Noi e la morte di Stella

by Marlen Haushofer, Eusebio Trabucchi (Translator)

Chi ha ucciso Stella? Cos’è successo dal giorno in cui la diciannovenne è arrivata in città, ospite di Anna e Richard, a quello in cui è stata investita da un camion? È la stessa Anna a chiederselo, seduta alla finestra mentre guarda il suo amato giardino, e comincia a scrivere in cerca di un’impossibile risposta. Quella che prende forma è una storia intessuta delle ipocrisie del marito Richard, del celato disprezzo del figlio Wolfgang e della cinica impotenza della donna che la racconta. Pubblicato nel 1958, «Noi e la morte di Stella» è il diario di una catastrofe annunciata, la confessione di una donna tradita e stanca, testimone complice di un delitto senza castigo né redenzione. Con una voce perfida Marlen Haushofer mette a nudo una società borghese e patriarcale in cui le buone maniere sono il segno della più atroce indifferenza e la cortesia è una virtù da assassini.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Horror, Novella, Short Stories, Literary Fiction, Audiobook

93 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1958

About the author

Marlen Haushofer was born in Frauenstein, Molln, Austria on April the 11th, 1920. She went to a Catholic gymnasium that was turned in a public school under the Nazi regime. She started her studies on German Language and Literature, in 1940 in Vienna and later on in Graz. She married the dentist Manfred Haushofer in 1941, they divorced in 1950 but reunited in 1957. They had a son together, in addition to the one son she had brought to their “second” marriage.

Although Marlen Haushofer won prizes for her work and gained critics laud, she was an almost forgotten author until the Women's Movement rediscovered her, with special attention of the role of women in the male-dominated society themes in her work.

Die Wand (The Wall) can be seen as her main-work. It was published 1963, and it's a novel about a woman cut off from society that made her living on her own in the woods. Not only because of the open ending, the novel allows a big variety of interpretations.
Marlen Haushofer came down with bone cancer and died on March the 21st 1970, she was only 49 years old.

Reviews

[Ilse · Rating 5 out of 5]

Killing Stella

Many of us are acquainted with the human flaws known as the seven cardinal sins, a classification of vices of Christian origin, encompassing pride, lust, greed, envy, wrath, sloth and gluttony. In Flanders, a popular weekly has been using the sins as an interview format for years, and the Vatican gave a modern twirl to them in 2008, by listing new sins such as causing environmental blight, genetic modification and causing poverty.



In 1958 the Austrian writer Marlen Haushofer (1920-1970) published a disconcerting tale on the – in this case not only cardinal but also deadly - sin of sloth, as a mind-state of unresponsiveness, a passive inert or sluggish mentation, the disregard of the seven gifts of grace (wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, piety, fortitude, fear of the Lord), leading to the neglect of one’s duties of charity towards its fellow creatures – a failure to do things that one should do.

Frailty, thy name is woman

Anna, a 40 year old Austrian housewife, reflects on the death of Stella, the 19 year old daughter of a friend who has lived temporarily with Anna and her family. Alone in the house for the weekend while her husband and two children are away, she ruthlessly dissects her own emotions and behaviour which have furthered Stella’s death. At first an nondescript, even mouselike girl, Anna encourages Stella to reveal her ‘underlying beauty’ by dressing her up in more flattering clothes. As a result, Richard, Anna’s adulterous husband, seduces Stella, exploiting her ingenuousness, dropping her after a few weeks, after which Stella dies in a traffic accident. Anna concedes to have stood by motionlessly letting her husband annihilate Stella’s life. She did nothing to help, protect or warn the young girl, turning a blind eye to Stella’s misery, evading mercilessly every contact with ill and unhappy people, like her husband does.

Without intervening, she observes Stella’s downfall like she is watching the dying of a little bird which has fallen out of the nest from her window, wishing half-heartedly to turn back time and restore the harm done to both creatures epitomizing weakness and frailty, but without taking action.



Submissively enduring the humiliation of adultery Anna discloses her weak spot, her desire to safeguard the Freudian realm of bliss she has created with her son. As Anna is a mere object to her husband, something he possesses, just like the house and the children, she looks for a surrogate to love in her son Wolfgang, debouching in a semi-perverse attachment to the war child he is. She never confronts her husband with his untrue behaviour and favours the apparent calm and peace above addressing the truth, burying her head in the sand of indifference.

