Schroder

by Amity Gaige

Attending a New England summer camp, young Eric Schroder - a first-generation East German immigrant - adopts the last name Kennedy to more easily fit in, a fateful white lie that will set him on an improbable and ultimately tragic course.

Schroder relates the story of Eric's urgent escape years later to Lake Champlain, Vermont, with his six-year-old daughter, Meadow, in an attempt to outrun the authorities amid a heated custody battle with his wife, who will soon discover that her husband is not who he says he is. From a correctional facility, Eric surveys the course of his life to understand - and maybe even explain - his behavior: the painful separation from his mother in childhood; a harrowing escape to America with his taciturn father; a romance that withered under a shadow of lies; and his proudest moments and greatest regrets as a flawed but loving father.

Alternately lovesick and ecstatic, Amity Gaige's deftly imagined novel offers a profound meditation on history and fatherhood, and the many identities we take on in our lives - those we are born with and those we construct for ourselves.

Genres: Fiction, Book Club, Literary Fiction, Contemporary, Family, Audiobook, Relationships

272 pages, Hardcover

First published February 5, 2013

About the author

Amity Gaige is the author of four previous novels, O My Darling, The Folded World, Schroder, and Sea Wife. Sea Wife was a 2020 New York Times Notable Book and a finalist for the Mark Twain American Voice Award. Her previous novel, Schroder, was named one of Best Books of 2013 by The New York Times Book Review, Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, among others, and was shortlisted for UK’s Folio Prize (now Writers’ Prize) in 2014. Her work has been translated into 18 languages. Amity is the winner of a Fulbright Fellowship, fellowships at the MacDowell and Yaddo colonies, and in 2016, she was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in Fiction. She lives in West Hartford, CT, with her family, and teaches creative writing at Yale.
Follow her on Instagram @amity_gaige.

Reviews

[Orsodimondo · Rating 3 out of 5]

IO SONO LEGGENDA


Lisa Kimmel, autrice sia di questo scatto, sulla copertina dell’edizione Einaudi, che di quello che segue.

Credo che l’io-narrante di questo romanzo – che si inventa una nuova identità fittizia, e da Erik Schroder, tedesco dell’Est, diventa Eric Kennedy, nato e cresciuto in zona Cape Cod, addirittura spacciandosi per lontano parente del celebre presidente – abbia avuto un insegnamento domestico al quale non ha saputo sottrarsi: quando aveva cinque anni (1975), un giorno suo padre lo prese per mano, gli fece passare il Muro di Berlino – due visti ottenuti per miracolo e generosa intercessione della moglie/madre – e insieme fuggirono dalla Germania Est sovietica a quella Ovest, e in seguito sulla costa est degli USA. Il padre si spacciò per vedovo, ma la moglie, come detto, era invece viva e vegeta, e consenziente. Aveva forse promesso di raggiungerli, ma non lo ha fatto mai. Anzi, è proprio sparita dai loro radar.



E quindi, quando ritroviamo Eric/Erik adulto, secondo me c’è poco da meravigliarsi se nel frattempo è diventato un bugiardo seriale, e anche lui ha rapito la sua piccola figlia, sei anni, di nome Meadow, per un viaggetto nel New England dal sapore picaresco. Probabilmente ha visto nel lontano gesto del padre un principio ispiratore al quale attenersi. E si sa, i discepoli superano spesso i maestri.

E così, oltre che bugie e palle in quantità, Eric/Erik cresce da bugiardo mentitore e raccontatore di frottole a iosa. Cresce spacciandosi per un altro: non il tedesco che è, ma l’americano cento-per-cento che afferma di essere.
Però, tutto sommato, avrebbe fatto meglio a scegliersi come alias un cognome meno ingombrante.


Hyannis Port, in Massachusetts, nominato molte volte, ma dove l’azione non si sposta mai.

Oltre che bugiardo seriale, è propenso anche a commettere parecchi errori, a fare sbagli. Perché, cos’altro si può definire il portarsi via Meadow di sei anni, invece di ricondurla a casa da sua madre alle 18 come da accordi, portarsela via su una macchina rubata, che lui sicuramente pensa di avere solo preso in prestito, a zonzo per il New England, dopo aver capito che in Canada senza il passaporto della bambina non sarebbe mai riuscito a entrare.
Ma forse il vero errore è quello di Amity Gaige che lo elegge a voce narrante di questo suo terzo romanzo. Perché c’è qualcosa che non convince nel racconto di Eric, e c’è qualcosa che non convince me lettore in Eric/Erik.


Il Muro di Berlino, molto importante nella storia personale del narratore, che quando venne giù (novembre 1989) era già scappato a Boston.

Eric/Erik non è solo un bugiardo tenace. È forse anche rimasto bambino troppo a lungo, pure se la vita dura lo ha spinto a maturare in fretta. Ma il suo essere adulto ha qualcosa di perniciosamente infantile.
E tira troppo la corda, non sa mai quando fermarsi: o meglio, si ferma, ma sempre un po’ troppo tardi.
Forse lo si dovrebbe catalogare come narcisista.
Ma qual è il problema di un protagonista narratore bugiardo, infantile, narcisista, che non sa mai quando fermarsi? Il problema secondo me è che Amity Gaige non sembra rendersi conto di questi aspetti del suo protagonista. Ce lo vuole far credere innocente, e romantico, e sentimentale. Ma non riesce nell’intento come vorrebbe.


Lake George in Vermont, prima tappa del viaggio-fuga.

E questo forse comporta un certo qual grado di incredibilità all’intera vicenda. Scritta bene, con buon ritmo, e con bel finale inatteso. Ma poco “bevibile”.

[Jeanette (Ms. Feisty) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bleh.
Not bad.
But nothing to call home about.
Or make foam about.
Or write a poem about.
Which I just did.
But not really.
Because it wrote itself.

This was an interesting concept for a novel, but it never achieved lift-off for me. I kept waiting for some revelations that would have made it worth my effort, but I never got to find out what I wanted to know. The narrator remains cagey right through to the end.

