Ackermann

by Nicolette Polek

A young woman investigates the disappearance of her beloved piano teacher in the snowy Carpathian mountains.

Exploring love and grief, synthetic biology, music and divinity, Ackermann is a dreamlike literary suspense for readers of Donna Tartt, Fleur Jaeggy, and Marilynne Robinson.

Sasha, a dental assistant in a Carpathian mountain town, has fallen in love with her piano teacher, Ackermann. After seven years of lessons, she thinks she knows him well: his preference for whitefish and duck, his work as an environmental columnist, his place in the yellow chair by the fireplace while she plays. Until one day when, at the appointed time, his chair remains empty, and Ackermann is found shot dead beneath the snow. On Sasha’s search for answers, she becomes entangled with a detective, an ice fisherman, a employee of a new biotech lab in the salt mines, and a pastor at the local church, where she discovers Ackermann’s final obsession for a Russian composer’s unfinished work—one which, once performed, would bring about the end of the world and raise humanity to a new state of consciousness. Ackermann is a thrilling exploration of forgiveness, corruption, and the possibility for transcendence.

Genres: Mystery

192 pages, Hardcover

Expected publication February 23, 2027

About the author

Nicolette Polek is the author of Bitter Water Opera, Imaginary Museums, and the forthcoming novel, Ackermann. Her poems, essays, and stories have appeared in The Atlantic, The Paris Review, Harper's, Granta, and elsewhere. She's taught at Sarah Lawrence College, Bennington College, and SUNY Purchase.

Reviews

[Karla Deniss · Rating 5 out of 5]

I finished reading Ackermann a few weeks ago, but I needed time to think about what I wanted to say about it. I messaged Nicolette on Instagram when she first posted about it (we don’t know each other, I simply followed her after reading her first book to keep an eye on her upcoming work). I said I was excited since I had enjoyed Bitter Water Opera and mentioned I would request an ARC. She answered a few days later, just when I had gotten the copy approved and was sitting at a café after work, reading the first chapter. I thought it was a nice coincidence, and I liked that the day was cold and overcast, as if the weather, too, wanted me to read this book. And before I noticed, I had read a third of the novel, unable to stop while I drank my coffee and listened to piano pieces.

Shostakovich sounded like a cat taking a bath in the kitchen sink; Debussy was a moth getting married; Kabelevsky was a grandfather in a pickup truck, covered in manure. Sasha played the opening to Balakirev’s Sonata No. 2, which the three of them concluded sounded like people becoming cells of a mystical body that wrapped around the world, and Sasha, visited by what felt like white fire, was unable to stop laughing with delight.

What is this book about? I could say… music, desire, grief, nature. So perhaps I should just say it’s about God and some of his creations. About the different ways in which God makes himself present to us, the gifts He gives us. This is, on the surface, a very quiet book. Set in a Carpathian mountain town, we follow Sasha, a woman who finds herself increasingly worried about her piano teacher after he misses one of their lessons. She goes around town meeting different people: coworkers she doesn’t really like, patients from the dental office where she works, a sister who has battled cancer, a childhood friend, a mysterious new guy, always looking for Ackermann. But most of her time is spent alone, contemplating. She contemplates her own life and those around her, and she has contemplated Ackermann for years.

When considering his goodness, Sasha sometimes felt like drowning herself in the bath.

Does contemplating help us understand the nature of things? Does Sasha’s devotion to her piano teacher, to her sister, to God, deepen her knowledge of these things, these relationships? Or has this contemplative existence turned her life into a frozen sculpture that can only survive in the coldness of solitude, away from the warmth of real relationships? Like classically trained musicians who have an ear for isolating sound, Sasha has spent a good part of her life isolating herself, keeping everyone, even her sister, at a distance. The people closest to her are only so because they knew her as a child, but as an adult, her only relationship seems to be the one she has with Ackermann, one that only exists during the time one of their lessons lasts. So it makes sense that when he disappears, Sasha has her life altered in a way that she can’t cope with.

For years, there had been a gradually expanding shadow in her heart. She had been battling it with the piano, but with that came an inadvertent association with Ackermann. It wasn’t him that she loved, Sasha reasoned, but what he pointed her to. (...) this increasingly became indistinguishable. The more she allowed herself to think of Ackermann, the weaker the wall between him and the piano became.