Torn apart by her pusillanimous complicity , Anna bitterly considers herself culpable in relation to Stella’s death, having preferred to uphold the spurious household harmony in her family, however suffocating to its members, including herself.

The omission of good is no less reprehensible than the commission of evil.
(Plutarch)

Barbarism begins at home. Where is Anna on the thin line between victim and perpetrator? Her motives and state of mind are repulsive and fascinating at the same time. Are there any extenuating circumstances exonerating this crime of sloth? Even if the suffocating patriarchal bourgeois family structure could be blamed for Anna’s paralysis to a certain extent, Haushofer does not let any member of the nuclear family raise undamaged for the wreckage of cowardice and neglect. Could one simply sigh and quote Joyce, ‘Frailty, thy name is marriage’, as Anne deliberately cages herself in the marital institution? As there is no virtue in suffering in itself, I presume Haushofer wouldn’t agree. 'It is not only what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable.'(Molière). Haushofer’s brilliant story on guilty silence is proverbial in recalling the hushing up of the Holocaust in the stagnating denazification process of Austria in the fifties even as it is troubling the present day reader’s conscience with disturbing moral questions.


Charles Joshua Chaplin, Fallen Bird's Nest

Wir töten Stella (We murder Stella/Killing Stella) is a highly suggestive, atmospheric and chillingly dark novella about guilt by omission, the failure and refusal to act when a person is in need, by omitting one’s responsibilities, and its unsettling consequences.

An Austrian film adaptation of the novella by Julian Pölsler came out in 2017. As We Murder Stella is reputed to be Marlen Haushofer’s first fully achieved piece of writing and a 'prequel' to her more known The Wall (also a film by Pölsler), I look forward to read that as well.

I heartily thank M. Sarki for bringing this intriguing author to my attention.

[Robin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A chilling, gothic novella, which illustrates the power of inaction, but far more than that.

Anna takes in the teenage daughter of a "frenemy", a woman who she cannot stand, to live with her unhappy family for ten months. From the outset, this young woman is clearly represented by the crying baby bird outside Anna's window, crying for a mother who is never going to come. We know, from the title, that the young woman is doomed.

Killing Stella (originally published in German in 1958, but only now available in English translation) is Anna's account of Stella's time with the family. I'm reminded of The Good Soldier, because we are only privy to the narrator's thoughts and point of view. This point of view is masterfully misleading. Initially, it appears as though Anna is crushed, crushed by the horrific recent events, and also crushed by life. Her husband Richard is a predatory lawyer, who has constant affairs, and who considers her a possession. Her daughter Annette, she describes as gentle and as vulnerable as a young tiger (much like Richard). It's only Wolfgang, her teenage son, who she delights in, and with whom she covets time and connection.

So when Stella arrives, she creates a disruption in the strange and sick balance of Anna's life. Stella, a homely and quiet creature, largely unloved. Why does she meet her sudden and violent end?

It's only as we journey through Anna's narrative that it becomes clearer and clearer who is the tiger, and who is the tiger's keeper. There is powerful inaction that takes place, but, more importantly, there is definitely an orchestration, a preparation of the prey for the one on the top of the food chain.

I'm looking forward to reading The Wall by this author. Her writing holds a dark, meticulously controlled intelligence, and I want more.

[Jennifer nyc · Rating 4 out of 5]

An older, wiser friend once said, “If we all threw our problems on the sidewalk, we’d pick up our own.” In a way, Killing Stella is an admission of that; of the lengths we’d go to—both in action and resistance—to maintain the status quo of our lives, however painful. Playing with the psychological ooze that comes from the twist and squeeze of a woman’s domestic life in 1958, Haushofer’s tale reminded me of Patricia Highsmith, or Daphne du Maurier’s shorts. Despite the refined language and structure, however, these barely 5” x 4,” 87 pages of text didn’t linger for me the way Highsmith and du Maurier do.

All comes from the mind of a single narrator; here are some quotes for a feel:

“It’s true, a human being can endure a lot, not only out of habit, but because a faint spark glimmers within them, which they secretly hope will one day allow them to break the habit. The fact that they usually can’t, out of weakness and cowardice, does not speak against it.”

“Thinking people must always give up living, and living people do not need to think.”