SCHRODER is a road novel in the form of a confessional apology, with scattered bits of personal history and a few rambling footnotes. It jumps around in time and topic, but the bulk of the novel tells of a week the narrator, Eric, spent on the road with his daughter Meadow. He left town with her for what you might call an unauthorized extension of his visitation rights. Now facing prosecution, Eric writes this "document" in the hope that it will gain him leniency in court.

What we learn is that Eric Kennedy has a secret history as Erik Schroder. At age fourteen, he renamed himself and created a fictional life history so he could hide the fact that he was a German immigrant. Lies lead to more lies, and there's never a convenient time to 'fess up once you've built a relationship with someone based on false premises.

Eric's wife Laura knows nothing of his true history, but at times during their relationship she expressed consternation at the fact that something about him didn't add up. So the suspicion was there, but she never followed up on it. For me this was one of the big flaws in the novel. If you're married to someone and you suspect they're not being straight with you, you're going to do some research, or at least ask the person some hard questions. Laura never did, and this made the story unbelievable to me.

Although much of the dialogue felt forced and unrealistic, the writing was otherwise enjoyable enough that I can give the book three stars. For the most part, my appreciation was limited to the writing itself, and rarely extended to the characters or plot execution.

There's an interview with the author at the back of the book. If you decide to read this novel, I recommend reading the interview first. There's not really anything spoilerish there, and it might enhance your enjoyment to know in advance what the author was striving for.

So.
It was okay.
I guess.
But nothing I'd get a jones for.
Or break bones for.
Or bake scones for.
Or make clones for.
Or take out loans for.
Or play the Rolling Stones for.
Stop.

[Sally Drake · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought this was brilliant. Such a strange story but it is so well written and the complicated characters so fully developed I found myself simultaneously sympathetic and horrified by Erik. And heartbroken for Meadow. Although the plot is bizarre, the story is ultimately about marriage and parenthood and how sometimes it can go so wrong, especially when you are pretending it is not. A great read.

[Karina G · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am reading the galley of my sister's new novel! I predict that it's going to be huge and Brad Pitt is going to produce and star in the movie version.

[Carmen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Despite the horrible title, the uninspiring front cover picture, and the terrible blurb (on the back of the book - the blurb on GR is actually pretty decent) - this is an excellent book. It's the kind of book that from reading page one, I knew it was going to be wonderful and sat down to enjoy a great ride. I ripped through it in about two hours.

Ignore the blurb - it doesn't really give you a good idea of what this book is about. It's about a man who loves his daughter. It's about a man who loves his wife. It's about a man who, when faced with the possibility of losing everything, starts making some really bad decisions that he knows he can never come back from.

Eric Kennedy is really no Kennedy - he was born Eric Schroder in East Germany. But nobody knows this about him. He took the American name, Kennedy, and adopted an American lifestyle and identity, when he was 14. THAT IS NOT THE MAIN PLOT. The main plot is about Eric going through an awful divorce in which he first 'loses' his beloved wife, and then is faced with the strong possibility that he will lose the only other person he loves - his 6-year-old daughter, Meadow. So one day, when Meadow is dropped off on a weekend visit, Eric has an urge to put her in the car and drive. And this is an urge he follows up on, with devastating consequences.
...

My real-life friends and I have spent hours arguing about Eric. Half of my friends loved this book, and half of them hated it. We really enjoyed analyzing the heck out of Eric. Was he narcissistic? Was he insane? But the thing we argued about most was, "Was Eric a bad parent?"

Eric is (to me) a very sympathetic character. Divorce is one of the most awful things that can happen to someone, especially if you are the spouse who is 'left' and not the one doing the leaving. When his wife starts to pull out the big guns and really try to take away Eric's right to see his daughter, it breaks my heart.

In my opinion, there is no doubt that Eric loves his daughter very much. And I think he is a wonderful father... when he has a wife or some other person to serve as a buffer or filter and stop him from doing anything too crazy. Still, he had my sympathy and I was relatively cheering for him when he took Meadow without permission on an extended road trip. Until he started doing things that I could not overlook or forgive.

This is where I think he fell down and stopped being a "good parent" to Meadow:
When he takes Meadow to a bar. Then the bartender makes a VERY inappropriate comment toward/about this 6-year-old girl, and instead of punching him in the face or having any sort of violent/protective reaction, he LAUGHS. He laughs at this sexual comment this barkeep just made about his 6-year-old daughter. Disgusting.

And

When he leaves Meadow (who is 6, far from home, in a strange place, taken away from her mom and grandpa) alone, in a cabin, at night, while he goes next door to have sex with the neighbor. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!?!!? It's even more heartbreaking because, before he leaves, Meadow tells him she's feeling insecure and scared and asks him to stay with her. Either way, it's a terrible, irresponsible thing to do and I was repulsed. He doesn't even return to his cabin after having sex with the neighbor, he falls asleep with her. This ensures that Meadow wakes up scared and alone, no daddy in sight. Unacceptable. I was having flashbacks to a certain Alice Munro story in Dear Life

And of course, not making sure there was an inhaler on hand for her asthma after losing the first one.

But up until that first point, I was behind Eric all the way. My friend was really bothered when it seems like Eric is going to put Meadow in the trunk in order to cross the Canadian border, but I was not bothered by that part at all.
...

The writing is beautiful and excellent. I will definitely seek out more of Gaige's books. Also, she uses great vocabulary and I love learning new words. :)

P.S. This story is based on a true story, which is detailed in Blood Will Out: The True Story of a Murder, a Mystery, and a Masquerade.

[Gabril · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Immagino che sentissi il bisogno di una vita che fosse in mio potere correggere. Se avessi accettato semplicemente la vita numero uno, la mia prima vita, ne avrei probabilmente rispettato i limiti. Avrei vissuto in maniera quieta, quasi privo di sogni. Mi sarei sforzato di credere che una vita triste e sommessa fosse una vita degna. Io invece sognavo. Decorai tutte le stanze del mio passato con i piaceri che saccheggiavo altrove.”

