Faserland

First, it reads like a alcohol-tinged popculture road trip straight from the 90ies, and I felt I should have probably read this back when it came out, in the 90ies. Reading books about people who are constantly partying and on drugs, while being aloof and feeling superior ... very 90ies. Come to think of it, the poop and similar (yoghurt) accident-related stories felt very Trainspotting.

But, then it sprinkles in pokes at German WWII history and critiques of the wealthy class, while the main character's life and journey unravel themselves to be hollow and meaningless. And suddenly it just clicks. And I see why this book is considered somewhat of a cult classic.

Obviously, this is a very context-heavy book, and I think I might have enjoyed it more if I'd known more of the very German geograpic and cultural references. (let me now google ‘barbour jacket').