The Applicant

by Nazli Koca

A singular debut, The Applicant explores with wit and brevity what it means to be an immigrant, woman, and emerging writer

It’s 2017 and Leyla, a Turkish twenty-something living in Berlin is scrubbing toilets at an Alice in Wonderland-themed hostel after failing her thesis, losing her student visa, and suing her German university in a Kafkaesque attempt to reverse her failure.

Increasingly distant from what used to be at arm’s reach—writerly ambitions, tight knit friendships, a place to call home—Leyla attempts to find solace in the techno beats of Berlin’s nightlife, with little success. Right as the clock winds down on the hold on her visa, Leyla meets a conservative Swedish tourist and—against her political convictions and better judgment—begins to fall in love, or something like it. Will she accept an IKEA life with the Volvo salesman and relinquish her creative dreams, or return to Turkey to her mother and sister, codependent and enmeshed, her father’s ghost still haunting their lives?

While she waits for the German court’s verdict on her future, in the pages of her diary, Leyla begins to parse her unresolved past and untenable present. An indelible character at once precocious and imperiled, Leyla gives voice to the working-class and immigrant struggle to find safety, self-expression, and happiness. The Applicant is an extraordinary dissection of a liminal life between borders and identities, an original and darkly funny debut.

Genres: Fiction, Contemporary, Mental Health, Audiobook, Germany, Literary Fiction, Womens

256 pages, Hardcover

First published February 14, 2023

About the author

Nazlı Koca is a writer and poet from Turkey who now lives in the US. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Notre Dame. She has worked as a cleaner, dishwasher, and bookseller while her work has appeared in the Threepenny Review, Bookforum, Second Factory, Chicago Review of Books, and books without covers, among other outlets. The Applicant is her first novel.

Reviews

[lark benobi]

I have a possibly different perspective on this novel than most readers in that I've worked as a room cleaner in a German hotel (in my case, in Freiburg) where all the other workers were from Turkey. The experience was enough for me to grow increasingly unhappy with the narrator's self-absorption and lack of interest in her fellow workers except as people she didn't feel she had much in common with. The narrative had a lot of "I, me, my" in it and not much curiosity about the other people she observed except in relation to her and her interests. As I have very vivid memories of the women I worked with, I wondered about this narrator's lack of curiosity.

[Dab · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a brilliant debut! This book resonated with me on so many levels it’s almost unreal, it brings back so many memories!

Leyla is a young Turkish aspiring writer currently living in Berlin. She has just finished her studies but somehow failed her thesis and is now in a limbo awaiting the results of the appeal and at the same time fighting the German immigration system. She is still on a student visa, only allowed to work twenty hours a week. She gets a job as a cleaner in a hostel and spends most of her free time doing drugs and having sex with strangers (before you ask, these are not the parts that bring back memories😅)

This is a book about so many things! It’s about being young, having dreams and making questionable choices, but also about not being allowed all these things because some office clerk has your nationality listed on a wrong excel sheet. It’s about trying to belong while staying loyal to your country and family (in a way) and about falling in love (sort of?).

Written in a form of diary it pulls you in from page one. The writing is excellent! The book is thought provoking and hilarious at the same time; it will make you angry and then make you laugh a moment later.

Highly recommended for those who have ever lived abroad, for artists, students and those who don’t know what they are just yet.

But even more for those who are none of these things.

Thank you NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the chance to read this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Bharath · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book stands out as being very different from the usual. It raises several important issues around immigration, respect, stereotypes, morality, individual purpose & aspiration. The tone tends to fluctuate though – quite light for the most part, meandering into a more serious mood at times. In some ways this book represents a lost opportunity for something deeper and more impactful.

Leyla is a student from Turkey in Berlin, who aspires to be a writer. Her thesis has been rejected, and as a result her student visa could be revoked. She has filed a case against the university, and is granted a temporary visa reprieve for 6 months. She takes up work as a cleaner for as many hours as is allowed by law. While she is not sure how hopeful she should be on continuing in Germany, she starts writing her experiences & thoughts in a diary. There is a lot of drinking, drugs, casual sex and partying. Her mother in Turkey does not know what she is going through. Her distance from her home country affords a level of freedom and anonymity she is happy about. Her thoughts frequently go to the situation in Turkey – politics, opposition, suppression, poverty, and she thinks of what she has gained and what she has lost. She comes in touch with a Swedish tourist and feels herself getting close to him. But there are a lot of uncertainties.

The best part of the book I liked was Leyla’s dialogues & musings which give a raw & spunky character appeal, and also bring up many deep issues in a light manner. The writing though is inconsistent and there is an excessive level of detail on Leyla’s wayward lifestyle. While Leyla’s character is well-developed, none of the others are. The ending feels abrupt, but Leyla’s inner monologue at the end was lovely.

My rating: 3.5 / 5.

Recommended for being very different and the important issues it raises.

My thanks to Netgalley, Grove Press and the author for a free electronic review copy.

[Elyse Walters · Rating 3 out of 5]

“To Whom It May Concern,
I obey, I work, I appreciate. I scrub, I vacuum, I mop. I want you so bad I’ll do whatever you ask.
I can kill, I can steal, I can take the blame for anything you need. I can dance, I can sing, I can be your exotic queen. I can carry, I can build, I can drive you from building to building. I can be the star of your football team. I can fight all your wars for a tiny, shiny coin. Two coins and I will probably work in your rotten hospitals, universities, tech companies. I can live in your apartments and take care of your babies. For free. It would be an honor to live under the same roof as you, your creepy, husband, and your newborn baby. I can be your cheap prostitute, right here, right now, I can take it all in. If the earth collapses in on you, one day, take this oath, I will be your human shield.
Will you let me stay, let me stay, let me stay”.