È così che Erik Schroeder, fuggito a cinque anni da una cupa Berlino Ovest prigioniera del Muro, con la mano stretta a un padre taciturno e senza avere mai più notizie di una madre relegata per sempre all’incanto dell’infanzia, è così che Erik Schroeder, approdato in America, nella mitica terra delle infinite opportunità, diventa Eric Kennedy e come tale si immagina una vita nuova, non solo presente e futura ma anche passata.

“Io posso dire solo che eravamo nel 1984. Allora ci si poteva iscrivere alla previdenza sociale per posta. Le banche dati non esistevano. La carta di credito ce l’avevano solo i ricchi. Le ultime volontà venivano conservate in una cassetta di sicurezza, insieme ai soldi arrotolati a formare un cilindro corto e tozzo. Non esistevano le tecnologie dell’onniscienza, che del resto nessuno voleva. Eri chi dicevi di essere. E io ero Eric Kennedy.”

Assimilarsi alle schiere dei perfetti ragazzi americani, acquistare una dizione ineccepibile, seppellire ogni ricordo della vecchia vita, separarsi drasticamente dal triste e silenzioso padre, dimenticare ogni remoto dolore e costruire una identità nuova sul solco di una ferita rimossa sarà l’obiettivo di Erik fino a quando ogni invenzione diventerà così credibile da sembrare pura e semplice verità, fino a quando al mondo resterà soltanto Eric, unico costruttore della propria storia.

“Sapevo che quello che stavo facendo era sbagliato. Ma molte cose sbagliate erano state fatte a me. E a volte bisogna fare delle cose sbagliate per realizzare ciò che è giusto.”

Come è facile immaginare le cose non andranno come Eric aveva vagheggiato.

Questo racconto, infatti, è la lunga lettera dal carcere che il protagonista scrive all’amata e perduta moglie Laura per raccontare la sua storia, per spiegare le sue ragioni. Una intensa, dettagliata dichiarazione di impossibile amore.
In passato Eric aveva riflettuto a lungo sulla “pausologia”, cercando di elaborare una filosofia delle pause dalla comunicazione verbale. Ora il silenzio lo avvolge e lo costituisce, coronando con l’esperienza quell’affascinante teoria dell’assenza.

E mentre avidamente lo ascoltiamo non possiamo che comprenderlo. Anche se sappiamo che ha torto, torto marcio accidenti, non possiamo evitare di sentire la vibrazione del suo dolore, non possiamo che essere dalla sua parte.

Perché Amity Gaige, che gli ha dato voce e consistenza, è brava, straordinariamente brava.

4/5

[Barbara (I can only comment 10 times!) · Rating 2 out of 5]

I believe the author was inspired(or ripped off the idea) by the notorious Boston case of the guy who called himself Rockefeller, who married a woman in which they had a daughter, she divorces him, and he kidnaps the daughter. Once Rockefeller is found with the daughter, it is learned that he had created identity fraud. His name is legally a German name. The only difference between the Boston case and this novel is the Nonfiction Boston guy chose a wealthy banking family name to create his fraud instead of a presidential family name. This is a fairly well written and easy to read novel. I’m not sure how the author was trying to portray Eric, but I found him to be really creepy and mentally imbalanced. In the true Boston case, I wondered how an intelligent woman could be duped by a man to such an extent. I thought the author did a fairly good job showing how a woman could possibly be fooled. What the author did not do was provide the information on how Eric got a social security number so that he could work and go to college and get married. It’s a fast read.

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although this sounds like a simple tale, a father kidnapping his eight yr. old daughter, (not a spoiler as it clearly states this in the book description0, this novel is anything but simple. When we hear on the news that a father has kidnapped one of his children, our first thought is to automatically condemn the father, feel sympathy with the mother. The main character in this book is compelling, his young daughter advanced for her age and absolutely charming. The plot unfolds in multiple layers, the father's past, his love for his wife and daughter, his confusion and his lies. The prose is simple but elegant, the book very readable, I found it so much so that I actually checked out one of her previous books when I was half finished with this one. If this book showed me anything it is that often my rush to judgement is very wrong, and reminds me that there are always more sides to the story than is apparent. By the end of the book I was absolutely heartbroken. ARC from publisher.

[❀Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

The cover of this book does not do it justice in my opinion. The story was mesmerizing, believable, and had well developed characters. The main character, a father and husband, is an unreliable narrator having led a deceitful life. I would almost describe the story as a subtle psychological thriller of sorts, that was at times so disturbing and suspenseful it gave me anxiety reading it. The author did a great job of getting into the head of the main character, with all of his flaws and emotions due to his troubled life. Some of his actions were unforgivable, making him hard to like, yet at times I actually felt sympathy for him. I liked the format of the story being told in letter form as a confession to the narrator’s wife. It was not a light read and may not be for everyone, but I could not put it down. At the least it makes you think about the love this father had for his daughter, and the lengths he would go to be with her, despite the bitter custody battle he was involved in.

[Holly Weiss · Rating 4 out of 5]

Schroder: A Novel is both heartrending and magnificent. The book is a discerning reflection on fatherhood with contemporary issues that will appeal to men and women alike. Eric Kennedy narrates his confession to his estranged wife, explaining the circumstances of kidnapping their daughter for six days.

By falsifying an application to a New Hampshire summer camp, fourteen-year-old Schroder not only rewrites his childhood, but also changes his name to something more New England acceptable—Eric Kennedy. After marrying stunning, deeply moral Laura, their daughter Meadow is born. Happy marriage soon turns to separation, Laura having custody of Meadow. Kennedy deludes himself with dreams of reconciliation even though his visitation rights are consistently diminishing. Eric is caught. He can’t enter a custody battle because there are no records to substantiate his fabricated past. His lawyer advises him to be on the offensive and file for divorce and custody of Meadow. An independent evaluation proves unfavorable toward him.

