أشياء تختفي

by Jenny Erpenbeck

"كنت في الصف الثالث عندما افتتح قصر الجمهورية في ألمانيا الديمقراطية. رفعت معلمة صفي (الآنسة كيز) في يدها مظروفاً أنيقاً يحمل صورة للقصر الجديد، وشرحت لنا المقصود بطوابع البريد التذكارية التي كانت تصدر في اليوم الأول بمناسبة افتتاح هيئة ما. لم ألتفت آنذاك إلى أن مصطلح إصدار اليوم الأول يحتوي على نفس عدد مقاطع مصطلح ذبابة اليوم الواحد المعروفة بذبابة مايو، حتى أن كلمة يوم موجودة في الحالتين. وقالت لنا (الآنسة كيز) أن كل منا سوف يحصل علي مظروف مشابه وأنه يجب علينا أن نحافظ عليه جيداً لأنه يوما ما فيما بعد سنشعر بالفخر لأننا كنا هناك عندما افتتح القصر الجديد.بعد حصولنا علي الأظرف من الآنسة كيز قام فصلنا برحلة الي قصر الشعب الذي افتتح حديثا.

في ذلك الوقت كنت لا أزال أرغب في دراسة علم الآثار للعمل بمجال التنقيب عن القصور القديمة، لذا أعجبتني أنواع المرمر المختلفة الكائنة بالطابق السفلي للقصر بجانب خزانة تعليق المعاطف، أما في الأعلي، في معرض الصور فكان كل شئ مفروشا بالسجاد، كما تدلت من السقف مصابيح تشبه فقاعات الهواء مما يوحي للمرء بأنه تحت الماء. تلك المصابيح من إنتاج المصنع الذي كانت عمتي زيجريد تعمل فيه. كان ذلك المصنع ينتج أيضا أدوات المائدة الموجودة في مقهى القصر والملاعق التي كنت بعد ذلك في حياتي أقلب بها مشروب الكاكاو ثم بعد ذلك القهوة والسكاكين والشوك التي كنت أقطع بها اللحم في الحانة التي كان يصطحبني إليها أول صديق لي. في قصر الجمهورية انحشرإصبعي ذات مرة بين كرتين أثناء لعب البولينج. ومرة قررت أن أصبح عازفة بيانو وذلك في المسرح الكائن في الدور الرابع عقب حفل بيانو لإحدي العازفات المشهورات، وكم أسندت ظهري إلى الكراسي الحديدية الثقيلة الموجودة في حانة القصر كي أستريح وأرقب المشهد المطل علي نهر الشبريه.

وبعد سنوات كثيرة وعندما أخذت علامات التدهور تظهر على القصر شيئاً فشيء أخفيت إحدى الملاعق المصنوعة في المصنع التي تعمل به عمتي في جيبي علي سبيل الاحتياط لتذكّرني بقصر الجمهورية. قبل ثلاثة أيام عندما كنت أمر بالقصر استطعت أن أنظر عبر جدرانه، وقد تم هدم أجزاء منها. لأسباب فنية بدأت عملية الهدم من المنتصف حتي أن الأجزاء التي كانت لاتزال قائمة أضحت تحيط بالمنتصف الذي صار الآن خواءا تاماً. جالت الآنسة كيز بخاطري وتسائلت هل أصبحت تطلق على نفسها سيدة حتي وإن لم تكن في عصمة رجل حتى الآن؟"

Genres: Essays, Nonfiction, Memoir, German Literature, Short Stories, Germany, Literature

158 pages, Paperback

First published September 21, 2009

About the author

Jenny Erpenbeck (born 12 March 1967 in East Berlin) is a German director and writer.

Jenny Erpenbeck is the daughter of the physicist, philosopher and writer John Erpenbeck and the Arabic translator Doris Kilias. Her grandparents are the authors Fritz Erpenbeck and Hedda Zinner. In Berlin she attended an Advanced High School, where she graduated in 1985. She then completed a two-year apprenticeship as a bookbinder before working at several theaters as props and wardrobe supervisor.