Layla, is a Turkish immigrant living in Berlin who ends up cleaning and scrubbing toilets at a hostel. At night she spends time clubbing — [drinking, snorting Ketamine, and hooking up with a guy from Sweden].
“Last night’s show left me feeling even further away from the bold writer I thought I’d become by now” …

So… in ‘dear diary style’….we learn about her struggles.
With a failed thesis, Layla takes her university to court for the injustice. (with an expired visa—good luck!).
“The court could decide that my thesis was good enough to pass, and I could become a master of arts overnight. Then, I would have eighteen months to find a real job, which should be more than enough, even though I don’t know what I mean by a real job since I don’t ever want to work in an office again. Is this why I am so eager to call myself a cleaner? Do I think that being a cleaner might make me part of the city in a way neither being a student, nor an artist could?”
“A poor immigrant who wants to create art is irrelevant. A poor, immigrant looking for a job is an annoyance. A poor, immigrant looking for any job to survive has the potential to be profitable. But to turn a profit, one needs to get rid of all the inconveniences, like self regard, hopes, and dreams”.

“Two days ago, the court sent both me and the university copies of the same letter, advising us to meet and discuss the case one last time before they set a hearing. Yesterday, the University sent me an invitation email to meet the director in his office at the end of January. The court wants us to solve the issue among ourselves since I’m on legal aid and if a hearing takes place and I lose, the government will have to cover the expenses”.

As a debut….Nazli Koca does a fine job giving us the experience of a twenty something year old, struggling…..
….immigrant, or not.

Personally….
I have no connection with being drunk…so…
I found myself agreeing with the protagonist when she said things like:
“The drunker I got, the more put together, everyone else seem to me, against myself”.
Made perfect sense to me!
Was I suppose to feel sorry for Layla?

I didn’t love or or hate this debut.
The darkness was murky and the lightness was cynical …..
Overall …I was neutral to this novel.

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Titled after the Sylvia Plath poem, Nazli Koca’s first novel explores overlapping questions of gender and patriarchy. It’s presented as a diary written by Leyla, a would-be writer who left home in Turkey to study in Berlin, all part of a plan to become a writer. But after failing her dissertation, Leyla’s left in limbo, barely supporting herself as a cleaner, while protesting her professor’s decision to block her from finishing her studies. Leyla is part of a loosely-formed community of drifters, women and men whose fantasies of life in Berlin have been derailed by the reality. She lives in a shared apartment in an area of Berlin once known as a cheap area for immigrants but now attracting would-be artists and students. Leyla documents her experiences hovering on the fringes of Berlin’s literary and artistic scenes, taking refuge in watching Turkish soap operas. Her fractured family background, and her now-dead father haunt her dreams, signalling a trauma she’s unable to confront.

In some ways Koca’s scenario is a familiar one, the disaffected, isolated woman caught between cultures and identities, the narrative even features a relationship between Leyla and the almost-stock wealthy, conservative man - referred to only as the Swede - echoing recent novels by writers like Sally Rooney and Naoise Dolan. Here used to introduce an exploration of politics versus emotions. Koca’s story could sometimes feel a little forced and unfocused but it also contains some striking reflections on Turkish society, as well as on xenophobia and racism, alongside a more general critique of contemporary capitalism. And, despite the occasionally flat delivery, there’s a sense of underlying sincerity to Koca’s portrayal of Leyla’s dilemmas. I also liked the ways in which Koca drew on books and films, particularly aspects of Turkish literature from Madonna in a Fur Coat to Cold Nights of Childhood. This didn’t entirely work for me but it's still a promising debut.

Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Corsair

Rating: 3 to 3.5

[fatma · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Applicant is a compelling novel about immigration, belonging, and the complicated relationships we have with our homes, however we define them. The story moves along at a quick pace, and it's a fairly short novel, but nevertheless you get a good sense of the narrator, Leyla, and her voice. Given its brevity, the fact that the novel is written in a diary format also works to its advantage as it allows us to get to know its main character in a more direct, intimate way. As a novel, The Applicant can also be considered as part of the string of Disaster Woman novels that have been so prominent as of late; if you tend to enjoy those novels, I think there's a good chance you'd enjoy The Applicant. But even if you don't--and I generally don't--I think this novel still has plenty to recommend it over and above the general tropes of the Disaster Woman story.

"To Whom It May Concern,

I obey, I work, I appreciate. I scrub, I vacuum, I mop. I want you so bad I’ll do whatever you ask.

I can kill, I can steal, I can take the blame for anything you need. I can dance, I can sing, I can be your exotic queen. I can carry, I can build, I can drive you from building to building. I can be the star of your football team. I can fight all your wars for a tiny shiny coin. Two coins and I will proudly work in your rotten hospitals, universities, tech companies. I can live in your apartments and take care of your babies. For free. It would be an honor to live under the same roof as you, your creepy husband, and your newborn baby. I can be your cheap prostitute, right here, right now, I can take it all in. If the earth collapses in on you one day, take this oath, I will be your human shield.

Will you let me stay, let me stay, let me stay."

So far, so good. For the first 70 pages or so of this novel, I was really enjoying it, a few minor issues notwithstanding. The more I read The Applicant, though, the more those minor issues became...not minor. What I was willing to overlook in the first third or so of the novel became virtually impossible for me to ignore by its end: namely, the writing. Simply put, the writing of The Applicant lacks finesse. It feels clumsy: in the moments where you want it to stop because it's made its point, it keeps going; or just when you think a passage has struck home, there's some cliched phrase or wording that undermines it. Parts of the story read more like posts than as narrative, as though they were a product of the author's thoughts and opinions rather than those of the story's protagonist. And it's not even that I disagreed with those thoughts and opinions--I didn't--but rather that they disrupted the narrative and effectively took me out of the story.