Eric views his subsequent abduction of six-year-old Meadow as an adventure at Lake George. “This is the first time this year than I haven’t felt like jumping off a bridge.” (p.70) He steals a car and decides to drive to Canada, putting his daughter in the trunk and using his German passport. It dawns on him that he has kidnapped her. Does he return to Albany and face her mother and the consequences of his actions?

Author Amity Gaige began writing at age seven. Her 2005 novel O My Darling won her the distinguished honor of 5 Under 35 by the National Book Foundation. The Folded World, published in 2007, won ForeWord Book of the Year, among numerous other awards. Gaige has also written for O Magazine and The Literary Review.

The special quality of Schroder: a Novel is that it is both offbeat and whimsical, with an alluring main character and premise we should frown upon. Instead we are drawn into a world that Amity Gaige makes irresistible. Although the main character is flawed, Gaige makes you fall in love with him and feel for his pain. I highly recommend the book for any discerning reader’s bookshelf. Schroder will appeal to mainstream fiction readers, but also more sophisticated lovers of literary fiction.

Reviewed by Holly Weiss, author of Crestmont

[Ief Stuyvaert · Rating 4 out of 5]

'Kinderen. Ze verpesten je leven en daarna zijn ze het beste wat je nog overhebt'.

Het leven is Eric Kennedy op vele manieren ontglipt. Dit boek is zijn biecht. Zijn verweerschrift, zoals hij het zelf noemt.

Een pijnlijk eerlijke poging om zijn ex-vrouw uit te leggen hoe het zo ver is kunnen komen, zo intiem en persoonlijk dat je helemaal vergeet dat Eric - in meer dan één opzicht - een fictief personage is.

Wat mij nog het meeste verwondert (en mijn bewondering alleen maar vergroot) is dat de gedachten en gevoelens van Eric vaak ontluisterend herkenbaar zijn, terwijl het boek geschreven is door een vrouw.

Mag dat eigenlijk nog?

[Jill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eric Kennedy – nee Erik Schroder – needs a life he can revise. In ways, he embodies The American Tragedy written by Dreiser over a century ago; he has come to the land of opportunity and reinvention to find a new self.

In so many ways, Erik is a product of wherever he is in time. Born in divided East Berlin, he experienced first-hand the desperation that comes from a physical division. Now, years later, he finds himself in the midst of an acrimonious custody battle for the one person he truly loves: his six-year-old daughter, Meadow. The problem – or one of the problems – is that in the interim, Erik has reinvented himself. He took on the identity of a distant Kennedy cousin (yes, THOSE Kennedys!) to apply to a prestigious camp and later, to earn a Pell Grant that allowed him to gain access to a college education.

It is here – and only here – that the novel slips into inauthenticity. It is difficult to accept that Eric could so seamlessly change identities, even in 1984. He manages to keep his father from visiting him at college and lies to his wife Laura without any detection.

The beauty of this book is that as readers, we slide over that obstacle and accept Eric Kennedy, who is – to put it mildly – an unreliable narrator. His first-person account of the unplanned kidnapping of his daughter is recounted from the start in epistolary form to Laura, while he is in the correctional facility. As readers, we know how this journey will end from the start.

Yet there is so much to keep us going. Amity Gaige deal with heartfelt and complex issues: what happens when powerful parental love crosses the line? Can anyone truly reinvent himself or does the dissonance produce a fragmented identity? Is it possible for a deeply flawed person who hurts those who love him still be a “good” person? What makes a “good” person anyway?

Schroder should not be a sympathetic character. As readers, we quickly see the holes in his reasoning and understand how he is placing his daughter in perilous situations – both physically and emotionally. Yet Amity Gaige is a fine writer and somehow, we end up empathizing with Schroder – not an easy feat to accomplish. I should add that there are several footnotes in the text, starting out as an academic exploration into the theories of silence and gradually revealing more and more about him.

I started this review torn between 4 and 5 stars; upon completing it, it is apparent to me that this is, indeed, a 5 star book. Those who enjoyed Bonnie Nadzam’s book, Lamb – another book about troubled characters and human emotions that drive us to disturbing extremes – will particularly like this book.

[Christina Josling · Rating 5 out of 5]

www.blackbifocals.com
Schroder. Ohhhhhhhh this book! It’s so so so incredible! It is a newly published book and I guarantee it will be making many appearances on Best of 2013 book lists.

Schroder is the story of a desperate man who kidnaps his daughter amid an acrimonious separation from his wife who has left him. The story is written in the first person by Eric Kennedy, in the form of a letter to his estranged wife, as he sits in jail for the kidnapping of their daughter Meadow.
This is also the story of identity, as we learn early on that Eric Kennedy was born Erik Schroder. He flees East Germany with his father when he is 5 and settles in the working class town of Dorchester, MA. At the age of 14 he changes his name to Eric Kennedy (unbeknownst to his father) and creates an entirely new identity, past, present, and future for himself.
Throughout the book the reader slowly begins to learn the motivation behind his re-invention . We also see a damaged, desperate, narcissistic, loving father unravel when visits with his daughter become almost non-existent.
Kennedy/Schroder is a character with some ingratiating qualities coupled with very strange behavior (kidnapping aside). He commits a terrible crime, but the reader feels sympathy too.
One thing I knew about the book before I started is that the framework for the story is based on the Clark Rockefeller case. I had read about it in Vanity Fair, where a German man had convinced everyone, including his wife, he was a Rockefeller. He too tried to kidnap his daughter. It’s a really interesting article.
http://www.vanityfair.com/magazine/20...
The author did not follow the details of the Rockefeller story, but the scandal left her wondering if a damaged person can also be a good parent.
Before Schroder, I had never heard of Amity Gaige, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed her other books are as remarkable as this one. Read it! Read it! Read it!
P.S. You can follow me @BlackBifocals