From 1988 to 1990 Erpenbeck studied theatre at the Humboldt University of Berlin. In 1990 she changed her studies to Music Theater Director (studying with, among others, Ruth Berghaus, Heiner Müller and Peter Konwitschny) at the Hanns Eisler Music Conservatory. After the successful completion of her studies in 1994 (with a production of Béla Bartók's opera Duke Bluebeard's Castle in her parish church and in the Kunsthaus Tacheles, she spent some time at first as an assistant director at the opera house in Graz, where in 1997 she did her own productions of Schoenberg's Erwartung, Bartók's Duke Bluebeard's Castle and a world premiere of her own piece Cats Have Seven Lives. As a freelance director, she directed in 1998 different opera houses in Germany and Austria, including Monteverdi's L'Orfeo in Aachen, Acis and Galatea at the Berlin State Opera and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Zaide in Nuremberg/Erlangen.

In the 1990s Erpenbeck started a writing career in addition to her directing. She is author of narrative prose and plays: in 1999, History of the Old Child, her debut; in 2001, her collection of stories Trinkets; in 2004, the novella Dictionary; and in February 2008, the novel Visitation. In March 2007, Erpenbeck took over a biweekly column by Nicole Krauss in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung.

Erpenbeck lives in Berlin with her son, born 2002.

Reviews

[Helga · Rating 4 out of 5]

Things disappear when they are deprived of their means of existence, as if they, too, have a hunger that must be satisfied.

This meditative memoir is a collection of moments, feelings and memories. It is a personal history about the past and the things which disappear as time goes by.

[Karen· · Rating 4 out of 5]

I never cease to be astonished at people's ability to stare into space for hours and hours. How do they do it? Do they have greater inner resources than I do? Because rather than fidget and sigh, mutter and moan, or stoically sit, I take out my bag book. I have a perfectly normal shoulder bag, nothing capacious, just big enough to hold the essentials: wallet, paper hankies, pen, iPod, keys - and a paperback. Something not too fat and heavy, something that won't take umbrage if you pick it up here and there and then put away again for a month or so. This fits that bill perfectly. Thirty one miniatures of Things That Disappear. Buildings in Berlin; gaps between buildings in Berlin; words; memories; the simple life; the Warsaw Ghetto; socks (and cheese); courtesy; coal and coal-fired stoves; your youth; the auth....

It would have been perfect for those times when you arrive at the Post Office to find the queue winding back through the doors. For the times when you're stuck in tailback traffic at roadworks. Waiting for that friend in a café. Not quite so perfect, though, when you go for an x-ray on the day that the newbie has just started her job. Because although the pieces here are delightful, and funny, and moving, and diverse, and entertaining, although Erpenbeck can ring all the changes, it's only 94 pages and they don't last as long as it takes for said newbie to take pictures of the ten people who were already there when you arrived and the four who actually arrived AFTER you - it's OK, she was trying to get people processed as fast as possible, and she could tick off the chest x-rays more easily, she could do them herself. But she'd obviously never had to do a coccyx before, so I had to wait until the lady doing the CT had time to pop over to the x-ray room. I was there for two and a half hours. That's fine, I did a crossword and had a couple of games of Capitals and read a bit of Chekhov and did some practice with Italian irregular verb forms until the battery on my iPod ran down.

And then I looked at my fellow sufferers in the waiting room. And wondered how they managed. To just sit there for two and a half hours.

[نوري · Rating 3 out of 5]

ثلاثون قصة قصيرة في 90 صفحة، تناولتها اليوم أثناء مشوار خفيف وعاجل وقرأت معظمها في الطريق، لا تحتاج معها إلى كثير من التركيز، تدور القصص في فلك الأشياء القديمة وعلاقتها باليوم وكيف تغيرت أحوالنا وتغير علاقتنا بالأشياء. هناك بعض المشاكل بالترجمة وهي غير مؤثرة وبعض الأخطاء المطبعية السخيفة ولكن ستتدبر حالك كقارئ ولن تعيقك.