With Ackermann gone, Sasha’s behavior becomes erratic. The book turns into a dreamy mystery, but solving it is kind of irrelevant. I never really felt like I wanted to know what really happened, and I didn’t think I would get any answers. I was focused on the candlelight, St. Brigid’s coat, music notes, the salt mines. I was praying and I was listening to God.

God was a song, her life and His influence as separate notes sounding simultaneously, everywhere and unbound to a marked space, whereas evil was like an image, in which it vied with Sasha over the same frame, one always at the risk of being overtaken by the other.

[Chantel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Daily life is wrought with mystery. From the disappearing sock, the odd number of utensils, the increasing pile of reusable bags, & fruit flies that appear as though they have newly signed a lease, the world of human experience is a series of confusing & obviously simplistic occurrences. In fiction, as within life, certain experiences may leave one troubled or perturbed, questioning that which seems to be taking place in a revolving fashion—a narrative that excludes one’s agency to advocate or change.

The particularities of the woven world at times reflect tedious experiences, yet they also engage narrative structures in fascinating formats. The reader who has ventured to the mounds of snow & slush, the ice & frost, the familiar landscape of their imagination, will see a cast of characters wander around a death as though it were natural to be shot by a hand one has previously held.

I had the opportunity to read this book far ahead of its publication date. As I write this essay, the land of my home is fresh with a cooling breeze, flowing away the drenching & overwhelming humidity of summer. The possibility to transport myself through a fictional account of mystery & the unknown of a different milieu within which winter had calmly laid the land to rest appealed to me greatly. In tandem, I found the synopsis intriguing. Veteran readers may surely have come to the tall tales of stories they have yet to read & had the expertise of their perspectives to grant them the insight they required to judge the cover. The art of this story did not catch my eye, but the premise left me curious enough about the grey tones & undercurrent of sepia to wander within, eyes wide open to what I might find.

In essence, this is a story about intimacy. The main character, Sasha, is introduced to the reader on the eve of a confusing time in her life. Having spent seven years with her piano teacher, Ackermann, Sasha has grown worried; he has not shown up for their weekly meeting. Sasha’s worry manifests into a more complex emotion. Nearing paranoia about why Ackermann would have abandoned her & their piano lessons, Sasha begins going over the details of their relationship. To her, their exchanges have teetered on the edge of romantic. Indeed, Sasha had begun an infatuation with Ackermann due to the consistency of his presence & the intricacy of the time they spent huddled over the piano keys.

The reader comes to learn that Sasha had imagined their intimacy; rather, she had developed such fond feelings for Ackermann that she had somehow ignored the more dynamic truth: he was in love with her sister. The story follows Sasha as she goes to work as a Dental Hygienist, meets with old friends who have secretly been in love with her, & exchanges pleasantries with her sister about the evolution of their sibling relationship.

What the reader soon learns is that Sasha is disenfranchised from her own life. Her emotional state is fragile; never having recovered from the death of her mother & her father’s decision to move away & begin a new family, Sasha wanders the days of her own life, uncomfortable with the tide that she cannot swim.

I was immediately involved in the narrative. Sasha’s character is one that readers will have no struggle in viewing as a real entity, one who has nestled outside of the words on the page to share her tedium of thoughts with them. This being said, Sasha is a person vulnerable to her own flaws. This is not a negative expression of the story as a whole, but rather something which the reader should be aware of.

The disappearance of Ackermann brings Sasha to the extremes of her comfort. Rather than approach a situation with calm calculation, Sasha calls her sister repeatedly to unburden her with her worries. There is seldom a moment in which Sasha is able to approach a situation with a level head. For this reason, the narrative is given weight, transforming from a simple misunderstanding into the murder of the man at the helm.

Most interestingly, none of the people in Sasha’s life feel the need to be honest with her. When Sasha realizes that Ackermann has not kept their meeting time, she seeks out the understanding of those with whom she is closest. Yet, in each instance, these conversations hold a tinge of sourness, something akin to distrust towards Sasha.