[Dale Harcombe · Rating 3 out of 5]

three and a half stars
I’ve been thinking about this for a while before rating it and writing the review. I found this book a bit of an enigma. In the way it is written it is more like a memoir than a novel. However that is appropriate as Eric is explaining or trying to explain why he took off with his daughter Meadow. While I found the story interesting, given all the background of Eric, a first generation immigrant and his assumed identity as Eric Kennedy, I lost sympathy for him very quickly when he put his daughter’s life in danger. I also found the idea of footnotes rather bizarre and quickly gave up reading them to get on with the story. The novel was engrossing and some parts of the writing very imagist. One that struck me was the description of the thunderstorm. ’The sky dark and roiling even though it was morning, with patches of crucified daylight between.’ That ‘crucified daylight’ is unique imagery. Just beautiful. There were other examples of beautiful writing scattered throughout. While I read it quickly and enjoyed it I wasn’t convinced by the ending. It is worth reading and others may have a different take on it.

[Ron Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Almost 35 years have passed since “Kramer vs. Kramer” swept the Academy Awards and focused the nation’s attention on the pain of child custody battles. Attitudes about divorce and laws governing custody have evolved since that time, but the United States is still home to thousands of conflicts every year that put kids under siege from parents hurling accusations and tearing open intimate spaces.

A plaintive new novel from Amity Gaige called “Schroder” explores this common tragedy in a most uncommon way. The entire book is a testimony, written in prison, by a divorced dad to his ex-wife. Equal parts plea, apology and defense, this enthralling letter rises up from a fog of narcissism that will cloud your vision and put you under his spell. “There are castles of things I want to tell you,” Schroder says at the opening. “Which might explain the enthusiasm of this document, despite what you could call its sad story.”

Indeed, it turns out that Schroder has been building castles in the air for a long time, ever since he and his father fled East Germany and came to America in 1979. At the age of 14, without his father’s knowledge, Erik made up a fake name — Eric Kennedy — and applied for a scholarship to a summer camp. There, in the idyllic woods, he invented a fresh new identity, scented with rumors of a distant connection to the Hyannis Port Kennedys. In the grand tradition of American immigrants, he hammered together a usable past from the basic blocks of American myth. “I was constantly at work being Eric Kennedy,” he says, disguising his accent, hiding his “Germanness.” He went to college, married an earnest young woman who knew nothing about his real identity, and they had a little girl named Meadow. Soon, though, Eric’s erratic behavior ruined their marriage, and they entered into an unstable separation.

Gaige was inspired by a news account of Christian Karl Gerhartsreiter, who immigrated to the United States from Germany in his teens, assumed the name Clark Rockefeller, and went on to develop a fraudulent life as a wealthy married man. But “Schroder” isn’t a fictionalized version of that sensational real event. Gaige has developed her own less glamorous but more poignant story. What’s more, she’s cleverly woven together the national psyches of Schroder’s old and new homes. He’s a man compelled by the complications of German history to deny his past and seduced by the promises of American mythology to invent a new one. The Wall that he and his father crossed over was no more solid than the barrier between the two selves he’s constructed in his own mind.

A visiting writer at Amherst College, Gaige displays an unnerving insight into the grandiosity and fragility of the middle-aged male ego, what Schroder refers to as his “latent exceptionalism.” He speaks about himself with glib self-knowledge and psychological insight that seem an act of confession, but they’re actually symptoms of a faux identity. Beneath the surface of Schroder’s “lovingly constructed American life,” Gaige lets us feel the slow-acting poison of his deceit. Yes, he can write beautifully, he’s charming and loquacious, full of engaging factoids about history and mildly amusing observations on modern culture, but there’s something manic about this con man’s patter, something a little too polished about this effort to humanize himself, something that scratches the inner ear of our suspicion.

What follows is the shocking story of how he skipped town with his 6-year-old daughter during one of her weekly visits and took her on an increasingly treacherous flight from the law. “The word abduction is all wrong,” he insists. “It was more like an adventure. . . . I was merely very, very late to return her from an agree-upon visit.” How many times have newly divorced, thoroughly exasperated young mothers had to deal with their own glad-handing Schroders? “This is exactly the sort of easily misunderstood intrigue that could find its way into the tabloids,” he says with that reflexive dismissiveness that once infuriated his wife.

Adventure or abduction, his tale makes for a fascinating mixture of candor and self-justification, a testimony that glosses over the most harrowing and negligent behavior with buoyant good cheer and professions of love. And what makes it all deeply tragic, instead of merely psychologically thrilling, is that Schroder really does adore his daughter. His descriptions of their little science experiments and charming repartee are moments of bliss that any parent will resonate to. The delight he takes in Meadow is as palpable as the panic he feels at losing her.

That affection, though, is tinged with dread: “I wanted to be with my daughter more than anything,” he says, “and yet I also wanted to be free of that desire. I wanted to be free of that desire because I knew being with her had an end.” How dangerously might a congenital liar behave when threatened with the prospect of total exposure, the complete dismantling of a tower of lies? “I was reckless, illogical, maybe even lacking moral character,” he confesses, “but I was not crazy.” As always, there’s just no way to say that without sounding a bit looney.

Gaige has published two previous novels and was chosen in 2006 for the National Book Foundation’s “5 Under 35” honor, but now, with endorsements from such heavyweights as Jonathan Franzen and Jennifer Egan, “Schroder” is clearly her breakout book. With its psychological acuity, emotional complexity and topical subject matter, it deserves all the success it can find. I wish there were such a thing as a Divorced Couples Book Club just so we could listen in on the tangled responses.

“Look at me. Imagine me,” Schroder pleads near the end of his wildly rambling, incriminating statement, awash in grief so desperate that your heart breaks for him, but so self-absorbed that he’s a little repellent. “There is almost nothing that distinguishes me from all the other sad men and women who have languished in the American family court system,” he says. “They became damaged people, really. Deranged people. Because, of course, there is one thing that really deranges us, and that is the disappearance of love.”

