Kairos was one of my favourite reads last year. The prose was immersive and the emotional charge intensified as the plot accelerated toward the inevitable future. The sort of novel you can only write once in a lifetime.
The nervous critical reaction to the novel in Germany initiated my own rumination about acknowledgment and belonging in a majority with different historical experience than your own.
If I would be invited to the trial to defend Erpenbeck, I would indicate that a decaying and collapsing society/state provides individuals with more freedom than any functional political system. It is exactly this freedom that privileged Hans is not able to bear, and it is exactly his inability to cope with freedom that turns him into a psychopath.
To my ears, Erpenbeck in this novel cannot possibly be apologetic. The only affirmation of the GDR history is coming from the western German literary feuilleton, whose witch hunt reflex and taboo policing carry the GDR heritage into the 21st century.
(The most vivid description of Berlin atmosphere during the events of 1989 I found recently in Ian McEwan’s Lessons. The moment when the protagonist enters the crowded coffee house and sees his ex-wife through clouds of smoke.)
I agree that Kairos is one of my favorites of the year. As you said, the prose is immersive and the growing popularity charge/change, the sense of unease Erpenbeck built to the inevitable end is striking. It feels much more personal than her previous novels.
I don’t share your experience of Eastern Europe, so I thank you for your comment and enlightening me with your experience and insight.
I mostly saw Hans as the vehicle for Katharina’s experience. I also work with assaulted women, and Erpenbeck did a wonderful job in building up the sort of personalities, with their personal histories, of women and men that find themselves in those situations. Her handling of that was far better than most writers who try to tackle the subject, never heavy handed nor judgmental.
A brilliant novel, since you and I took away different parts as they relate to our lives/experiences. I’ve read some McEwan, years ago, in college, but I’ll be sure to pick up Lessons. Thank you again for your thoughtful comment!
Kairos was one of my favourite reads last year. The prose was immersive and the emotional charge intensified as the plot accelerated toward the inevitable future. The sort of novel you can only write once in a lifetime.
The nervous critical reaction to the novel in Germany initiated my own rumination about acknowledgment and belonging in a majority with different historical experience than your own.
If I would be invited to the trial to defend Erpenbeck, I would indicate that a decaying and collapsing society/state provides individuals with more freedom than any functional political system. It is exactly this freedom that privileged Hans is not able to bear, and it is exactly his inability to cope with freedom that turns him into a psychopath.
To my ears, Erpenbeck in this novel cannot possibly be apologetic. The only affirmation of the GDR history is coming from the western German literary feuilleton, whose witch hunt reflex and taboo policing carry the GDR heritage into the 21st century.
(The most vivid description of Berlin atmosphere during the events of 1989 I found recently in Ian McEwan’s Lessons. The moment when the protagonist enters the crowded coffee house and sees his ex-wife through clouds of smoke.)
I agree that Kairos is one of my favorites of the year. As you said, the prose is immersive and the growing popularity charge/change, the sense of unease Erpenbeck built to the inevitable end is striking. It feels much more personal than her previous novels.
I don’t share your experience of Eastern Europe, so I thank you for your comment and enlightening me with your experience and insight.
I mostly saw Hans as the vehicle for Katharina’s experience. I also work with assaulted women, and Erpenbeck did a wonderful job in building up the sort of personalities, with their personal histories, of women and men that find themselves in those situations. Her handling of that was far better than most writers who try to tackle the subject, never heavy handed nor judgmental.
A brilliant novel, since you and I took away different parts as they relate to our lives/experiences. I’ve read some McEwan, years ago, in college, but I’ll be sure to pick up Lessons. Thank you again for your thoughtful comment!