(Also: I felt like the plotline with the Swedish love interest was really random, and I did not like the ending at all; it felt like it came completely out of nowhere and was so tonally discordant with the rest of the story.)

I appreciate what this novel was trying to do, and I did enjoy parts of it, but as a whole it just didn't quite hit the mark for me.

Thank you to Grove Atlantic for providing me with an eARC of this via NetGalley!

[Ten Cats Reading · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to the author Nazli Koca, publishers RB Media, and as always NetGalley, for an advance audio copy of THE APPLICANT.

Leyla is a young Turkish twenty something should-be-post-grad living in Germany, who suddenly finds herself cut off from her expected source of academic funds when her thesis advisor flunks her thesis. It's unheard of at her German university, but here she finds herself, involved in a lawsuit, trying to obtain her degree. Trying to salvage all that work. But also, she needs food, and a place to sleep. She can't return to Turkey. And her relatives can't help her, can't help themselves, or anyone. She needs a job. So she goes to work, at first cleaning rooms in a hostel. Soon, she figures that a job is a job. Since she needs the money to survive, being prudish or moralistic about how to earn goes beyond illogical. So, she works and parties a great deal, always circling back to her journal, where she writes the entries that let the reader into her life.

The narravative voice in THE APPLICANT is just exactly as compelling as the audiobook narrator is tense and boring. I can tell this book is written in a voice that would just pull the reader along, but unfortunately the audiobook reader read every sentence in the same high-strung inflection-- as though she was reading an edge-of-the-seat action sequence when she is actually reading diary entries. The form demands a more nuanced performance. I don't recommend the audiobook.

My favorite thing about this book is that Koca uses Leyla's wonderful voice to posit some radical ideas about work that are fascinating to consider in the safe fictional framing. She discusses the moralistics of prostitution at one point; also the ethics and usefulness of firing employees who break rules if they benefit the business in other ways. Leyla spends a great deal of time considering such inquiries, but in terms of character development, this time results mostly in lateral gains. From start to finish, none of the characters change much, and none of the book's conflicts resolve much.

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 / 5 stars
Recommend? Yes, it was interesting
Finished: March 03 2023
Read this if you like:
📖 Diary entries
🧑‍💻 Stories about work
🌍 Immigrant stories
👧🏽 Strong female voices

[Miss Lo Flipo · Rating 5 out of 5]

A veces ocurre que un libro va y te pone en tu sitio. Con La solicitante de Nazli Koca pasa justo eso, que te hace agachar tus orejillas occidentales y privilegiadas cada cuatro párrafos.

Es sorprendente y admirable el talento de la autora para condensar en 255 páginas tal cantidad de ideas y reflexiones políticas y sociales sin perder de vista en ningún momento la propia voz, lo personal, la experiencia. Y es que es eso precisamente lo más interesante, no es tan fácil leer lo colectivo desde el yo, y sin embargo Koca nos lo ofrece aquí como si fuese pan comido hacer que alguien como yo, que habito en una realidad diferente, pudiese entender tan bien la rabia y la frustración de ser inmigrante en Berlín teniendo todo el sistema en tu contra. Pero voy por partes, os cuento:

Leyla narra en sus diarios cómo (sobre)vive en Berlín después de haber dejado algunos años atrás su Turquía natal con la aspiración de escribir. Sabemos que está atrapada en un laberinto burocrático para conseguir ampliar su visado y que la Academia le ha dado la espalda de una manera vil tras rechazar su tesis. Está atrapada en un trabajo precario limpiando baños y haciendo camas en un hostel, gastando lo poco que tiene en drogas, alcohol y fiestas de techno. Es adicta a las telenovelas turcas y tiene una cuenta atrás para abandonar su vida y volver a Turquía; es decir, volver al trauma familiar y a un Gobierno que no le permitiría escribir lo que escribe.

Todo pinta mal para Leyla y es una suerte que con su historia podamos acceder a todos los pensamientos e inquietudes de Nazli Koca, poder asomarnos a su realidad (al final es autoficción y hay mucha verdad en sus textos) y entender mejor algunas cosas. De ella y de nosotras mismas.

Si solo vais a leer un libro de la rentrée este año (lol, sabemos que no será uno solo, pillinas) os recomiendo que sea este ejemplar mentolado y fantástico de que ha editado @editorialmapa y ha traducido impecablemente @gala_translates 

Si lleváis clubs de lectura no le perdáis la pista porque tiene que ser una pasada comentar todo lo que ocurre entre esas páginas con más gente apasionada.

De hecho: ¡¡leedlo y hablemos!! ¡¡Por favor!!

[mel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Format: audiobook ~ Narrator: Günes Sensoy
Content: 4 stars ~ Narration: 4.5 stars
Complete audiobook review

Layla is a Turkish student in Berlin. She failed her thesis and consequently lost her student visa. Now she works in a hostel where she cleans rooms and toilets.

For me, Layla was not very likable. Overuse of drugs didn’t help here. I couldn’t understand why Layla wants to stay in Berlin and has no interest in learning German (she clarified this towards the end, but it wasn’t convincing). Although I didn’t like or get her many times, I understood her struggles as an immigrant and in becoming a writer.

Narration was very good, and I loved the Turkish additions interwoven in Layla’s diaries. You can sometimes guess the meaning. But it is nothing essential for the story.

All in all, I liked The Applicant. It is a very honest novel in diary form, and it documents one immigrant struggles in another country.

Thanks to Recorded Books for the ALC and this opportunity! This is a voluntary review and all opinions are my own.