It’s a testimony, finally, to our extraordinary powers of self-delusion. His crimes may be unusual, but any number of us might mutter, “Ich bin ein Schroder.”

[Lisa Lingrell · Rating 5 out of 5]

It must be impossible to love thyself, when uncomfortable in your own skin. As a child, when life is intolerable, how many have pretended for better things? To be a better person and the bad feeling you hold for yourself, the memories, the disconnection, eventually leaves, as you no longer acknowledge the person you know. This is purely a safety mechanism to save the self. A reinvention for a better brighter future. Makes perfect sense. It wasn't his fault to delude a future of happiness and possibility. To escape...

But isn't that what childhood is? An involuntary adventure? A Kidnapping? What angel said to you, "Excuse me, would you like to be born now? Would you like to be born to this one or to that one?" When did you consent to your own life?

When life becomes to much of a burden to bare, how often does common sense prevail? Particularly when the life you know is coming to an end.

There is one thing that really deranges us, and that is the disappearance of love

Erik Kennedy or Erik Schroder, either way his daughter loved him. Though his compulsive lying was his own undoing, I understood why. An unforgiving East Berlin, a silent practical father where life was black and white. Every wrong decision was made for the right reasons. It saddens me to think his daughter would never see the man he truly was. This is an original unique story of courage and stupidity, of a man wanting to be many things but himself. I loved it!

[Bonnie Brody · Rating 5 out of 5]

Who is Schroder? Is he Erik Schroder, his given name, or is he Eric Kennedy, his self-proclaimed name that he took at the age of 14? Schroder was born in East Germany when the wall was still up. A political refugee, he ended up in Dorchester, Massachusetts with his father when a boy. At fourteen his goal was to go to a camp in New Hampshire and he applied to it under the name ‘Eric Kennedy’. He won a scholarship to the camp and at that time there were so data bases, social security cards were voluntary, and it was difficult to trace someone’s real identity.

Schroder went on to college, inventing a background. He said he came from Twelve Hills, a non-existent town near Hyannis Port. While never saying he was a relative of the Kennedys, he never denied a relationship either. After college he met Laura and immediately fell in love. They married shortly after. After his marriage he said to himself that “he finally got it – the American secret – that the only person who could obstruct a man was himself.” This reminds me of Ayn Rand’s philosophy and especially Atlas Shrugged. Schroder’s hubris is boundless and the reader is just waiting for his fall. However, “his decision to be happy seemed only to invite him to rededicate himself to his made-up past.”

Truth, for Schroder occurs on several different levels and bends to accommodate different situations. It’s like an Escher painting of the tilted floors, a maze that one cannot ever finish and that goes nowhere and everywhere. His identity is like Gumby and it bends to suit every occasion.

The marriage does not last long. Laura and Schroder have a baby, Meadow, a gifted child who doesn’t let much go past her. Laura begins to see the erosions in Schroder’s being and wants a divorce. As they are in the process of divorcing, Schroder decides to abscond with Meadow and take her on a road trip. He is angry. The custody decision is on Laura’s side and he can have only supervised visits. On one level he realizes the horrific nature of what he’s doing and plans to return Meadow shortly. However, he keeps on with the trip, not really sensing where this will lead him, metaphorically and literally.

Schroder is a man without scruples. He realizes that he can’t bring Meadow back because then everyone will find out he’s Schroder and he will have to give back his identity as Eric Kennedy. “I wasn’t ready to blow up my life. Maybe nobody else cared about it, but it was my life. My lovingly constructed American life. I wanted to keep being who I was. I wanted to keep being Eric Kennedy. If I went back now, they’d make me be Schroder. And claiming that name would be part of my punishment.”

This is a wonderful novel, well-written and poetic. The style is unique with Schroder’s research included in the story as footnotes. He is studying pauses and negative space, an esoteric research project that seems to take him nowhere, as his own being has taken him nowhere. He is narcissistic and broken, yet without insight. The author, Amity Gaige, has a wonderful interview at the end of the book. I look forward to further works from this author and highly recommend this book to all serious readers.

[Noeleen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Schroder tells the story of Erik Schroder, who as a young boy, along with his father, fled East Germany when Germany was then a divided country. Upon arrival in America, at a summer camp, Eric decides to change his name and identity to the more affluent ‘Kennedy’. Subsequently, as a result of the breakdown of his marriage to his wife Laura, Eric ends up kidnapping his own daughter, Meadow. Schroder is the story of Eric’s apology from a correctional facility to his wife Laura. In this document he outlines his reasons for behaving the way he does, looks back on his past, his childhood and examines his own experience as a husband and father.

Although the story is definitely an interesting one, a father kidnapping their own child and is very well written, I felt that this book would have worked better for me if the prose was simpler. The prose appeared to be too’ highbrow’ in relation to the overall story and theme of the book. I would have preferred the use of more straight-forward language. I did enjoy the interactions between Eric and Meadow ‘on the road’. Meadow’s observations on life and conversations with Eric were one of the best aspects of the book. We could be forgiven at times for thinking that it was Meadow who was the parent rather than Eric. We never really get to fully know the characters of Laura or Eric, most especially Eric. Although we can find sympathy for his situation and actions, he is not a likeable character. As much as we try to connect with him, he makes this difficult for us. He recognises this himself in his writings to Laura, ‘I’ve got a legal obligation to humanize myself’. He is definitely an interesting character but a character that is distant, at times perhaps robotic and somewhat mechanical. It is like he has programmed his own mind to behave in a certain way in his efforts to gain acceptance for his new life in America whilst trying to leave his old identity behind. However, when this fails for him, in his desperation, and when both he and his world are falling to pieces around him, he doesn’t know how to react and behave. This is not part of his plan, this doesn't fit the formula he has carved out for himself. Confused and bereft of his situation, even then, he won’t or can’t allow the ‘human side’ of his nature and personality to exist.