[ضحى صلاح · Rating 3 out of 5]

الكثير من الأخطاء اللغوية والإملائية والكتابية، إذا تجنبنا الطباعة السيئة الباهتة في صفحات، والتي لم أستطع فك طلاسمها في صفحات أخرى في كتاب لم يتجاوز الـ 100 صفحة!
تجربة سيئة مع دار صفصافة! على كلٍ لنتحدث عن "ترجمة الرواية القصيرة" وهي رواية شارك في ترجمتها عدد من طلاب كلية الألسن، فجاءت غريبة قليلًا، وفقدت روحها، رُبما سأعود لقراءة الرواية بالإنجليزية فإنها تستحق رُغم كل ما ذكرته.

جاءت الرواية ثقيلة، كتجربة أولى مع كاتبة ألمانية "جيني إيربينبيك"، في 95 صفحة سردت الكاتبة قصتها مع "الاختفاء" من هدم حضانة طفلها وتوديعه لشجرته المفضلة، للتأثيرات الروسية على الفتيات الألمانيات، تراجع كل شيء وانسحابه كالأخطبوط يسحب جميع أذرعه خلفه.
كل الأشياء كانت اختفت من عالم البطلة، قطعة الجبن الغالية التي اشترتها، جواربها، اختفاء الأشياء داخل حاويات إعادة التدوير، اختفاء الأشياء الثمينة "كخزانة أثرية"، تتساءل الكاتبة حول ماهية الجمال، وأين يذهب التاريخ والجمال عندما يتم إعادة تدوير تلك الأشياء الجميلة الأثرية، هل يصبح ذلك الجمال خفيفًا يتصاعد إلى السماء كالأرواح أم أين يذهب؟
إنها رواية عن معادلة الجمال والقبح، تحول الأشياء القيمة إلى أخرى لا معنى لها "الإحلال القبيح".
صراع الشخصية الألمانية، اختفاء اللطف، ميل البشر للانعزال رغم انتهاء حالة الحرب، ففي حالة الحرب كل شخص كان يهتم بنفسه فقط، محاولة توفير احتياجاته الأساسية، الجميع كان يتفهم هذا في وقت الحرب، نستطيع أن نتزاحم على الخبز في حالة الحرب وهذا منطقي، لكن حالة الحرب انتهت ليس هناك أي داعٍ للتزاحم على الخبز، معاملة الآخرين بجفاء، عدم الاعتذار عندما نخطئ، كل هذا عانت منه الكاتبة.
اقتباس: تختفي الأشياء عندما تُسلب منها وظيفتها.
اقتباس آخر: باختفاء الشيء يختفي التفكير فيه، والأفكار المتعلقة به، تختفي الفكرة إذا ما كان ذلك الشيء معبرًا عن ثراء أم فقر.

لقد توقفت الراوية أو البطلة عن تبادل هدايا الميلاد، حتى أغاني الميلاد المميزة تبدلت لأخرى جديدة غير مميزة.
اقتباس: اكتشفت لأول مرة أن كلمة اختفاء جوهر فعال، فهناك من يجلس بداخل هذه الكلمة، يعمل على إخفاء الأشياء التي أعرفها وأقدرها، يقضي عليها، يُخربها، يلعنها، يختلسها، يطردها، يفسدها.

كانت البطلة تنتقل بين الأماكن، تجمع جميع أشيائها، لا تترك أثرًا ورائها، لكن رُغم حرصها الدائم على حزم كل شيء إلا أن الأشياء لم تتوقف عن الاختفاء!

اختفاء الشباب، ظهور بقع تقدم السن، الوهن، المرض، الشيخوخة، اختفاء الأصدقاء وموتهم واحدًا تلو الآخر.

اقتباس: حياتنا تطول على نحو يفوق طاقتنا على تحمل الشيخوخة.