[Júlia Peró · Rating 5 out of 5]

Como si Berlín fuese El país de las maravillas y Alicia una joven escritora migrante turca que busca necesitada que la acepten en un mundo donde nadie la quiere excepto si está dispuesta a currar en uno de esos trabajos precarios que nadie más quiere hacer.

[Shelby (allthebooksalltheways) · Rating 4 out of 5]

MINI REVIEW

Leyla is a young Turkish woman living in Berlin, working menial jobs after failing her thesis and losing her student Visa. Leyla struggles to come to terms with her new life as her dreams of being a writer seem further and further out of reach. Feeling wronged by the University, Leyla sues, and her life and future are in the hands of the courts. Meanwhile, Leyla attempts to find happiness and contentment in a life that was never supposed to be hers.

The Applicant is a evocative debut novel, it's engrossing and well written, with dark humor woven throughout. It provides a lens into the life of an immigrant woman and the struggles she faces, both outwardly and inwardly. It was also very educational and enlightening. I learned a great deal and I always appreciate a book that teaches me.

The narrator did a fantastic job, though there were some production issues that I hope will be ironed out in the final copy.

Story: 4 stars
Narration: 4 stars
Audiobook quality: 3-4 stars depending on whether these issues will be fixed. 💕

I do still recommend!

Big thank you to Grove Press for my Goodreads giveaway win, and to RB media for my ALC.

[Joy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Applicant's premise had me expecting a feisty protagonist, suing a Berlin university for failing her thesis and subsequently at risk of losing her visa. Through diary entries, we are privy to the thoughts and activities of 27-year-old Leyla. Other reviewers have slotted this novel into the 'Disaster Woman' category. Like how every family is terrible in its own way (Tolstoy), how and why precisely these women disintegrate is unique. I've given this matter a fair amount of thought, especially for female protagonists suffering from complex PTSD. How difficult it is to explain and tease out individual factors, how outwardly the ways of coping may be judged and frowned upon, who is deemed worthy of sympathy and supports.

Back to The Applicant by Nazli Koca, whose title refers to one of Sylvia Plath's works, I will straightforwardly admit at being taken aback by the 'messiness' of Leyla's life and her escapist forays. She is rather evasive to boot, called a black box teasingly in Turkish by her sister and often can't bear to scrutinize how her life has become contrary to her hopes and expectations when she first arrived in Germany. She wants to become a published writer and yet now she is a cleaner at an ironic Alice in Wonderland themed hostel. Her thesis was on the lives of Turkish immigrants in Germany and her crusty German professor fails her without a second thought. She is acutely aware that her host country expects her to be eager and grateful, as well as the repression that artists and other dissidents face back in Turkey.

Progressing through the book, Leyla's numerous pressures and past traumas, her busy brain trying to figure out solutions and seek comfort even while sleeping made me really feel for her. She is clearly very intelligent and well-read, we find out that she had a privileged upbringing until an enormous change in family circumstances. Her father became an alcoholic, physically abused her mother so in her diary, we can see her deeply care and shaken when she encounters instances of domestic abuse. She took part in Istanbul protests but was in Germany when the Gezi park protests and military coup happened. Even though she wasn't there physically, the images and videos affected her greatly. Her mother and sister call her incessantly, she is aware how much is riding on her being successful. Leyla also rails against the 'capitalist patriarchy,' racism and hypocrisy of Western countries.

As this is an ARC, the publisher has requested that we refrain from quoting until checked against the published version. I have highlighted many sections in this book and will return to post quotes once the published book is obtained. Leyla has a wicked, black humour, a quick overthinking mind and compassion for those doing whatever they have to in order to survive. She has a huge array of friends with very different backgrounds, all with their own issues. My only criticism with a diary format is that it feels like quite a lot of details spelled out when normally if writing for oneself, probably wouldn't need to explain so many things one presumably already knows. There's some meta to it because Leyla gets some buzz with reading snippets of her diary which are getting accepted for publication in a journal and could be turned into a book named The Applicant. This is cold comfort to Leyla in achieving some recognition of her writing because time on her visa is running out. There's a sense of urgency and anxiety permeating her and the novel.

Whether it's self-sabotage, or repression and cruelty in her home country, guilt over her father's crimes, discrimination and white nationalism, it's fair to say the odds were stacked against Leyla. So contrary to my initial impression, I came to see her as a survivor, as someone who still cares deeply about others, who can't turn off her brain from engaging, who doesn't have the luxury of turning away from all these issues because it impacts her and people around her. There is a glimmer of realistic hope at the end.

Thanks to Grove Atlantic Press and Netgalley for providing an eARC in exchange for an honest review. The Applicant's publication date is 14th February 2023.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

A poor immigrant who wants to create art is irrelevant.

By those self-imposed standards, Leyla – a young Turkish immigrant is living in Berlin – is irrelevant. Her thesis has been rejected, causing her to lose her student visa, and she is awaiting the German court’s verdict about her future. in the meantime, she scrubs toilets and cleans messy rooms in an Alice in Wonderland-themed hostel and trolls the nightclubs at night while snorting lines of coke.

Living in this state of limbo, Leyla turns strangers into friends, friends into witnesses. She also writes in her diary, which is evocative of Sylvia Plath’s The Applicant, which explores the ways that rampant consumerism and patriarchy pressure people to conform to narrow roles.

Is conforming, indeed, what Leyla is doing? Particularly after meeting and falling in love with a conservative and handsome Swede – who, in another time and place, would be considered a kind of Prince Charming rescuer – she questions who she is and what she’s doing. Is it wrong, she asks, to make a little room for your shape in a system rather than shaping yourself to fit in? Is it possible for those whose lives are secure and comfortable to see beyond an imposed definition of right and wrong? And perhaps most importantly, “was it possible to live and narrate a story at once without sacrificing one or the other to censorship?”