The reader may find themselves capable of judging Sasha’s person; dissecting her quirks for brain waves that become something more than a person who is obsessive or miscalculates social signals. Regardless of a formal diagnosis or perhaps regardless of a lack of scientific terms, Sasha seemingly represents the ways in which one can become consumed with a single train of thought, in the process misunderstanding the obvious. This may not be entirely factual; in fact, due to the actions of others, Sasha is rarely put in a position in which she would be faced with the underbelly of her circumstances.

I began to find it odd how the secondary characters drove Sasha forward. Sasha’s sister is described as being very accomplished & exudes a level of disconnect that may be attractive to those whose hands cannot relinquish their hold on the spinning wheel. However, she is also dauntingly unemotional, lending Sasha her home when it suits her to tell her that her mind is ravaged by thoughts that do not matter, or rather, by questions that do not interest one to address & answer. I would not want to make it seem as though Sasha’s sister were cruel; I perceive her rather as the polar opposite of Sasha, who veers too closely toward a warmth that melts her to the people with whom she interacts.

However, in so saying, I wondered why the siblings had grown so far apart in their early years. I am a sibling & recognize that youth can be a struggle, especially with different personalities so closely nestled together. Yet, it is not normal for siblings to beat each other down & torment the other, destroying their property & undermining them at every turn.

Certainly, this might reflect a dynamic of their household that neither woman wishes to address openly with the other. They have found their way into a calmer exchange in their adulthood, but neither is ever truly honest with the other, as though they knew or feared that such tormenting behaviour would return again.

This interplay allows for the mystery to take hold. Had Sasha been told that Ackermann was romantically involved with her sister, perhaps she would have been saved weeks of worry & an even longer time thinking that the time they spent together perfecting sonatas was building a foundation on which they might become entangled.

Sasha’s erratic behaviour leads her to find Ackermann’s address in his dental profile records at her office. She goes to his neighbourhood, pretending to be present for a house party, only to meet his neighbours & lie about the nature of their relationship. Certainly, this may seem predictable. By this stage, the reader might also wish to understand the life of a man whose silence was so impactful that he was murdered.

Sasha never truly uncovers the mechanism of Ackermann’s person. She becomes entangled with a man who works for the mining company that is performing alterations to the mountain; he is aloof & oddly possessive, perhaps even to the point of having ventured into her house without her knowing. This does not prevent Sasha from becoming invested in what he can provide; a way further into the catacombs of secrecy.

Upon learning that Ackermann may have been shot by Sasha’s father during a bout of defence for the daughters the man left behind, Sasha loses grip on reality. The tumultuous nature of the final acts allows a reader to appreciate the intersection of Sasha’s hopes, those she abandoned in a dream of something she never felt could quite become her reality.

Reading this book was a moving experience in that one feels darkened by a gothic-style moon. There is no mystery & yet there is the unknown. Sasha is unaware & distanced from the pattern of her person & those of people who tie themselves to her.

A man who wrote the letter to Ackermann claiming to be Sasha; the neighbourhood child who recognizes the waves of a relationship through sound; the sister whose mathematical brain has fractioned her person from the warmth of her heart; a mother who could not survive & a father who cauterized himself from that which he brought into the world.

Ultimately, readers looking for a story that explores the perturbing truth experienced by all, to some degree, may find within this book their perfect match. I deeply appreciated Polek’s writing style, the near-derogatory simplicity of poetic vernacular that teethed its way through the panicked & desperate state of a woman who was not real, though she existed in the aisle of human life.

Polek’s ability to authenticate hidden truths into a fiction, short, sweet, & tangy, is a skill the literary world cannot underappreciate. Indeed, what Polek brings to literature should be reviewed by those whose hunger for words brings them through the mountain & into the Ogre’s lair; tinged with adventure & overwhelm that such a place should exist in the borders of their own backyard.

I shall surely seek to explore other fictions written by Polek, acknowledging that this first encounter is a standard hard to beat. While Sasha may remain forever entombed by the crumbling rocks & the hands that attempt to save her from herself & a lost horse whose sole desire was freedom, readers may snug the book aside, leaving parts of themselves behind as the elongated presence of winter haunts the changing season that befalls them.