إن اختفاء المؤلف يعني موته أيضًا، المؤلفة رُبما تنعني نفسها، تنعي كل الأشياء التي أفسدها الذوق الحديث، اختفاء الفوازير القديمة وإتاحة كل المعلومات على الإنترنت، تلك البهجة اختفت مع التطور.
كنت أرجو أن تقدم الرواية بشكل مختلف يليق حقًا بها وبفكرتها، لكن على كل حال أنا ممتنة لقراءتها حتى مع كل تلك العيوب.

[victoria marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

That although the disappearance has entered my body against my will, in retrospect it can be seen as nourishment, at least until I have had my fill. (24)

*

In any case, disappearance is surely no less powerful than love, but it remains astonishing that thin air can sometimes have just as much weight as something that is really there. (32)

*

For the first time, it strikes me that the word disappear has something active at its core, that there is a perpetrator in the word who makes things that I know and cherish disappear: Dismantle, discard, disband, disparage, discredit, disembowel, disuse. And the one who has all this on his conscience has also made my Splitterbrötchen disappear, he has disappeared it, he has taken something that I knew well, something that I loved to eat, and locked it out of all the bakeries (except two in Berlin-Mitte), he has driven it out, and now he's waiting until my memory of what a Splitterbrötchen should actually taste and look like has DISsipated and DISsolved. (58)

*

at first I was a bit wary about what I had gotten myself into, but then couldn’t get enough. my only criticism is that there needs to be MORE (or does there‽ since focused on disappearing things‽)

maybe more of a 4 star read for me, but bumping up as it hit hard in personal (& collective) ways… & might revisit this slim book, when ready (or not)…

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this tiny collection around the same time that I read Gospodinov’s Death and the Gardener and Tripier’s Our Precious Wars, both books that deal with loss and reflect, in their own way, on the memories of days gone by, the hazy remnants of which haunt the minds of the living, the gatekeepers who feel responsible for ensuring these glory days survive the relentless passing of time. All of that to say that Things That Disappear came to me at the right time, a time where I was able to read it in conversation with these other works and thus its message was made all the more impactful.

Erpenbeck’s short series of essays document a series of losses, personal, cultural, and societal. Of buildings erected in her youth and demolished decades later, of a favorite pastry turned unrecognizable in the hands of modern bakers looking to be creative, of household gadgets whose functions are rendered obsolete in the face of new inventions.

Its power is in its simplicity, its ability to evoke in the reader a universal sense of loss, even if it’s a loss they may never have personally experienced. It’s the kind of loss that you may not notice right away, that takes several years before you look around and realize just how much is changed.

A perfect book to spend the afternoon with.

[Regan]

How does one go about demolishing a house? Where have our missing second socks ended up? . . . What about entire nations that have ceased to exist—where are they? Or, our family’s traditions when we no longer celebrate them? On youth, Erpenbeck writes, “. . . we’re taken by surprise when the years have slipped over us like a dress, and we think that actually, if we wanted to, we could take them off again. . .” We disappear from the places we’ve inhabited; the people we love disappear from us. In Kurt Beals’s delicate translation, Erpenbeck’s prose is compellingly earnest and solemn, and quite playful in moments, without ever straying toward over-sentimentality.

Full review on the Asymptote blog: https://www.asymptotejournal.com/blog...

[Rita Egan · Rating 4 out of 5]

In all the novels I've read by Erpenbeck, her stories are laced with themes of time and time's effect on people, on places, on reality and expectation.

This slim volume in which she ponders the concepts of loss and removal, disappearance and appearance, time and it's concepts still underscore each vignette.

" but it remains astonishing that thin air can sometimes have just as much weight as something that is really there" speaks of absence

"We are only guests on earth" speaks of transcience

Chapter XVIII Houses speaks of the impermanence of lives and property versus the permanence of place

Of flying with the sun: "you could just as well say that we're hovering in the air at a speed of 905 kph, just letting the earth spin down below us until the city we're heading for eventually arrives"

Of obsolete objects: "Things disappear when they are deprived of their means of existence"

"whenever a thing disappears from everyday life, much more has disappeared than the thing itself"

She writes of the "floating landscape of time" as one well versed in the sudden all-change of life when her eastern Berlin world bring immediate and all encompassing change, as convincingly as she muses the slow, incremental loses and changes of our world moving on.