As Leyla imposes layer upon layer between herself and others to shield herself from emotional pain that inevitably ensues, she struggles to accept her own truth in life and trust it to take her where she needs to go. This thought-provoking debut offers devastating insights into the search for self. I am indebted to Grove Press for the opportunity to be an advance reader in exchange for an honest review.

[Alicia Perea García · Rating 5 out of 5]

La piel de gallina desde el principio hasta el final. He doblado tantas esquinas que ahora el libro ocupa el doble.

[Francisca · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Yo también llevo este tiempo creyendo que era libertad lo que andaba buscando...” Así termina (casi) este libro de autoficción, este diario de Nazli Koca en el que nos muestra la vida, pensamientos, sentimientos y emociones de Leyla, ¿podría ser su alter ego? Sea como sea, es este un libro que grita por todos los costados.

Leyla es una muchacha turca que al finalizar sus estudios va a Berlin para hacer su Tesis. Con el visado que tiene, solo podrá trabajar media jornada y trabajará como limpiadora en un albergue con temática de Alicia en el País de las maravillas. Su aspiración es la escritura, escribir, dar vida. Así que este diario es un dar vida a su vida. Buscará a Christianne F. para hacerle una entrevista, le gustará el techno, se drogará muy a menudo, se enamorará de un sueco y verá muchas telenovelas turcas de las que saca grandes enseñanzas en la vida. Su madre y su hermana vivirán en Turquía. Su padre, ya muerto, la perseguirá como un fantasma.

Son estos diarios unos diarios sobre la búsqueda de la identidad, de la propia y la colectiva, de la de una mujer y de la del migrante. Leyla sin duda ahondará en su vida sabiendo ver sus sombras y luces, pero sobre todo sus sombras, para hacernos ver que la vida tiene algo que decirnos. Que no todo está tan claro como las aguas. Que las aguas pueden ser turbias como los lagos de Berlín en los que ella no se quiere meter a bañarse. Leyla, aspirante a escritora, nos describe un mundo capitalista y para nada o para todo armonioso, dependiendo cómo lo miremos. Porque siempre estará contando los céntimos que se encuentra (sus tesoros del día) o conocerá el amor a través de un sueco de derechas con el que no tiene nada que ver. Pero le quiere igual que a su madre. A los dos los quiere. A los dos les tergiversa el mundo. A los dos se da como un pajarito que va dando de comer a sus crías, poco a poco.

Leyla aprenderá a conocerse a través de sus experiencias y de su escritura en estos diarios. Aprenderá a nombrar, sobre todo, lo que es vivir. Como un axioma, Leyla vivirá profundamente la vida berlinesa. Es, de este modo, este libro, un libro que es reflejo de una sociedad que se vive y se ha vivido. Yo misma pude vivirlo durante una semana. A Berlin se va porque se es artista o porque nos interesa la cultura. Yo fui como artista. Visité museos, fui a conciertos de música experimental. Berlin es, quizá, la ciudad más cosmopolita y urbana y joven aunque sea vieja, pero recordemos que hubo que reconstruirse tras la II Guerra Mundial, de Centroeuropa. En ella se aúnan las más diversas culturas, se aúna el arte, la vida, el amor, la mezcla de todo lo que tenemos por sacar para los demás.

Estamos sin duda ante un libro que busca la identidad de una persona por hallarse en el mundo, por enfocarse en él, por buscarse en él. Leyla es sin duda una persona que se pregunta y nos pregunta calladita, por lo bajo, si la vida hay que vivirla a pleno pulmón o en la invisibilidad. Ella a veces aboga por lo primero y otras veces por lo segundo. Es La solicitante un libro sobre la afirmación de estar vivo, de quererse vivo pese a la pulsión mortífica de la droga o las salidas a fiestas. Es, ante todo, un retrato de una juventud cuya búsqueda en el mundo aún se halla en proceso.

[maría ✶ pagesbymaria · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐️

[Samuel Gordon · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the book but the way it was constructed felt gimmicky to me and ultimately let the story down.

[Kelsey · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got this one just days before the earthquake in Turkey, thinking I would enjoy a book about the Turkish diaspora blurbed but Elif Batuman. Sadly, in the wake of the earthquake, this book has become only more critical of a read, and I dearly wish it wasn’t coming out in the aftermath of such a tragedy.

Leyla is 25, living in Berlin on a “fictional visa” after her thesis was rejected by the university, meaning she can’t get a full time job as a Turkish immigrant in Germany. To pay rent, she gets a job as a cleaner while her lawsuit against the university is pending.

Koca writes in a light, conversational way, but the topics are anything but. Germany has had thousands of Turkish immigrants for decades, and this has caused panic about “assimilation” for just as long. I took almost 10 years of German, and I remember even in the mid-2000s we were taught about the tensions between Germans worried about losing their culture and the immigrants just trying to make a life for themselves. Of course, this is also super racist, and Koca gets at that- being an ex-pat vs an immigrant, funny how that works!

Racism, classism, what it means to be a writer from an undemocratic country, sex work and the ethics and stigma, the obligations towards family still in your home country, the difficulties of becoming a resident in Europe, I could keep going.

In a world where the people of Turkey are fighting for their lives and the government is censoring and weighing who gets resources, this book is unfortunately more critical than ever.

