A beautiful story. Daniel tells the story of Sebastian Zöllner, an art critic who rushes to write the life story of Manuel Kaminski, an influential, but ailing painter. It is written in first-person perspective, and Daniel uses this mode masterfully to paint the personality of his main character. Thoughts, often shown in indirect speech, tend to reveal how Sebastian views others and how others view him at the same time, just like a cubist painting shows a frontal facial view and its profile simultaneously. The following short passage illustrates the technique impressively (my translation):
I looked at Bogovic's secretary, she looked away, but I did notice that she liked me.
I winked at Bogovic, who frowned. Probably gay, that guy.
In the scene in which this "dialogue" is embedded, Sebastian is in an interview with Bogovic, the owner of an art gallery he is trying to talk into giving him a job. He is flirting with Bogovic's secretary and is not above trying to invite her boss into sharing a cheap chauvinistic moment. When the other person shows his disapproval, Sebastian does not question whether his own behaviour is inappropriate, but allows himself to make homophobic inferences about the other person's sexual orientation. In this short scene, Sebastian reveals himself as deeply self-centred, cynical and opportunistic.
And Kehlmann sustains this narrative mode masterfully, and presents a text full of witty, sarcastic, and delightful scenes that keep presenting two views of his main character at once, his own, and that of other characters in the story.
Of course, and this is no surprise, as the story unfolds, Sebastian learns things about himself, and the story is more a journey of discovery of himself than it is of the personality of Kaminski. In the third quarter of the text, the novel changes from the cultured sarcasm seen in the first half into something more slapsticky, and I did not like that when I was reading it. However, the denouement is beautiful, and feels calm, almost spiritually cleansed. In light of the novel's last scene, the reader may look back on the slapsticky sequences as events that provided turbulence and upheaval, events that were part of a necessary struggle to achieve the cathartic final moment, the moment where Sebastian is at peace with himself.
Or almost at peace. He does not quite give up his egotistic self. But it is much improved. The reader feels that there is now a chance. I wont give anything away, but Sebastian's final act in the novel, or rather, his failure to act decisively, is a hint that we are not able to change our personalities entirely. But we may be able to know ourselves, and achieve a measure of harmony between our "good" and "bad" traits.
A beautiful ending, a main character that I loved to dislike, and resisted to like, a plot that started to churn and roil two thirds through, only to calm down in cathartic peace right at the end.