Overall, I liked this book, but I didn’t love it. It just fell flat for me and my own expectations of it. However, I would recommend this book to all who enjoy contemporary literary fiction and books which focus on character studies. Book Clubs may also enjoy for discussion purposes.

I received a copy of this book from the publishers, Hachette Book Group (Twelve), courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for my honest review.

[T. Greenwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel opens in a familiar way, "What follows is a record of where Meadow and I have been since our disappearance." For anyone who has read Lolita, the parallels (between this "confession," between these characters -- Humbert Humbert and Erik Schroder, between the two kidnappings) are obvious. However, Schroder is not a pedophile, but a desperate father who has abducted his own daughter. He is also a liar. His entire life a fiction. The novel, written in the epistolary form to his ex-wife, Laura, slowly unravels the elaborate construct of his life.

There was so much I loved about this novel. I think that Gaige has done an incredible job with the unreliable narrator. I found myself both captivated and disturbed by him. I longed to trust him, only to have that trust undermined. The writing is gorgeous, and the scenes vivid.

Shroder's "research" on pausology (or the power and nature of pauses and silence) was interesting, but I wonder if it might have resonated more near the end of the novel. (I kept waiting for his research to somehow come to fruition...but it didn't, for me anyway.)

As a native Vermonter, I would be remiss if I didn't point out a couple of glitches. 1. There are no billboards in Vermont. 2. The depiction of the "public academy" in St. Johnsbury (and the depiction of the bedraggled parents waiting to pick up their children) rang false. St. Johnsbury Academy is a private high school, with a huge population of dorm students, and I couldn't understand why parents of teens would a) be picking them up from school, this presumes the parents are not working b)so many pregnant mothers...really? Women with teenage kids? Anyway...probably only fellow Vermonters would take issue with this.

I also wonder (and hoping someone might chime in here) about the shift from the epistolary form of the novel to a second person near the end (where Schroder appears to be speaking to himself)...and then the several pages of what seems to be an apology (I let you down.) Because of the earlier shift in who "you" is, I didn't know whether to read this as directed toward Laura or toward himself...or perhaps, this is intentional. Regardless, it was the only moment (other than the two moments mentioned above) where I felt pulled away from the fictional dream.

I definitely recommend this book. I really, really enjoyed it.

[Marti · Rating 3 out of 5]

Crescere tedesco (dell'Est) in Michigan è imparare prima di tutto a correre. Correre senza voltarsi, senza guardare se ti stanno ancora inseguendo, correre senza fermarsi mai a rimpiangere quello che perdi, una madre due puntini sulla o un cognome una lingua il parcheggio la pazienza la connessione con la realtà. Per Schroder l'identità è una costruzione sbriciolata e sbriciolabile, intrinsecamente una finzione, ma non per questo incapace di dolcezza: la mancanza di una mamma, l'alleanza con un papà. Die Mauer dopotutto, in tedesco è femminile.

[Larry H · Rating 2 out of 5]

Eric Kennedy (maybe a distant cousin of those Kennedys) grew up in a small Massachusetts town, not far from Hyannis Port, and had a perfectly idyllic New England childhood. He met the love of his life, Laura, when she was helping a young boy who had fallen out of a tree and broke his wrist, and the two had a loving, passionate relationship, culminating in the birth of their daughter, Meadow. And while Eric wasn't always the most traditional father, he doted on Meadow, allowing her to pursue whatever adventures and ask whatever questions she wanted, and if sometimes that meant taking Meadow to an AA meeting (in support of a friend) or keeping a decomposing fox nearby so she understood the process, he did it all in love.

When Eric and Laura's marriage goes sour and the two separate, Eric is still so much in love with Laura he willingly allows her to become Meadow's main custodial parent, because he thinks his willingness to do what Laura wants will win her back. But it leaves him with visits with Meadow on alternate weekends and periodic Wednesdays, which starts to chafe him after a while, so he does what any good parent should do—try and fight for his daughter. And when he finds that fight hampered by a poor evaluation from a child custody expert, and his words and actions are turned against him, he finds himself left with no choice. One day, he and Meadow embark on a road trip—but they don't come back. They flee Albany headed for Canada, but wind up holed up in a cabin on Lake Champlain, and then continuing to flee the authorities for a few days.

In a letter to Laura, Eric looks back on his life, his actions, his love for both his daughter and his estranged wife, and his childhood. And it is in this confessional diatribe that Eric reveals a key fact: Eric Kennedy isn't a real person, nor is the Massachusetts town he says he grew up in. He's actually Erik Schroder, a West German illegal emigree, who fled to the U.S. with his father when he was seven, and grew up poor in Dorchester, Massachusetts. He changed his name as a teenager and never really looked back on that part of his life.

I felt that this story had a great deal of promise—a father's impulsive but deep love for his daughter, a man's invented identity, a life lived on the lam—but it never hooked me. Part of the reason for this is because while you can be sympathetic to Eric's motives, he is a generally unsympathetic character. His confessional letter to Laura is filled with declarations of love and explanations of his actions, from falsifying his identity to kidnapping his daughter, but it also contains a tremendous number of non-sequiturs on German history, Eric's "research" (on the famous pauses in history, moments when nothing really happened), and other items that failed to catch my attention. And Laura remains a shadowy character on the margin of the story; you're left to surmise how she feels and reacts but you never see it.

There was a lot packed into this book of under 300 pages, and the story never flowed for me. In the end, I didn't care what happened to Eric, and I just wanted his journey—both real and figurative—to end.

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

ai, wat een mooi boek. Schroder maakt een tocht met zijn dochter en brengt haar niet op tijd weer terug. maar het is gecompliceerder dan dat. het gaat ook over identiteit, over gekozen identiteit. over de grenzen van de realiteit. en over zijn vreemde relatie, obsessie, met stilte.
maar eigenlijk maakt het niet uit waar dit boek over gaat: het is uniek, zowel in de schrijfstijl als de gekozen vorm. en de hoofdpersoon zal bij blijven, denk ik.

boordevol sterke, mooie, heldere zinnen. aanrader!

fragment: http://winterlief.blogspot.nl/2013/02...