“I am Richard’s wife entirely, and since I can no longer bear that, I am condemned to a life of solitude.”

[Steffi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Als Teenager habe ich alles verschlungen, was ich von Marlen Haushofer in die Finger kriegen konnte. Schon damals faszinierte mich nicht nur was ich las, sondern warum mich diese Protagonistinnen so ansprachen. Das sind keine sympathischen Frauen, völlig erstarrt in ihren wenig glücklichen Ehen, dabei alles genau sehend, durchschauend. Frauen, die ganz offensichtlich psychisch beschädigt sind, nur dass ich mich frage, welche Art von Diagnose würde man ihnen denn ausstellen können. Und ich meine das ganz ernst: Wer diese Novelle gelesen hat und eine Idee hat, wie man den Zustand Annas beschreiben kann, ich wüsste es gerne…

In dieser meisterhaft erzählten Geschichte wird eine nach außen perfekt anmutende Familie beschrieben. Ein Ehepaar, zwei Kinder, wohlhabend, ein Haus, eine Bedienerin. Nach innen ist das Ganze verrottet, der Mann ist machtfixiert und hat zahlreiche Affären, die Frau ignoriert dies und flüchtet sich in eine kompensierende enge Beziehung zum Sohn. Unausgesprochene Regeln, Macht und Ohnmacht, sorgen dafür, dass die Ruhe aufrechterhalten wird. Doch dann nimmt die Familie für mehrere Monate die Tochter einer Bekannten auf und die Ordnung gerät ins Wanken…

Ich war bei der erneuten Lektüre nach Jahren noch begeisterter als damals. Das ist wirklich wunderbar geschrieben. Man schwankt beim Lesen zwischen Empathie, Verachtung und Verzweiflung. Ich muss auf jeden Fall auch andere Bücher von Haushofer erneut lesen.

[Paula Mota · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don’t expect mail – I never expect letters. The only person that could write me an important letter is me, so it will never be written.

Depois de ter lido três obras de Marlen Haushofer, só consigo pensar que as protagonistas de “Killing Stella”, “A Parede” e “A Mansarda” são três versões da mesma pessoa: uma mulher de meia-idade com um casamento infeliz ou divorciada, com dois filhos, isolada por paredes, físicas ou não, a fazer um relato na primeira pessoa, tendo um diário como confessor, com uma existência rotineira em confronto com uma vida interior efervescente.

Something had happened to me years ago that left me in a diminished state, an automaton that just gets on with its work, barely suffers, and is only turned back for seconds at a time into the living young woman that it once was. The touching curve of Wolfgang’s neck, the roses in the white vase, a draught billowing the curtains and all of the sudden I’m aware that I’m still alive. Then there’s the other thing, which fills me with fear, with horror, with the feeling that something’s going to jump out at me at any moment a break down the invisible wall.

Pergunto-me até que ponto todas elas não são a própria autora, igualmente casada, divorciada e novamente casada com a mesma pessoa, também com dois filhos, a escrever até que morreu de cancro, com apenas 50 anos. Na última carta que redigiu, uma semana antes do fim, é possível perceber que a resignação perante a vida é precisamente a das suas personagens femininas:

“Do not worry. You have seen too much and too little, just like everyone before you. You have cried too much, maybe too little, just like everyone before you. Maybe you have loved and hated too much – but not for long – twenty years or so. What are twenty years anyway? After that, part of you died, just like it did for all people who can no longer love nor hate […] Do not worry. Everything will have been in vain, just like it has always been. A completely normal story.”

Anna, casada com um mulherengo inveterado e mãe de dois filhos, Wolfgang e Annette, vê a sua vida pacata e estática, passada sobretudo a olhar da janela para o seu jardim, perturbada pelo pedido de uma velha “amiga”: receber durante um ano em sua casa a filha, Stella, uma jovem saída de um convento, agora a fazer um curso para poder futuramente gerir a farmácia que o pai lhe deixou em herança.

The linden tree knows about my betrayal, and the dying bird knows it too. They don’t want me any longer. I read it in the eyes of the children, I sense it when I stroke strange dogs and cats, and when I feed the hyacinth on my little table, it freezes in fear and self-defense. Traitors aren’t forgiven, its shining flowers tell me, and its fragrance reminds me of the sticky smell that rose from Stella’s coffin.