The tone changes from chapter to chapter from frustration to nostalgia, from bewilderment to pining, but there's a nugget of poignancy in each one.

I usually recommend leaving time between each chapter in collections such as these, but there's a through line here that might be too delicate to break. Less than 2 hours in total, it's easily a one sitting read.

[Briana · Rating 4 out of 5]

buildings, friends, socks

[K · Rating 5 out of 5]

“There’s so much to inherit these days, so many memories, it’s just too much to bear. We’ve been at peace for so long here that everything we have is cheap, but emptiness will soon be priceless.”

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

This slender collection of biographical vignettes is imbued with a melancholy sensibility that comes with living in a post-industrial state, worsened in tone from also being a former Soviet republic—East Germany—the promises of whose ideologies were incapable of providing its citizens with a decent standard of living, however one wants to define the term. Politics aside, there is the life once lived in a community, a community as prone to the vicissitudes of historical forces as any other, and the things, places, people, and events that shaped a social and personal life: nursery school, knickknacks from a former regime, cheese and socks, “drip catchers,” friends, and more.

Terse not elliptic, the narrative temperament of Erpenbeck’s nonfiction prose (beautifully rendered into English by Kurt Beals) has, like her fiction, a wry sense of loss not quite convinced of the improved state of being that was to come with progressive change.

For more of my reviews, please see https://www.thebookbeat.com/backroom/...

[Kirsten · Rating 4 out of 5]

Die Autorin Jenny Erpenbeck nimmt uns mit auf eine Reise durch ihre Erinnerungen. Erinnerungen an Dinge, die es nicht mehr gibt. Ob es der Palast der Republik ist, bei dem sie sich an die Eröffnung und an den Abriss erinnern kann, an den Kindergarten, der aus finanziellen Gründen nicht mehr renoviert wurde und die Kinder aus der gewohnten und geliebten Umgebung gerissen wurden oder an ganz banale Dinge wie die Socken, die auf unerklärliche Weise immer wieder in ihrer Wohnung verschwinden... diese Dinge bringen sie zum Nachdenken. An jedem von ihnen hängt eine kleine oder größere Anekdote aus ihrem Leben. Sie stellt fest, dass zwar Dinge verschwinden können, aber nicht die Erinnerung daran.

Aber was passiert mit den Erinnerungen an Menschen? Bleiben sie immer gleich oder verändern sie sich über die Jahre, gerade weil diese Erinnerungen auch immer mit den Gefühlen der jeweiligen Person gegenüber verbunden sind. Wie erinnern wir uns an jemand im Lauf der Zeit?

Die Geschichten sind je nachdem, was verschwunden ist humorvoll oder nachdenklich, ironisch oder auch ein bisschen spitzzüngig. Was sie aber auch sind: sie sind sehr persönlich und erzählen mir auch viel über die Erzählerin. Das Buch ist sicherlich keine Biografie, aber ein interessanter Ausschnitt.

[Federica G · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn't think I would enjoy this short collection of stories about things, after reading Erpenbeck's most prominent novels (Heimsuchung/Visitation, Aller Tage Abend/The end of days, Gehen, ging, gegangen). But I was constantly surprised when reading this short book, because Erpenbeck is so unpredictable in her storytelling that even when she writes about bread, she can make you feel a sense of oblivion and forgetfulness. Highly recommend it.

[Curious84 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Typisch Erpenbecker Stil! Ich mag ihn einfach!! Alles vergeht...Man soll sich damit abfinden...Jeder auf seine eigene Weise!

[Dorle Schmidt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Großartiges Büchlein mit einer sprachlich abwechslungsreichen und virtuosen Sammlung an kurzen Texten zu einer Vielzahl von zum Titel passenden Phänomenen!
Es ist geistreich und witzig und manchmal auch bittersüß wie das Leben, gleichzeitig überzeitlich und doch historisch konkret durch die Lebenserfahrung der Autorin, als 1967 in Ost-Berlin geborene.

