A haunting story of a childhood in the Austrian countryside from the author of The Wall
The Fifth Year follows a five-year-old girl, Marili, through each season of a single year on her grandparents’ farm in the mountains of Austria. Her grand-mother is a quiet, melancholic woman; her grandfather, with his calm, cheerful disposition, radiates warmth. Marili’s parents have presumably died in the war, and she is left to discover—with curiosity, wonder, and fear—the beauty and darkness of a quiet pastoral life. Sinister elements lurk beneath the surface of The Fifth Year, in Marili’s dreams and fantasies, and this deceptively simple tale of childhood, told in effervescent and evocative prose, bubbles to life in Marlen Haushofer’s inimitably alarming style.
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.
Somewhere in the Austrian mountains, a young girl is growing up with her grandparents. The in-between generation is gone: some lost to illness, some lost to war; it is unclear what, exactly, befell Marili's parents, partly because she is old enough to ask questions but not really old enough to understand the full weight of the world in which she is growing up. Instead we see that Marili's grandparents are still grieving losses—some old, some new—that she can register but not, yet, put into context.
This was Haushofer's first published book, with the original Das fünfte Jahr coming out in 1952. War must have been so present still, in broken buildings but especially in the missing and the dead. "This," says Marili's grandmother, "is where they lie, Hans and Franz and your mother. We don't know anything about Stefan and your father, they're somewhere in Russia." (loc. 472*)
I'm reminded a bit of Heidi, of course (though these grandparents are neither recluses nor grumps), and of Claire Keegan's Foster, though the setting and situation are different. Mostly this is a sweet and charming story, but an undercurrent of darkness runs throughout the story, starting with Marili's fear of the crucified Jesus painting hanging in her room and continuing through the grief her grandparents will so clearly carry for the rest of their lives. (I'm extrapolating, but I got the sense that raising another child is more than they'd bargained for, but also that being able to do so in the face of such loss is one of the things that helps them get up in the morning.)
3.5 stars for a quiet and curious book.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
A sweet and slim little book about a young, animal loving, girl living with her grandparents. A lot like The Summer Book (Tove Jansson) or Foster (Claire Keegan).
A quiet little novella that illustrates the childhood experience beautifully. The innocence, fragility, fleeting nature of growing up and being a young child. Our narrator is only 5 years old, a perspective that is really challenging to write well. The story paints a small picture of postwar Austria as this place that is breathtakingly beautiful yet still tinged with grief and hurt. Our main character Marili is being cared for by her grandparents who adore her and try to create a sense of safety for her. This is a story comprised of seemingly mundane moments characterized by pure innocence with a tinge of sadness. It really reminded me a lot of Tove Jansson’s The Summer Book, which I personally loved.
A quiet, plaintive little tale about a young girl living in her grandparent's farm in the backdrop of the Austrian alps. The girl is five years old and hence the title of the narrative that courses through each season of that single year. This is a story about the innocence of childhood drifting through the beauty and darkness of a quiet pastoral life. The descriptions of nature are evocative and in the author's nuanced prose style succeeds in uniting the natural elements with the girl's inbred consciousness. The Austrian countryside shines through the narrative as well as the sinister elements that lurk beneath the surface which are amply presented in the form of the little girl's dreams and fantasies- this is a beautiful, elegiac tale that closely juxtaposes the brighter and darker reaches of the human consciousness.
La première nouvelle de ce recueil, la plus longue, est un petit bijou et poésie et de délicatesse. Les autres histoires m'ont moins touchée mais n'en restent pas moins de jolis portraits cruels et drôles de la nature humaine.
This was a much different read from The Insufferable Gaucho (I read this right before I started this novel). I can’t say it was a palate cleanser, though. The book grapples with heavy themes — mainly death and the grief that follows (with a hint of post-war poverty) — but they’re buried beneath beautiful prose about Austria’s countryside.
The Fifth Year is told from the perspective of Marili, a five-year-old girl whose parents have died in the war. Her grandparents now care for her, and most of the book takes place on their farm through the lens of Austria’s seasons — beginning and ending in Winter. There is no plot. Instead, Haushofer shows us fragments of time in a world where life has no choice but to go on. And, in those moments, the characters reveal themselves to us.