Highly recommend, and I only wish I was recommending under better circumstances.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 rounded down

A different take on the "disaster woman" story we've seen so much of in recent years, The Applicant follows Leyla, a young Turkish woman who has moved to Berlin to make a new life for herself. She ends up working as a cleaner in a hostel by day and spends her nights taking drugs, drinking and dancing in Berlin's clubs. She meets a Swede in a bar one night and strikes up a relationship with him, a man who seems almost the antithesis to the life she has carved out for herself in Germany: a man with his own apartment, works as a salesman for Volvo, shops in Ikea, has friends over for dinner parties. This takes place to a background of Leyla reflecting on the life she has left behind in Turkey as well as her separate life of trying to eke out a side hustle of finding her place in the pretentious literary circle of Berlin.

There are some really compelling themes at play here, and I found this to be a wholly refreshing take on the contemporary immigrant narrative. My main quibble was that parts began to feel a bit frustrating and repetitive, watching Leyla fail to help herself... but in hindsight I think these sections were probably necessary as a part of the overall narrative.

Thank you Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.

[Queralt✨ · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was not what I expected. The story follows a Turkish immigrant living in Berlin who dreams of becoming a writer. A young woman who’s failed her PhD thesis and is sueing her university. Perhaps more importantly, she’s navigating who she is and what her future may be. She has a part-time work as a cleaner at an Alice in Wondertland-themed hostel that barely pays the bills and her German visa is a big concern.

This all sounds SO interesting to me. Yet, at the end of it, it ended up being a lot about drugs, toxic friendships, and one night stands. It wasn’t bad, just three things that I hate reading about.

[Ainoa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lo he disfrutado mucho. Tanto que diría que se ha posicionado entre mis libros favoritos. ¡Qué voz! ¡Qué preguntas!

Desentrañar los pensamientos de alguien debe de ser algo parecido a esto: ver que las preguntas, incluso las que parecen más íntimas, son en realidad compartidas.

Qué manera más cruda y más necesaria de hablar de la experiencia de la vida de un inmigrante en el mundo occidental.

Cómo de importante es, de vez en cuando, dejar de mirar con nuestros ojos para sentir otros como propios.

[Andrea (abooksplace) · Rating 4 out of 5]

tremenda bomba 💥

[Ana · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really loved ‘The Applicant’. It’s the (slightly pretentious, just like my reviews :/) diary of Leyla, a Turkish immigrant in Berlin. Leyla came to Berlin to do a masters in English, but after failing her thesis and subsequently suing her university, she’s stuck on a ‘fictional visa’ whilst she awaits the decision of the courts. Stuck between her literary aspirations and the oblivion of Berlin’s drugs and nightlife, Leyla embodies the idea of the liminal.

Importantly for me, Leyla is not a refugee or asylum seeker. She doesn’t flee direct persecution or fear for her life: instead, she flees an unremarkable existence living with her mother and sister. It isn’t possible for her to become a writer in Turkey- to write would be to put herself in danger. This separation of Leyla from the much-talked-about refugee places her in a very liminal social standing. She receives none of the (rare and begrudging) sympathies that a refugee would garner, and none of the acceptance that a skilled, high-earning immigrant might. Leyla is perceived to be of little value to society, either as a pity project or as a skilled contributor.

She works as a cleaner at an Alice-in-Wonderland-themed hostel, where she is allowed to pick up ‘treasures’ that guests have left behind. These are frequently listed, as though they are a mechanism for holding on to something, finding control, or meaning. As the story unfolds and time hurtles closer to the expiration of her visa, Leyla is swept up into two opposing routes.

On the one hand, is her diary. Leyla achieves success at public readings from her diary in Berlin’s bars. She opens up her deepest thoughts and feelings to Berlin’s artsy crowd, and while her success should pull her out of her liminality, she disappears even further into the ether. Leyla can turn up to these readings as drunk as can be, but nobody notices or cares. She feels out of place in the society she has fought so hard to be accepted into and begins to avoid it at all costs. To add to her personal irrelevance, this small literary success will not help to extend her visa.

On the other hand, is the Swede. Never known by any other name, this very nice, very normal, centre-right man has come into Leyla’s life. He is in love with her, and she professes her love for him. The Swede pays for Leyla to visit him in Gothenburg on her days off. She meets his family. If she wanted to, they could get married, and if, after two years, they were still together, she could join the Swede in his respectable IKEA apartment.

Leyla will remain irrelevant in either life. She could illegally overstay her visa in Berlin, but she’d never be stable enough to make a name for herself. She could marry the Swede but she’d never be able to talk to him about art or politics and she’d lose touch with the literary world she’s left her mother and sister to join.

‘The Applicant’ is masterfully told. It’s an absolute page-turner whilst also being intellectually engaging, and Leyla’s state of limbo is powerfully and gut-wrenchingly told. ‘The Applicant’ is the perfect title. It encompasses the liminal state-in-between that is occupied by so many immigrants, and prompts the question: who gets to decide who is worthy, and who is not?

[Judy Collins · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nazli Koca delivers an insightful and smashing debut, THE APPLICANT. A raw, honest, gut-wrenching, witty tale of a young Turkish writer living in Berlin and the struggles of being a young immigrant woman.

Leyla was raised in Istanbul by a resentful mother and an abusive, alcoholic father. She wanted to go to Berlin and write with the vagabonds.

Now in her mid-twenties and living in Berlin, she cleans toilets at an Alice in Wonderland-themed hostel after failing her master's thesis, losing her student visa, and suing her university for readmittance or being deported back to Turkey.

She is still on a student visa, only allowed to work twenty hours a week, which is not enough to live. While she waits in bureaucratic limbo for her case to be resolved, Leyla is not allowed to enroll in another program or take a full-time job.

While in limbo, she records her day-to-day experiences. Is her time running out on her visa and her dreams? From smoking, alcohol, drugs, sex, and partying in the Berlin club scene, she numbs herself as she tries to clean the filth of humanity.

Will she ever be free? She barely makes enough to pay for her health insurance and food. If only she could start over. She thinks about her past and present. Is this her new reality? Her romantic ideals of Berlin are shattered, and she is left cynical and jaded.