S.64: „Die Dinge verschwinden, wenn ihnen die Existenzgrundlage entzogen wird, so als hätten auch sie einen Hunger, der gestillt werden muss.“

[Clara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ein kurzes Brainstorming mit kleinen Gedanken-Portionen zu Dingen, die verschwinden. Blicke auf Berlin, philosophische Annäherungen zum Verschwinden und humorvolle Anekdoten. Dem Thema geschuldet rutscht es aber oft sehr ins Nostalgische.

[Jake · Rating 3 out of 5]

strong 3.5 - really well written and translated but fewer sticky, “stays with you” passages than i had hoped for going in

[Ulrike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Short, bittersweet and just beautiful

[Renate · Rating 4 out of 5]

Short little essays, meditations about time passing, vanishing things, places and people. Feels more like reading poetry, than prose. Wistful, melancholic, profound.

Irgendwann mitten in der Zeit knallt es dann, und das Jahr, das ein Jahr lang Gegenwart genannt wurde, verschwindet aus dieser Gegenwart und verwandelt sich von einer Sekunde auf die andere in Vergangenheit.

The sad universal truth: obsolescence is built into everything. Time passes.

Erpenbeck focuses on the mundane - the everyday things that were always just there, until one day they’re not. Often you don’t even notice the absence immediately. Often something more has been lost, something more intangible.

Ebenso ist immer, wenn ein Ding aus dem Alltag verschwindet, viel mehr verschwunden, als das Ding selbst – das dazugehörige Denken ist dann verschwunden, und das Fühlen, das, was sich gehört oder nicht gehört, das, wofür man Geld hat, und das, wofür man zu arm ist.

People, places, cultures — all change, sometimes vanish entirely. Erpenbeck was born in East Berlin. She has seen a world dissolve and another rise in its place. The Wall came down. In its place tall buildings rose. A view of the sunset from a certain window was lost.

Without ever mentioning the word ‘forget’, she describes the Warsaw Ghetto, in a city that has moved on. The focus is on the unimportant detail of those living there today. It enhances the impact of the devastating human tragedy that once unfolded there.

Große Bäume gibt es in Warschau nur da, wo das Ghetto nicht war. Und auf dem jüdischen Friedhof.

I picked up this little book on impulse at the surprisingly well stocked station bookshop in Trier, after missing a connection and having time to wait. A serendipitous find. Now I understand why Jenny Erpenbeck is so highly regarded.

[Tawfek · Rating 2 out of 5]

الكتاب عبارة عن مزيج قصص قصيرة و خواطر و قصص مقالية
انا بحثت في الموضوع كتير و سالت ناس اصحابي لاني كنت محتار جدًا في تصنيف اللي بقراه علي غلاف الكتاب مكتوب رواية بس مستحيل تكون رواية
الصفحة اللي بعد الغلاف مكتوب قصص قصيرة بس برضه دي مش كلها قصص قصيرة
الكاتب بتدلنا فرصة نخش جوه دماغها بس المشكلة ان دماغها مختلفة تمامًا عننا مفيش شئ مشترك بينا الحاجات اللي هي بتتامل فيها
حسيتها بعيده قوي عني شخصيًا و لذلك لم يروقني الكتاب كثيرًا
تقييمي للكتاب 2/5
تقييمي للترجمة التي قام بها طلاب السن 3/5 جهدكم مشكور جدًا انكم تترجموا كتاب لكاتبه المانية مهمة
تقييمي للدار ممكن نقول بين 2 او 3 /5
لان الكتاب فيه اخطاء املائية كتير غير ان فيه صفحة و نص مكررين
بس مش معني كده اني مستفدتش من الكتاب دايمًا هتستفاد من اي كتاب تقراه علي راي العقاد و انا بوافقه فيه تمامًا
دايمًا هنتعلم حاجه
و انا اتعلمت نواحي كتير من الحياة في المانيا و بعض الحاجات اللي خلتهم متقدمين عننا
دخلت جوه عقل كاتبة و ام و عرفت مخاوفها و تؤملاتها
صحيح انا اصبت بالملل كثيرًا اثناء قرائتي لهذا الكتاب و لكن القراءة دائمًا الملاذ و مفيش كتاب هيقفلنا عن القراءة حتي لو خد نجمة واحده

[Claudia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Had me teary eyed by page 11, and crying on the train by page 13.