The strongest parts of the book (for me) come from Marili’s grandmother’s constant ache for her dead children. It’s a single thread you can follow through the narrative. Her children never leave her mind, and this affects the young girl. Marili is so frequently exposed to—then protected from—the subject of death that it begins to show up in her games and haunt her dreams. When Marili crafts dolls from crumpled paper and builds a home out of logs from the stove, she includes her grandmother’s children. In her pretend worlds, they are only in the next room.
At times, she is confronted with death in more concrete terms: the sight of a dead mouse, a painting of Christ on her wall, a graveyard. I thought Haushofer did an excellent job illustrating the way children conceptualize loss, regret, and grief. Sometimes they are just bad dreams you can turn away from for a while.
I liked this book, but I didn’t love it. Only because I usually need more to dig into. The Fifth Year centers on the inner workings of two characters, but there’s no growth, change, or resolution (except in the seasons). If you like novellas that focus on character introspection, inner conflict, and beautiful sentences, then you will appreciate this one. It’s out this May.
“He hangs on the cross for all the bad things you are going to do.”
The Fifth Year by Marlen Haushofer lures you into a suffocating, whimsical world, that can be devoured in a single sitting. The best aspect of this novella was certainly the first half. We meet Marili in the depths of winter, at the beginning of a new year. Her narration is novel, making Haushofer’s unique writing style shine. I really enjoyed reading from Marili’s perspective, and I think Haushofer does a good job of keeping a realistic childlike demeanour. The recurrence of Marili’s guilt throughout was one of my favourite parts, and really struck a cord with me. Most of it had nothing to do with her, and yet she felt it anyway. There was nothing she could do. I remember how helpless that felt. Another theme that stood out to me was her fear of Jesus, and how that paralleled with the picture of her mother. I really enjoyed these little threads Haushofer pulled at and would’ve loved a longer narrative for these things to be fleshed out. There was something magical about the winter quarter that fell flat for me in the rest of the novella. It still entertained and intrigued, just not as atmospheric as I would’ve liked. I also expected it to be a bit more dark. The synopsis describes ‘dark elements’, but I didn’t feel like that was explored, really at all. That being said, that is fully the fault of my own expectations. Overall I enjoyed this, and would recommend it to someone looking for a short, dreamy, read. It worked wonders in getting me out of my reading slump. I’m eager to check out what else Haushofer had under her sleeve.
Originally published in 1951, this novella was the first book by acclaimed Austrian writer Haushofer, and I picked it up without knowing anything about it or what to expect. It's a strange and slightly creepy concoction -- following a 5-year-old girl living with her grandparents in the Austrian mountains across four seasons. It moves between descriptions of the mundane events of her daily life and impressionistic interactions with the flora and fauna around her, from snakes and frogs, to hedgehogs, birds, and the family dog. But these descriptions blend into her dreams sometimes, which are surreally vivid and sometimes sinister. Lurking behind all this is the sorrow of the grandparents, and the fact that her mother and two uncles are dead and her father and another uncle are "somewhere in Russia." It's never explicitly stated, but I'd guess that the title has the double meaning of the girl's age as well as referencing the fifth year of World War II. (The author herself was a young mother to a 5-year-old in the fifth year of the war.) There's no story here, the writing is mostly description and tone, and it makes for an unsettling if ambiguous experience.
I find it funny that the Haushofer book I’m most interested in — The Wall — is still sitting untouched in my TBR, while I’ve already read Killing Stella and now The Fifth Year. And unfortunately, this one didn’t do much for me.
It’s part fever dream, part fairytale, following a five‑year‑old girl living a secluded life with her grandparents in a pre‑technology world. Days are spent outdoors from sunup to sundown, or inside crafting paper families out of old newspapers. Time itself becomes elastic here... slowing to a crawl, then lurching forward without warning. I’m assuming that’s meant to mimic how a child experiences time, but it often left me feeling disoriented rather than immersed.
Overall, I wasn’t impressed. The narrative felt too hazy, the story too shapeless. Read at your own risk.