Como revela o título, Stella está agora morta, e o que este desabafo da protagonista desvenda aos poucos são as circunstâncias dessa morte, a culpa que ela sente pelo seu papel nessa tragédia e as suas consequências na dinâmica familiar. Pode ser-se cúmplice pela passividade e pelo receio de perturbar uma paz podre? Marlen Haushofer é, mais uma vez, brilhante e incómoda na introspeção de uma mulher a um gesto de perder o juízo.

Stella was dead, and I felt a great sense of relief. Never again would I have to rack my brains for something to say to her, never again would I see her pale, shattered face. Stella was dead, and I could return to my old life with Wolfgang, the garden, and the good order of everyday life. The relief was so great that I started laughing softly.

[Jillian B · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a very short book but it is packed with emotion. Our narrator is a housewife who is home alone for a weekend and reflecting on the recent death of Stella, a friend’s daughter who had been staying with their family. The narrator is at times frustratingly unsympathetic, but that makes it a far more interesting story. Seeing the world through her flawed gaze adds dimension to the story of how Stella died. I recommend this one, and I suggest going in mostly blind, as I did.

[Henk · Rating 3 out of 5]

Giving me vibes of Rosamund Pike complaining about the inconvenience of an acquaintance killing herself in Saltburn, this short novel contemplates inaction in relation to guilt
I read somewhere that you can get used to anything, and habit is the strongest force in our lives.

Featuring Anna, the 40 year old narrator home alone, contemplating an abandoned bird. Richard, her adulterous lawyer husband and Wolfgang, her teenage son plus Anette, a younger daughter. And 19 year old tortured Stella, who dies in a car crash that might have been far from accidental, as the title of the book suggests.

The writing is stellar and cutting and there is a tension in how far comfort and routine trumps morality and consequences, as Richard is a renowned and merciless divorce lawyer. But even inaction can corrosively lead oneself to turn into something unrecognisable: Every minute, every second transforms us further from ourselves.

There is a lot of internalised misogyny in the narrator’s voice and her attempts to make-over plain, cloistered Stella into something worldly, implicitly mirroring how she probably met and fell under the spell of Richard, backfires spectacularly.
An interesting work from 1958 which makes me curious to pick up The Wall!

Quotes:
And even if I walked in front of a car, it wouldn’t be bad, I mean, not really bad.

I don’t have any illusions either, but I live as if I did.

Sometimes I find myself thinking that it’s my inability to believe that attracts calamity.

Stella had been pale in the last weeks too, but she was nineteen, and suffering refined her face, making it more adult and charming. A woman over thirty needs to be able to stop suffering, it doesn’t do anything good to her appearance by then.

She was a bit too healthy and strong for modern tastes.

He simply doesn’t understand that there are some people you despise and still cannot escape.

Both of them, Annette and her father, are born decoys, traps tgat God, or whoever, has set for other people, the heavy, loyal, imaginative, and emotional ones. Perhaps Annette is also too healthy and happy to be truly loved. This child will always achieve what she wishes for, and will never wish for anything unattainable. She is just as weak and helpless as a young tiger or a carnivorous plant. Richard is proud of this daughter, but he knows exactly who she is: a good-natured companion as long as he indulges all of her moods.
But since he has never loved anything as much as himself, he must also love this little image of himself.

Whose fault is it that I can’t just accept things as they are?

There was a void in her breast, and it would draw the world toward it.

No one is a stricter guardian of morality than the secret lawbreaker, for it is clear to them that humanity would crumble and perish if everyone lived as they did.

[megs_bookrack · Rating 3 out of 5]

Killing Stella is a subtle Domestic Horror story, originally published in the late-1950s, which has recently been translated into English for the 1st-time.

I was intrigued by the premise and always enjoy exploring more Classic Horror stories. This is a novella, coming in at around 88-pages, and was very easy to get through.

The story is written in a sort of confessional-style, with our protagonist, Anna, relaying the tragic events that befell her family after she and her husband, Richard, took in an acquaintance's teenage daughter, Stella.



I found this interesting and easily readable, though I wish it would have delved even deeper into the events that surrounded Stella staying with Richard and Anna.

It is very stream of consciousness, as again, you are reading this as a bit of a confessional from Anna. In fact, at the very end, she comments how she had been writing for 2-hours. It was like she needed to purge the events, and the subsequent guilt, from her body.