Went into this with zero expectations, because I just picked it up for a shorter train ride, as I didn't enjoy the books much that I'm currently reading. But this was such a surprisingly moving read for me.
Will definitely give her other books a try now.

[Ivy-Mabel Fling · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jenny Erpenbeck has the ability to find novel ways of looking at ordinary things. Her books are always a pleasure to read.

[ay]

Uncorrected proof. Review incoming

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

“There's very little that I can touch, see, and hear with my memory anymore. The thoughts of someone who no longer exists can be translated into my thoughts, and the actions of that person into my actions, but the tangible part of those memories will probably fall to pieces sooner or later. When reality no longer grows back, it will become a skeleton, individual bones with a great deal of soil in between. Recently, it's often happened that I find myself sitting across from someone who's still perfectly alive, yet looking at him as if he had already disappeared.
At those moments, half hopeful, half ashamed, I pick out single frames of the film while it's still running, as if I could select my memories in advance and learn them by heart, so that I could be sure to recall them later. As for myself, I've already considered whether anyone will remember the way I blow my nose, or the way I watch a boxing match on TV, or my knees.”

[Karima · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unspektakuläres aber doch kraftvolles Buch, das sich entgegen meiner Erwartung liebevoll in meiner Erinnerung festgebissen hat. Zu meinem eigenen Leiden, war ich schon immer besessen von der Vergänglichkeit von Dingen, was, gepaart mit meinem Hang zu Melancholie, nicht unbedingt zu einer Milderung meiner emotionalen Zustände geführt hat. In diesem Buch fühle ich mich sehr gesehen und motiviert, auf eine spielerische Art und Weise auf spezifische Dinge zu blicken, die nicht mehr da sind oder vielleicht besser gesagt, eine andere Form angenommen haben.

(Nachts am Flughafen in Amsterdam fertig gelesen)

[Eric · Rating 4 out of 5]

“In any case, disappearance is surely no less powerful than love, but it remains astonishing that thin air can sometimes have just as much weight as something that is really there.” (p.32)

Thus ends one of the 32 short works by Jenny Erpenbeck in Things That Disappear, which on its back cover is categorized as “ESSAYS” but really feels like 32 short (almost all 2-3 pages apiece) interludes centering in some way around the idea of disappearance. Sometimes obvious and others less so, this is a fascinating read to see Erpenbeck experiment with a singular topic in a variety of different ways. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by Erpenbeck thus far, and this one continues in that tradition.

[Luke Pete · Rating 4 out of 5]

(ARC) Excellent little micromoments of loss. Concepts of fleeting youth and moments of little to-dos that get in the way of grand ideas of reshaping your life have been touched on before, but never (to my reading experience) with such brevity, applicability, grace, and control. ANOTHER great tiny European novel.

[Shelley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting little vignettes about where items are thrown away and turned back into their base materials, outhouses, Christmas presents snd other eclectic topics. All centered around disappearing/ emptiness/ death vs what it means to appear or be alive / present. I really enjoyed the writing, the humor, the unusual settings and anecdotes. Would read again!

[Kasia Hope · Rating 4 out of 5]

A quick yet in-depth read. Although Erpenbeck is reflecting on a different time, the atmosphere felt nostalgic from my own experiences of living in Berlin, as well as through the similarities between the author's East Berlin and my family's memories of communist Poland. Each story is a glimpse into a memory, a world that no longer exists in the same way.

[Annika · Rating 2 out of 5]

Die Idee des Buches finde ich extrem spannend, aber leider haben mich nur sehr wenige Texte im Buch mitgenommen. Ich befürchte "Heimsuchung" war eine Ausnahme und ansonsten ist Erpenbecks Stil einfach nichts für mich...