Kairos
Ratings4
Average rating3.1
15
Ratings4
Average rating3.1
Jenny Erpenbeck’s much anticipated new novel Kairos is a complicated love story set amidst swirling, cataclysmic events as the GDR collapses and an old world evaporates Jenny Erpenbeck (the author of Go, Went, Gone and Visitation) is an epic storyteller and arguably the most powerful voice in contemporary German literature. Erpenbeck’s new novel Kairos—an unforgettably compelling masterpiece—tells the story of the romance begun in East Berlin at the end of the 1980s when nineteen-year-old Katharina meets by chance a married writer in his fifties named Hans. Their passionate yet difficult long-running affair takes place against the background of the declining GDR, through the upheavals wrought by its dissolution in 1989 and then what comes after. In her unmistakable style and with enormous sweep, Erpenbeck describes the path of two lovers, as Katharina grows up and tries to come to terms with a not always ideal romance, even as a whole world with its own ideology disappears. As the Times Literary Supplement writes: “The weight of history, the particular experiences of East and West, and the ways in which cultural and subjective memory shape individual identity has always been present in Erpenbeck’s work. She knows that no one is all bad, no state all rotten, and she masterfully captures the existential bewilderment of this period between states and ideologies.” In the opinion of her superbly gifted translator Michael Hofmann, Kairos is the great post-Unification novel. And, as The New Republic has commented on his work as a translator: “Hofmann’s translation is invaluable—it achieves what translations are supposedly unable to do: it is at once ‘loyal’ and ‘beautiful.’”
Reviews with the most likes.
I was initially hesitant to delve into this book, despite its widespread acclaim throughout the latter half of 2023. The blurb, which hints of a psychologically abusive relationships while paralleling them with complex historical contexts, didn't quite entice me. However, upon learning of its longlisting for the Booker Prize in 2023, I decided to bite the bullet and give it a chance. Now, I find myself quite ambivalent about this book.
The doomed relationship between Hans and Katharina seemed rather overwrought, especially as their dynamic soured to its nadir. While the portrayal of Hans's domination and psychological manipulation of Katharina, purportedly to salvage their love or redeem her, served as a poignant device to illustrate how both the individuals and the state, particularly GDR, have doomed their citizens for what is perceived as the greater good. It was fascinating to observe how their relationship evolved—from idealistic to manipulative to destructive to eventual emancipation—amidst the turbulent political backdrop. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that Katharina's infatuation with Hans seemed somewhat forced. There's little mention of her being enamored with Hans's appearance; in contrast, he's often described as lanky, scrawny, and pale. Nor does Katharina exhibit intellectual admiration for Hans; rather, she appears to conform to the mold he's shaping her into, with Hans assuming the roles of both teacher and maternal figure, some might argue.
Despite my reservations about the central relationship, I appreciated the subtlety with which the book explored historical nuances. Rather than employing heavy-handed allegory, it delves into the complexities of the past with a more nuanced touch, casting a murky yet intriguing atmosphere that isn't easily discernible.
In my opinion, the book could have benefited from toning down the magnification of Hans and Katharina's relationship; a more restrained approach would likely have resulted in a more compelling narrative. It felt quite exhaustive to get through all of these.
3 stars/5