While I appreciated the topics explored by Haushofer, and I'm sure this was a bit risque at the time it was written because of those topics, I'm not sure how well it holds up in the modern Domestic Horror landscape.



I think this will be enjoyed most by Readers who enjoy the Classics, and also who enjoy more psychologically-focused, quietly-told, Horror stories.

At the end of the day, I'm glad I picked this up. I'm happy it was translated and that I got to experience it. I think it's important to explore and appreciate the roots of Horror, my favorite genre.

[cass krug · Rating 4 out of 5]

killing stella is a housewife’s account of bringing her friend’s teenage daughter into her home, and the subsequent destruction (both emotionally and literally) of the daughter while our narrator does nothing to intervene. cold, dark, and bleak, but written in a way that pulls you into the narrator’s spiral as she tries to untangle the disaster that she let happen within her home.

so glad i picked this up along with a copy of haushofer’s other book, the wall. decided to dive into this one first since i love a tiny book, and it delivered the sort of sharp, focused prose i love in a story this short. almost reminiscent of the dry heart by natalia ginzburg in that aspect, as well as the darker themes. 4.5 ⭐️

[casey · Rating 3 out of 5]

kinda of wanted a bit more out of this idkk

[Moira Macfarlane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tergend langzaam bouwt de spierspanning zich op en sluit die vuist zich. 

De beeldtaal van de kaft is minstens zo sterk als de inhoud van deze -verstikkende- novelle. Wat een schrijfster was ze toch!

'Jaren geleden moet er iets met mij zijn gebeurd, sindsdien denk ik het niet te kunnen verdragen dat, ongrijpbaar voor mijn verstand en mijn hart, goed en kwaad één zijn.'

'Natuurlijk zou ik ook aan de toekomst kunnen denken, maar dat doe ik nooit. Die zal er helemaal zonder mijn toedoen komen en zal op een griezelige manier van ons degene maken die we nooit hebben willen zijn. Elke minuut, elke seconde brengt ons verder af van onszelf.'

[Doug · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5, rounded up.

I came to this in rather a round-about way - I had seen Julian Pölsler's bizarre and intriguing film adaptation of Haushofer's best-known work, The Wall, and discovered the director had ALSO filmed this short novella, which he claimed as a 'prequel' to the other work. In fact, the two written works are completely separate, but Pölsler made a rather spurious connection by casting Martina Gedeck as the female lead in both.

Due to that link - and because this work is much shorter, I decided to read this first to sample the author's writing. It's a quick and sly work that can be read in a little over an hour, and reminded me of the short stories of Shirley Jackson, or perhaps Daphne du Maurier.

It concerns Anna, a wife and mother who has made her peace with a somewhat fractious family unit, which becomes upset further upon the arrival of the titular Stella, the teenage daughter of a family friend, who comes to live with them for a year while her own mother takes an extended vacation. What happens unravels slowly and the reader must often read between the lines, until the harrowing last sentence reveals all.

For those interested, here are the trailers to the two film adaptations:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFfwx...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Qa-L...

The entirety of The Wall is also on YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jnh20...

[Karenina (Nina Ruthström) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Aj! Att läsa denna korta roman är som att bli krossad under en mur som rasar över en. Eller varför inte en vägg? En riktigt mörk och kraftfull rysare detta. ”Väggen” nämns faktiskt två gånger som en genomskinlig barriär som innesluter protagonisten i sin bubbla. Haushofer har seglat upp i toppen på min lista över favoritförfattare. Jag älskar hennes allvarsamma stil och filosofiska inpass.
”De tänkande måste alltid avstå från att leva, och de levande behöver inte tänka.”
Fem svaga stjärnor.

[nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

if you're an anxious-avoidant kind of person (like me) this book is going to kick you upside the head. a fascinating character study on the banality of evil and the cruelty of inaction wrapped up in a nice little domestic gothic novella.
sadly i do have to note that my copy had many grammatical errors and a few typos; seems like the proofreading was not done well and it took me out of the story every time :(

[Maureen Grigsby · Rating 4 out of 5]

Marlen Haushofer writes these small, delightfully creepy books! I am here for it.

[Gabril · Rating 4 out of 5]

“La mia legge era l’inviolabilità della vita, e ho oltrepassato il mio, di limite, permettendo con tranquillità e noncuranza che la vita di Stella venisse annientata davanti ai miei occhi. […] ho condotto l’esistenza della signora agiata, mi sono affacciata alla finestra e ho respirato il profumo delle stagioni, mentre intorno a me si uccideva e feriva”.

Romanzo breve e lancinante, come forse è stata la vita stessa di Marlen Haushofer, scrittrice austriaca che ha vissuto ai margini del palcoscenico letterario ed è stata per decenni ingiustamente dimenticata.
Haushofer racconta di solitudine femminile, di una società patriarcale asfittica e cancerogena, di ipocrisia borghese che cela nelle belle apparenze il suo nido di serpi.

In questa storia viene proprio messa in scena la classica famiglia borghese anni Cinquanta. Austriaca, che è senza dubbio un’aggravante (vedi Thomas Bernhard).
Anna, la voce narrante, descrive con un’angoscia così asciutta da sfiorare l’indifferenza la storia di Stella, timida diciottenne appena uscita dal collegio che viene ospitata a casa sua per frequentare un corso post diploma.
Anna vuole liberarsi dal peso grave della sua morte, apparentemente incidentale, ma conseguenza, in realtà, del comportamento spregiudicato di suo marito Richard, impenitente seduttore, emblema del maschio vincente, dominante, intrinsecamente feroce.
E tuttavia: Noi abbiamo ucciso Stella, come recita il titolo originale del racconto, perché colpevoli sono tutti: in primo luogo il maschio alfa Richard, ma anche la stessa Anna, così sottomessa al marito, aggrappata alle abitudini quotidiane e soprattutto incapace di creare una relazione con la ragazza sua ospite. E lo stesso dicasi per i figli: l’adolescente incupito Wolfgang e l’allegra bambina Annette.

Alla narratrice non resta che appartarsi in cucina durante un weekend solitario e scrivere questa amara confessione, sperando di potersi liberare del ricordo di una giovane vita spezzata e tornare alla banalità borghese di sempre.
Ma dalla finestra aperta Anna sente arrivare il pigolio sempre più flebile di un uccellino abbandonato dalla madre e il cui destino è perciò segnato. Come quello di Stella. E come il proprio stesso destino.

Marlen Haushofer: una penna affilata, una scrittura essenziale, lucida e implacabile. Mi auguro che tutti i suoi libri vengano presto ripubblicati.

[giulisbookshop · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,5/4 stelle per una novella agghiacciante, che calza perfettamente con quello che risulta essere l'esperienza umana: ipocrisia, indifferenza e tantissima violenza, un gioco di complicità e vittimismo che vi porterà ad odiare chiunque, soprattutto dopo aver preso consapevolezza delle terrificanti allusioni che l'autrice nasconde in modo subdolo fra le righe

[Lydia Ralte · Rating 3 out of 5]

Cold. Dark. Dismal. You spiral along with the narrator.

[Sarah (menace mode) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Scary little book!!! “The Price of Inaction: a novella” is what I would rename this if I had to. I don’t think I’ve read anything that captures the domestic horror and claustrophobia of being trapped in a relationship like this book does, which I’m sure is thanks to the 1950s writing of it all. The prose is to the point and even dry, but it just serves to make you feel all of Anna’s fear, anger, regret and shame as she starts to witness Stella’s misery at the hands of husband. She’s narrating this reading him to FILTH (“No one is a stricter guardian of morality than the secret lawbreaker, for it is clear to them that humanity would crumble and perish if everyone lived as they did”) but she would never take action that would upset the delicate balance of her own happiness. Overall 10/10 and a strong addition to my 2025 anti-husband agenda reads.

[Ann (Inky Labyrinth) · Rating 3 out of 5]

A quiet, contemplative novella with a dark undertone, about a housewife reflecting on the sudden death of a young woman she knew was sleeping with her husband.

Despite not fully connecting with this piece, I feel such a kinship for Marlen Haushofer, this Austrian woman from 70 years ago who survived World War Two only to become stuck in claustrophobic heteronormative expectations. After The Wall, I will read anything I can from her.

[ThatBookish_deviant · Rating 5 out of 5]

5/5

This is a short, brutal novella that I enjoyed even more than Haushofer’s brilliant, “The Wall”.

I hope to see more of her work translated to English as what I’ve read thus far has been quite moving, impactful, and distinctly ahead of its time.