[Natalie Richards · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a very good book and will be looking out for more to read by Amity Gaige..My main feelings after reading this book is that Erik Schroder loved his wife and daughter but when the marriage broke down and his wife dictated where and when Erik could see their daughter, then his desperation started. While I don`t agree with all his decisions, the fact that he could not see his daughter brought about such grief that he could not think clearly. This is another reminder of the damage of separation and divorce on children and on the fathers, who nearly always get the rough end of the deal.

[Fiona]

After picking this up on two separate occasions, and managing no more than ten pages each time, I can only assume that end-of-2014-Fi and this book are not suited to each other. I may come back, or I may never look at the damned thing again. It's not that I didn't like it, it's just that I didn't really care.

I also have a sinking suspicion that I went into this wanting it to be written by Lionel Shriver, which was always going to make it a bit of a disappointment. Sadly DNF-ed, then, and I may come back to it eventually if I ever manage to pep up my give-a-shit-ometer.

[Xenja · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un romanzo molto cinematografico: mi stupirebbe se non ne facessero un film. Ed è anche un romanzo che ricorda molto, per come è scritto e costruito, Lolita; senza, ovviamente, la magnifica prosa di Nabokov. L’autore racconta e confessa in prima persona come è scappato con la propria figlia bambina e come ha passato, con lei, una settimana on the road; confessione in cui si rivela un pessimo padre e un pessimo uomo – ma scopriremo che, se è possibile avere delle attenuanti, lui ne ha un paio nascoste e radicate nella buia infanzia (non volevo scriverlo, ma ancora una volta, l’ennesima, devo constatare che la quarta di copertina ha già spoilerato quello che secondo me il lettore dovrebbe ignorare). Forse il mio scarso entusiasmo dipende dal fatto che, a differenza di altri lettori anche illustri, non sono riuscita a empatizzare con il protagonista/narratore, che definirei un cialtrone e un vigliacco. Preferisco di gran lunga il pedofilo Humbert. La bambina invece, naturalmente, è geniale: non si mette mai un bambino comune nella narrativa, credo lo insegnino nei corsi di scrittura creativa.
Romanzo non proprio brutto, risente però di troppi stereotipi e soprattutto d’una certa mancanza di personalità propria.
2/3

[Dara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, I have really started 2024 with some intense, double meaning, thought provoking, sometimes crazy, books! This was a rollercoaster for me! It was sometimes awful but also intriguing. I spent a lot of time at the beginning trying to figure the MC out. I truly didn’t know if I felt compassion for him or anger. I think in the end, I found him to be flawed, to have lived through his own struggles, but still loved deeply and in a lot of ways was doing his best. I think it’ll be a great conversation at bookclub because there’s definitely a lot to process and pick apart!

[fiordiligi · Rating 4 out of 5]

un romanzo che è una riflessione sui rapporti interpersonali e familiari, sulla linea sottile tra ciò che è menzogna e ciò che viene semplicemente taciuto, e che racconta un uomo che vive con un’identità che non è la sua, fino a quando tutto non si sgretola

[david · Rating 1 out of 5]

Shredder is a more apt title.

[Chris Liberty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Schroder is a quirky story that takes place in Albany, NY. It's loosely based on Clark Rockefeller, the eccentric child abductor/murder/sociopathic liar. It's part confessional, travel journal, love story, overindulgent introspection, action thriller, among others. The prose is a bit too poetic at times, but on the whole, it’s worthwhile reading.

It was exciting reading a novel that takes place in my hometown. Amity Gaige describes Albany and the Capital District early on: "In order to answer this question, I really have to start with a description of North Albany in February: In North Albany in February, the flora and fauna are dead, the traffic turns the snow the color of tobacco juice, the children are shuttered away in their schools, and the long days are silent. The cats grow wet and skinny, and the rain grows hard and bitter, as if it is not rain but the liquid redistribution of collective conflict; it’s a frigid rain, a rain that pricks the skin of any upturned face, a damning rain that makes men eke corks from bottles. O February, you turn our hearts to stone. Now, at every other time of year, Albany is a delightful city. With its magnificent state capitol, cribbed from some Parisian design, and its city hall based on that of our sister city, Ypres, Belgium, and the thirty-six marble pillars along the colonnade of the education building, Albany surprises the casual tourist. How, the tourist wonders, in the middle of upstate New York, did he stumble across this European metropolis? He walks out into the wide open of the Empire State Plaza and is awed by the scale, the towering buildings - even the one that resembles an immense egg- doubled in the reflecting pool, which is itself end to end the length of three football fields."

[Nicholas Gresens · Rating 2 out of 5]

I heard about this book on NPR and was intrigued. The story is certainly compelling, and the main character is sympathetic, at least to an extent. He is sympathetic to the extent that we have all been, or have imagined having been, in a situation where we have been forced to perpetuate what at first seemed an entirely benign lie. What's more, we have all been in a situation where we have wished we could recreate our identity to fit a more perfect vision of whom we imagine ourselves to be. This book takes that as its premise and runs with it. It is, more or less, about a man who, while still a teenager, decided to create a new identity for himself and then, through a series of bad choices, must deal with the consequences of owning this false identity. He is less sympathetic for the bad choices he makes. Perhaps this is where the novel serves its purpose--it takes a common occurrence and draws it out to the extreme so that we could experience it without having to live through it, not unlike what Aristotle claimed was the purpose of Tragedy. The voice of the narrator (the main character, Eric) was a bit artificial, with too many saccharine-y turns of phrases to be believable, but this is my only major complaint. I enjoyed the depictions of upstate New York and Boston, but only because I've lived in those places (admittedly not in the capital region, but I've been through it), I'm not sure if anyone else would find these settings compelling, though. I won't give away how it ends, it is a quick read, suitable for a dreary, contemplative day more than a bright, shiny beach day.