The German Book Office recently chose Eros by Helmut Krausser as its book pick for July.
Krausser’s book—which doesn’t actually release until mid-August, though you could pre-order copies now—is coming out from Europa Editions and sounds pretty interesting:
Alexander von Brücken, an ageing millionaire, invites an unknown author into his mansion to record his life story. From there the novel plunges back into Germany’s past when Hitler’s Third Reich is on the brink of failure. In an air raid shelter, Alexander falls desperately in love with a girl named Sofie. She flees with her family, but she is never able to completely escape from Alexander’s grasp. Odd coincidences and fortuitous circumstances find their way into Sofie’s life, and Alexander with his wealth and power lurks in the background. Krausser examines the limits of wealth and the limitless power of unrequited love in this novel. Despite the vast geographical and chronological spaces that the story sweeps through, Alexander’s obsession with Sofie shines more vividly than all the surrounding elements. With the unknown author narrating this seductive and darkly fascinating story, the reader also wonders if Alexander’s perspective and telling of his past have been skewed by years of longing and frustration.
This is the only the second of Krausser’s books to make it’s way into English, the first being The Great Bagarozy. Looking at the stats, I know that there’s a one in a million chance (you know, give or take a few hundred thousand) for a foreign author to be published in English, yet this one sort of surprises me.
In addition to Eros and The Great Bagarozy, Krausser has a book called Fat World (a sample translation of which has been making the rounds) and another called Ultrachronos (or simply UC) that’s described as such:
UC, or Ultrachronos, is a certain way of perceiving the world shortly before death: it is a moment, a single instant, wherein you watch your entire life, but not just the events that actually happened, you also see the events which could have happened. Krausser’s new novel Ultrachronos is both a tale of a man’s seemingly unshakeable existence – as a successful conductor, as an arrogant adulterer – and the story of a man viewing his own Ultrachronos. The reader sees the main character as he flees from his past – and as he meets Kurthes, a writer and guru, who seems to know everything about him and who wants to give him an eerie part in his new book…Helmut Krausser, the critically acclaimed author of several novels, theater-plays, poems, diaries, and opera libretti, works with the instruments of a crime novel, but this book goes much deeper into the borderland of our existence.
It’s possible Europa is doing more of his titles . . . Regardless, Eros sounds intriguing and is definitely something we’ll review as soon as it’s available (you know, give or take a month or two).
“Rambling Jack—what’s that?”
“A novel. Novella, I guess.”
“Yeah, it looks short. What is it, a hundred pages?”
“Sorta. It’s a duel language book, so really, only about… 50 pages total.”
“And this—what. . .
Many authors are compared to Roberto Bolaño. However, very few authors have the privilege of having a Roberto Bolaño quote on the cover of their work; and at that, one which states, “Good readers will find something that can be. . .
In Josep Maria de Sagarra’s Private Life, a man harangues his friend about literature while walking through Barcelona at night:
When a novel states a fact that ties into another fact and another and another, as the chain goes on. . .
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .