He prowls alongside me, without a glance, without a word, without a sound. He doesn't say a thing. He has no intention of saying anything, or he would have done so by now. He's on the right, I'm on the left; an invisible wall hangs between us. What more could there be to say now? You're no help, you're a fucking burden to me, Dad. You could have helped me, but you didn't. You didn't tell me Karl was dying. But you know everything. You knew and you didn't tell me. This is how you punish me for never wanting to see you again. It's easy for a spy like you, obtaining information and deliberately withholding it, as soon as you're deprived of something. But I'm not your go-between, Dad, you have to get it into your head: you're not my commanding officer.
Marzahn, mon amour (2022), translated by Jo Heinrich from Katja Oskamp's 2019 original was winner of the prestiguous 2023 Dublin Literary Award, and shortlised for the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation and the Society of Authors TA First Translation Prize.
Half Swimmer is a 2024 translation also by Heinrich of Oskamp's debut novel Halbschwimmer from 2003.
This is the first person story of Tanja, a young woman growing up in East Germany, the tale of her life either side of the fall of the Berlin Wall, told in vignettes over the years. These centre on the relationship with her father, a military intelligence officer, her first love affair with an actor 20 years her senior, and her marriage to a conductor.
I wasn't the biggest fan of Marzahn, mon amour, due to the literary simplicity of the stories, but I could appreciate the way the stories, told to a chiropodist, cohered to give a fascinating picture of a community, and the charm with which they were told. This book has a rather narrower perspective, and lacks the charm - and, much as I'd like to say otherwise - was disappointing. 2.5 stars.