Thank you to Edelweiss+, Astra Publishing House, & Nicolette Polek for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!

[Sagar · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked this! Such a fascinating story and strong writing. The story details are fresh and specific and you would not expect them to work together but they do. I loved Polek's previous novel, Bitter Water Opera. I think about Part 1 of that book all the time. It's so taut and brisk. Thank you very much to NetGalley and the publisher - I'm super grateful for the early review copy.

[Christian Felder · Rating 5 out of 5]

Total surprise to see a highly sophisticated mystical narrative like this these days.

[endrju]

There used to be very little love between Nicolette Polek and me. I did not like Bitter Water Opera at all. However, I think I’m slowly warming up to her craft. It helps that this one is written much, much better. We’re still not quite sure about our friendship, though, as I’m highly suspicious of Polek’s decision to set the plot in Hungary the way she does (without much local specificity, so that everything seems to hover somewhere generic). I’m also not sure about the whole God thing, especially the way Orthodox Christianity figures in the book. But perhaps the third time really is a charm. We'll see.

[Jodi Anderson · Rating 4.25 out of 5]

Literary fiction with a side of murder mystery where music, grief and faith matter more than the whodunit. Spare, strange and haunting. As I read it I was reminded by that strangeness of reading Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead. In such a good way. Out February 2027.

Thanks to NetGalley and Astra House for the ARC.

[N · Rating 3.5 out of 5]

I was excited to read this book, not in small part because it's set in the part of Europe where I'm from. There's plenty good to say about this book, but its presentation of a Central European town and its people isn't up there, unfortunately, and the author's knowledge of the place often comes off as really superficial. In some instances, the failure to apply basic research or common sense is truly odd. I found that aspect distracting--and I wish it hadn't happened (i.e., there'd be no distraction if this was set in an American mountain town, foregoing the "exoticizing" need of the Central/East Euro locale, with its fur hats, vodkas, apartment complexes, etc. all the stuff of American-production Netflix series about Cold War-era Russian spies [Russia, notably, not being in Central Europe]). From the description, it sounds like the country is Slovakia, based on the proximity of the Tatras, the references to the Danube, and the Slavic or Slavic'ish-sounding names and foods. It's unclear though why while the main characters have the most cliched-sounding Slavic "Eastern European" names imaginable, Sasha and Boris, the rest of the characters have for the most part Anglo-sounding names, or at least names one would likely encounter in America. There are so many things, little details, that betray the author's American blinders. These things are common in America but not in Central Europe, or even Europe: pick-up trucks, meth heads, pie, a mother sitting at a kitchen table clipping coupons, people talking about the air temperature in Fahrenheit, about weight in pounds, about distances in miles, yards, etc. It's also so sloppy to have the narrator, a local dental hygienist, think in English--e.g., she walks into a salt mine and is struck by the thought "the root word of 'salary' is salt." But... she'd be thinking in Slovak, wouldn't she? Slovak is the language of her brain. It's the English-speaking American author of the book who would be contemplating lofty thoughts about English-word etymology, not her Central European narrator. There is another instance where characters are talking to each other and, again, the narrator comments on the individual letter sounds in what they pronounce, but this would be if the words had actually, in the world of the novel, been spoken in English, which presumably they are not, as these are locals in a village in Central Europe. It's a shame no editor pointed this stuff out, or a reader with a stronger connection to this area wasn't asked to read the manuscript. In another instance, a teacher wearing a fur hat (Netflix-Russian-spy-show-style) has a mantra he likes to deliver about Abraham Lincoln. A trite reminder for Americans: the rest of the world is not obsessed with American history and politics. A local character talks about how life was "under socialism"... but no one uses that word; people in the former Bloc say "under communism." I was also, admittedly pedantically, perplexed by the insertion of British-English terms like "lead" for "leash" or "petrol station" for a "gas station", while at other times the narrator's words are American English (e.g. went to "college" rather than "university"). But, aside from the above, the writing itself and the story: I found them compelling, intricate, delicately-structured, and imaginative. It's a book reminiscent of Lucie Elven's Weak Spot, maybe also a bit of Olga Tokarczuk, plus a little bit of good-weirdness added in.