tale.
Translated by Jamie Bullock, The Empress and the Cake is published by Peirene Press as part of their fairy tale series (which also includes The Man I Became and Her Father’s Daughter) – thanks to them for my review copy. If you enjoy modern fairytales, you might also like the short story anthology The Forgotten and the Fantastical -- you’ll find my mini review here.
#############################################################
When Edward Landauer, a microbiologist who has made his name studying both HIV and avian influenza, spots Ruth Walta riding her bicycle down a street in his home city of Utrecht, he feels like running after her and shouting: Marry me, here, right now! He’s the happiest man in the world when, before too long, they’re married. As if he’s in his early 40s and she’s in her late 20s, it feels like a victory over time. But once their child is born, the age gap proves the least of their differences, as Edward’s responses to their ideological conflicts lead to both his and his family’s unravelling.
Like The Course of Love, A Beautiful Young Wife is about the way in which our different assumptions about the “right” way to live can complicate our most intimate relationships. Also related mostly from the male point of view, I was a little irritated initially at Edward’s focus on the age difference (yes, fourteen years must have an impact, but relationships do survive with much larger gaps) and his perception of Ruth as a kind of trophy wife. But, of course, that’s partly the point, and I should have realised the author of These Are the Names, would take his characters a little deeper into the puzzle of the human (and animal) condition. As a hard scientist, Edward is appalled when Ruth makes important decisions on the basis of “feminine intuition” yet, by the end, it is he who behaves most irrationally. Along the way, questions are raised about animal experimentation and, through the character of Ruth’s drifter brother, and adult responsibility. I thought the polarised perspectives of Edward and Ruth were cleverly resolved, for the reader, if not for the characters themselves.
Translated from Dutch by Sam Garrett, A Beautiful Young Wife is published by Scribe who provided my review copy. Incidentally, I also once rode a bicycle down a street in Utrecht; perhaps I’m lucky it didn’t lead to marriage.
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