[an Anna Blume · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wie der Titel, so der Text. Berichtend, kaum mitfühlend erzählt die Protagonistin von Stella, einem Mädchen, das sie und ihr Mann aufgenommen haben. Sie selbst betrachtet die junge Frau mit Argwohn, ihr Mann misbraucht sie. Am Ende lebt Stella nicht mehr.
Sehr bedrückend.

[sophia · Rating 5 out of 5]

kind of soul crushing... way to go marlen. ughhjdhhh

[Emily Stepper · Rating 5 out of 5]

Probably one of the best translations I've ever read.

[jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

my rage went up in smoke long ago; all that remains is the horror that dominates me completely, and that i inhabit, in which i am trapped. it has entered me, it has saturated me, and it accompanies me wherever i go.

this novella is a wallop. slim enough for a single sitting, marlen haushofer’s killing stella (wir töten stella) is a grownup dose of domestic dissonance. anna has two days to herself (“two days to write down all that i need to write”) — and the story she scribes is one of dread, resentment, anxiety, anguish, resignation, and deference. killing stella’s last few pages are like rope-a-dope punches right before the knockout: the final sentence a decisive blow.

i don’t have any illusions either, but i live as if i did. i used to think i could start over again from the beginning, but it’s much too late for that now, in fact it was always too late for that, except i didn’t want to acknowledge it.

*translated from the german by shaun whiteside (haushofer’s the wall, paolo giordano, houellebecq, schalansky, musil, nietzsche, et al.)

[Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

Grijpt je, net zoals ‘De wand’, naar de keel

[Nina Pernina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Navdušena. Marlen Haushofer me je prevzela že s knjigo Stena, v tej noveli pa samo še potrdila, kako je zanimiv njen ženski svet.

Tokrat spremljamo ne ravno všečen lik gospodinje, ki goji nezdrav odnos do sina in moža, ki ne skriva varanja, pa vendar ostane vse neizrečeno, prav tako je hladna do ostalih ženskih likov. V zgodbi sem našla vzporednice z Natalijo Ginsburg in njenim delom Tako je bilo: po eni strani sta ženski protagonistki v obeh besedilih šibki, ujeti v žensko vlogo matere in gospodinje, po drugi strani pa smo priča dvema različnima scenarijema. Kaj se zgodi, ko je ženska postavljena v brezizhoden konec? Ena mori, druga pa se zapira med štiri stene.

[Peter Halbye · Rating 4 out of 5]

Virkelig god bog! lidt uhyggelig og mystisk? Hvad er det enligt lige der sker med Stella? Godt skrevet, minder måske lidt om en østrigsk Tove Ditlevsen?

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

This 87-page novella is written by Austrian novelist Marlen Haushofer. It was written before, and anticipates her novel, The Wall, which is one of my favorites. This story is chilling, deadpan, slightly surreal, and lyrical. I love Haushofer’s writing; it is not at all ornate but is pregnant with meaning, and ferreting out the meaning—or not—is just what attracts me to her books.

The story: a girl, Stella, comes to stay with a family of four at the request of her feckless mother. The arrangement is unenthusiastically accepted by the family. In the end (although it is acknowledged from the first page) this girl is killed, run over by a bus. Or was she killed by the omissions of care, attention, affection of the family supposed to look after her? In Haushofer’s world, relationships are a hazard and life itself is trouble. Things don’t hold still and it is not at clear that humans are equipped to deal with this.

Here are a couple of snippets:

“That radiantly yellow death that hurtled towards her like a sun, I think it was beautiful and terrible like the death we know from the ancient legends.”

“I am very well aware, however, that I am squandering my emotions on things that don’t need them. Stella’s sobbing in the night hadn’t moved me at all, it had only revolted and confused me. The fact that the young cactus had died was a real worry to me.
I love flowers even more than animals, because they are mute, they can’t jump around or disturb me in my fruitless, manic thoughts.”

“At one point everything was fine and orderly, and then someone muddled the threads. I can no longer find the beginning, and the weave under my hands becomes more confused by the day, it grows and burgeons, and one day it will bury and suffocate me.”

[Jordi · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing really was incredible. Every sentence felt purposeful, not a single line or page wasted. So many sentences that really made me pause and re read and think about what Haushofer really said.
Can't wait to get to The Wall.