The Fifth Year is the story of young Marili, who spends her days with her grandparents in the countryside.
Days turn into weeks, seasons change and we stay in Marili’s head, in a constant trance between reality and a dream. She has the kind of vivid imagination only a child can have, so you constantly find yourself wondering if she’s still describing her surroundings, or maybe something she’s dreamed up in her own head.
The entire setting feels cozy and nostalgic, yet though the narration of a child it’s also magical and mysterious.
The prose is truly gorgeous, it reads quickly, you fly through the 80 pages in no time.
I can’t say I found myself consumed by this story, but I still really enjoyed it!
Big thank you to New Directions Publishing for sending me an early copy of this story!!
A short slice of life novella following Marili's life in the Austrian countryside with her grandparents. Life is quiet, but mere existence in a remote place during tough winters sets you against real stakes and the tragedies that haunt a family. This put me in mind of Tove Jansson's The Summer Book. Not real plotty--just the experience of a contained period from a child's perspective and a deep connection to the weather and environment of a place, the feel of the sun on your skin for the first time in young memory.
Haushofer's The Wall has made me eagerly seek out each new English translation, and this 1952 novella does not disappoint.
read this in 2 quick sittings! these are pleasant vignettes about a 5 year old girl living with her grandparents in the austrian countryside. as always, haushofer’s nature writing is the star of the show. grief lurks beneath the surface through the innocent lens of a child who doesn’t quite understand death and war. probably my least favorite haushofer so far - enjoyable but low impact.
thank you to new directions and netgalley for the early access!!
thanks to edelweiss for the drc - I really enjoyed the writing style and the ambiguous ending, but I felt like I was missing something ... maybe this style just isn't for me. if you like plotless but meaningful slice-of-life type stories, this might be for you! and i'll definitely read more Haushofer in the future
A beautiful novella, so glad that they’ve translated this into English. This gave me appreciation for the life that I have, and reminds us to find the beauty in the things that we take for granted. Highly recommend if you were a fan of Foster by Claire Keegan. Thanks to NetGalley and New Directions Books for the e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
My first Haushofer, and it will not be my last. My thanks to New Directions and NetGalley for an eARC of this title, to be published May 5, 2026. While English language publishers showed some interest in Haushofer's work while she was alive (1920-1970, died of bone cancer), she never caught on with English readers. But the 2021 film of her "The Wall" (I've yet to read it, or see the film) generated some new interest. "The Fifth Year" is Haushofer's first published work. A novella from 1952, told from the perspective of a 5 year old girl in Austria. Living with her grandparents in a rural area, because her parents (and their siblings) all have died, mostly in WWII. We go through the four seasons, starting with Winter. The Seasons and her connection to her grandmother and grandfather - two very different personalities - are the two most important influences of her young life. From the POV of the little girl. things (and I do mean "things") become filled with meaning and life. Plants, animals, objects, all have an otherworldliness and a sense of "humanity" about them that is all their own. My favorite section of the slight book (about 90 pp) was Summer. Where she goes down 3 different paths, and describes her feelings about the plants and settings for each one of them. The whole little work reminds me Tove Janson’s "The Summer Book", or the books by Tarjei Vesaas, with their unique view, and feeling, for Nature. Looking forward to reading more by Haushofer; about half her work is translated into English - and a couple of the titles are not inexpensive to purchase. 4.5 out of 5
Gorgeous, well-written, somewhat haunting and ambiguous, and very short work detailing one five-year-old girl, Marili, and one year of her life on her grandparents' farm. 5 stars. Thanks to New Direction and Netgalley for the E-ARC.
This felt like all the confusing and scary parts of young childhood where you are still trying to piece together how life works. What a perfect book to read in spring,,, Short and concise, doesn't have to be anything more than what it is
A simple and mostly sad book following 1 year of the life of a 5-year-old now living with her grandparents. The viewpoint does truly feel like a 5-year-old and we can feel the mysterious loss at the center of her life. What we see is the small child, her love for nature and animals and her keen observations of the changing seasons. Her noticing her grandfather's cheerfulness and her grandma's sweetness tinged with great amounts of regret. An evocative little portrait of a life.