Then Leyla meets a right-wing Swedish tourist, and against her better judgment, she falls in love. With him, she can stay in Germany if she wants to accept a traditional and conservative life, but she would be giving up her career as a writer and artist. Would it be better than returning to Turkey?

Written in diary-like entries, an eye-opening exploration of a tragic working-class immigrant and her real struggles. Acutely observant and a profoundly sympathetic character, a novel of self-identity and life between the borders—an educational and enlighting debut that is darkly funny.

I listened to the audiobook narrated by Günes Sensoy for an engaging listening experience.

For fans of recent novels, Wendell Steavenson's Margot and Jessica George's Maame. Also, Sylvia Plath's poem by the same name, The Applicant. Plath's poem (1962) is a satirical 'interview' that comments on the meaning of marriage, condemns gender stereotypes, and details the loss of identity one feels when adhering to social expectations. The poem focuses on the role of women in a conventional marriage, and Plath employs themes such as conformity to gender norms.

Nazli Koca's THE APPLICANT is a modern-day realistic look at life as an immigrant. The author gives us a brilliant inside look at Leyla's forced conformity. The novel is timely, exploring the critical issues of our time, from class, immigrants, ethnic identity, racism, white supremacy, feminism, sexual ownership, and many others.

A powerful, thought-provoking debut that offers devastating insights into the search for self. In a world where the people of Turkey are fighting for their lives at this very moment, this book is more timely and critical than ever.

Thanks to #RBMedia #Recorded Books and #NetGalley for a gifted ALC. I did experience some technical issues with the audiobook (continued to stop); however, I assume this will be worked out before the final production.

Blog Review Posted @
www.JudithDCollins.com
@JudithDCollins | #JDCMustReadBooks
My Rating: 4 Stars
Pub Date: Feb 14, 2023
Feb 2023 Must-Read Books

[María Delgado · Rating 4 out of 5]

Què magnífica novela. En compañía de Sylvia Plath, Elena Ferrante, Nina Simone, James Baldwin y Kathy Acker, la protagonista de esta novela, una migrante turca en Berlín, intenta hacerse un hueco en la ciudad de sus sueños. La burocracia alemana rompe sus ilusiones e intenta navegar como puede el día a día. Escribe su diario, trabaja como limpiadora en un hostal y se evade cuando puede. Pero es mucho más. La historia de la dificultad de una joven estudiante para ser ella misma, la huida de una Turquía con un gobierno asfixiante y opresor, la mirada privilegiada de quienes no han sufrido en Occidente lo que otros llevan a su espalda, la lucha por sobrevivir en un mundo centrado en la desigualdad que escupe a quienes son diferentes… Maravilloso debut 💓

[emmmma berverrr · Rating 5 out of 5]

the best parts of the idiot, convenience store woman, and writers and lovers all wrapped up in diary entries.

[Sava · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you netgalley and Grove Atlantic for this eARC!

I was worried I'd have to continue to gatekeep my 5 star review, so I have to thank Nazli Koca as well, for this fantastic read.

The Applicant follows the story of Layla, a Turkish immigrant in Berlin. She indulges in the classic Berlin nightlife, drugs and sex, but not without fear, since her student visa is running out, she can't get a job because her thesis was failed by a lazy professor, and she's falling in love with a man who is in some ways as different from her as it gets.

Her story makes you frustrated and scared. A young person's life and future is in the hangs of an uncompromising bueraucracy. If it wasn't for one man's stubbornness, she wouldn't have to worry. Everyday she encouters subtle racism, even from her open minded peers who never had to doubt how they're going to put food on the table. To some, the solutions to her issues are obvious, but they fail to realize there are factors they won't ever understand, they fail to understand how some things can never be let go, despite them not doing anyone any favours. How feminism (and other forms of activism) free some, but only form a bigger cage for others.

Her story also makes you laugh, in joy and in despair. Despite her misfortune, she's bright, witty, and if only people listened to her, they could see it, and they could see how she deserves to have security and a chance - like all of us do.

I couldn't choose a quote to begin this review with, because there are so many good ones! I had so many bookmarks I had to stop myself from making more, since there's an amazing paragraph on almost every page. It's written in simple, yet meaningful language, that perfectly conveys those long-lasting doubts and worries - they've been repeated in one's head for so long they barely sting individually, but form a dull ache together.

I can't wait to get a physical copy and read this outstanding debut again, and of course, to see where Koca takes us next!

[Büşra · Rating 2 out of 5]

Painful to write this review but still. As a twenty something in 2016 and also a Turkish immigrant, I can relate to many topics she briefly mentions. Also my family background, cultural background is very similar to the main character Leyla. So yes I easily related with her.

But she is really unlikable! So does the novel. There were few passages that were strong, however all in all it was so depressing and disppointing to read. The narration was also quite boring and the story was not moving forward. Even the ending. The resolution was so shallow. And i have to say, except her, all the characters were shallow and were not described in detail.

Even the Swede. I guess she tried to make a plot twist as the Swede in Sweden was supporting right wing and Leyla being on the opposite side.

I really wanted to like it, i guess partially because one of my all time favorite author Elif Batuman liked it. But unfortunately this novel was not for me.

[Bonnie_Rae · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this book a lot. I found that reading an entry or two, taking a quick 2 - 5 minute break to do something (I suddenly found the urge to clean my apartment in fits and starts), and then coming back to the book was the way to go. I did not want to rush through the book - I wanted to take my sweet time reading through it and savor each sentence. It does give me vibes of My Year of Rest and Relaxation, a woman bent on self-destruction, but I did enjoy this book more.

However! I refuse to believe this chick can do the amount of coke, ketamine, and who knows what else and function properly. She is a total wine addict as well (you know a person is an addict when they can calculate their finances by how many Aldi wines they can budget in a month). I have gone on benders myself (alcohol benders, I don’t mess with hard drugs) and have gotten quite hungover, from time to time. But she can just shake it right off and function no problem? That is literary license at work right there.

Additionally, as other reviewers have pointed out - how can one fail a thesis? I think the book sort of implies the thesis advisor was racist (since he failed another Turk)? But to screw up and fail a thesis requires something like forging data, plagiarizing liberally, or doing such a bad job that it would take more work to screw up than to finish the thesis. I can say this having written my own thesis (a good thesis is a done thesis, as my advisor liked to say!) and having seen some of my own cohort’s writing. At a certain point, you gotta buckle down and get it done.

The suffering and horribleness of Leyla's story and those of her friends are almost too much at times - bordering on a melodramatic soap opera (rather like the ones Leyla keeps referring to in her journal). It seemed like the writer wanted to make all these points about capitalism, feminism, dictatorships, German bureaucracy, conventional marriages, violence against women, Turkey, stupid Westerners, politics, abusive marriages, mental health, drug use, alcohol use, writing, performing... I wish some of it had been scaled back because it was just too much. It's bleak to the point of smothering.

The narrator is clearly struggling with PTSD from growing up in a violently abusive household, suffers from depression, and enjoys punishing herself/wallowing in her suffering. With the latter, she seems to carry over some “guilt” for having lived extravagantly in the past and for seemingly to fail at everything she touches - her writing career, her masters’ thesis… the woman is burned out and has placed way too much pressure on herself. She is called out on this from time to time, but I know what it is like to go back and forth from the pool of apathy and to the rockiness of righteous indignation and frustration. I think the author was portraying Leyla as someone with depressive realism who is stuck in a rut.

I think this book took its title in part from the poem, The Applicant, written by Sylvia Plath. There are themes that come across in both works - the meaning of marriage, women being made to fix men in marriage (tho in this book, it seems The Swede, who never gets named!, is the one fixing her?), the “usefulness” of a woman (holes, hands, eyes), gender roles (which Koca definitely picks apart in this book), conventional marriages and lives… I don’t know for certain if Koca was inspired by the poem but I suspect it to be so. I mean, she name-drops Plath in her own book.

I feel like this book has a specific audience that I do not fit into (I am not a writer, I am not Turkish, I am not living in Berlin, tho I would love to, my life is very boring and safe and comfortable compared to Leyla’s). Not that is this is a bad thing, at all. I feel like I related to Leyla in several ways - my mom tells me to “get over it” and “turn off the news” when I confess my anxieties and fears (so I button up and bottle it up! Healthy habits!), my dad was a POS (nowhere near as bad as her dad), and I’ve felt the long slog of depression and burnout. There are times where the news and the world suffocates me and the one of the few things that helps is just to unplug and stop thinking for awhile. It doesn't solve anything, really, but it is better than drowning in despair and frustrated futility.

At the end of the book, it seems like she is going to move in with The Swede and adopt the role of a housewife. But she is worried about the relationship turning into a relationship like the one she has with her mother,

How I can love them both but can't talk to them about anything I truly care about. How most of my interactions with them are limited to eating together, holding each other, and recaps of the mundane. How much love they both have to give and I almost feel crushed under it.

And yet, the first time she had sex with The Swede, she was doing lines of coke during. The dude calls himself conservative in politics (a fiscal conservative if you will) but seems pretty open and accepting of Leyla, despite everything that could turn him off.

Perhaps Leyla is afraid to risk making herself vulnerable to The Swede but it's like - that's a you problem. You have to decide whether or not to open yourself up and tell him more about you or to clam up forever. The book doesn't give us a clear-cut answer to it, but I hope she finds happiness and comfort with the guy rather than spiral out and self-flagellate. There is so much of Catholic guilt/sins-of-the-father vibes in this and I just want to go into the book, shake Leyla by the shoulders, and scream "YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS!!!! GET SOME FUCKING THERAPY!!!"

But what was so unique and different for me was getting a different perspective of what is going on in Turkey and how people, especially from the West, love to talk down to Leyla about her home country is both infuriating but realistic. Like, guys. The last thing this chick needs is to be lectured about her country from some sanctimonious, stupid prick. This was published the same month as the horrific earthquakes in Turkey, which is oddly prescient since Nazli Koca is not afraid to point out how awful Erdoğan is.

But the author does love her country and wants to share her views on it. The least I can do is read and think on it. I do have issues with the story and the narrator, but I am glad to have read this book. I look forward to reading more from Nazli Koca.

[Star Gater · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you NetGalley and RB Media, Recorded Books for accepting my request to audibly read and review The Applicant.

Narrated by Günes Sensoy
Published: 02/14/23

My love/hate relationship with Literary Fiction scores a tally mark for love. While I didn't actually love the book, I did enjoy the story. I found myself wondering about the author's second book, after all this is a debut novel.

There are a multitude of issues with the main character all based on her family, education, nationality, and socioeconomic standing. The author does not write a whiney story. The main character is smart, driven, and average. I have good days, get a lot done; then have days where I don't care. I was able to appreciate Leyla, her choices, and her thinking.

This is not a complex story where flow charts are needed. This is the story of a woman finding her way in life while being at the bottom of the pecking order with loads of reasonable adult responsibilities.

The narrator did a good job. In the future, recognizing her name would have me stop and read a synosis.

There is profanity.

I will take a debut author over an established one every time, and I'm glad I didn't miss this. 3.5 stars, I'm not comfortable rounding up. This needed tweaked, but well worth my time and energy.