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The Right Hand of Sleep
This extraordinary debut novel from Whiting Writers’ Award winner John Wray is a poetic portrait of a life redeemed at one of the darkest moments in world history.
Twenty years after deserting the army in the first world war, Oskar Voxlauer returns to the village of his youth. Haunted by his past, he finds an uneasy peace in the mountains–but it is 1938 and Oskar cannot escape from the rising tide of Nazi influence in town. He attempts to retreat to the woods, only to be drawn back by his own conscience and the chilling realization that the woman whose love might finally save him is bound to the local SS commander . Morally complex, brilliantly plotted, and heartbreakingly realized, The Right Hand of Sleep marks the beginning of an important literary career.
Twenty years after deserting the army in the first world war, Oskar Voxlauer returns to the village of his youth. Haunted by his past, he finds an uneasy peace in the mountains–but it is 1938 and Oskar cannot escape from the rising tide of Nazi influence in town. He attempts to retreat to the woods, only to be drawn back by his own conscience and the chilling realization that the woman whose love might finally save him is bound to the local SS commander . Morally complex, brilliantly plotted, and heartbreakingly realized, The Right Hand of Sleep marks the beginning of an important literary career.
336 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
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351 people want to read
About the author
John Wray
34 books180 followersJohn Wray is the author of five critically acclaimed novels, Godsend, The Lost Time Accidents, Lowboy, The Right Hand of Sleep and Canaan's Tongue. He was named one of Granta's Best Young American Novelists in 2007. The recipient of a Whiting Award and a Guggenheim Fellowship, he lives in Brooklyn and Mexico City.
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Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
November 29, 2015
John Wray's stunning 2001 debut may be better than the more well-known "Lowboy," and that would no easy feat. Right Hand evokes so much individual humanity, from so many individual characters that one cannot help but be repeatedly amazed, while completely engaged in the lives of the hero, those being swept up in the advent of fascism in Austria, and those sweeping in that advent, to some extent.
And all that comes after some of the most incredible war scenes I've read in my life. The horrors of WW I in northern Italy are evoked in a clear-headed, yet passion, cringe-filled manner.
Alas, the latter part of the book, where the poetry takes over as the slow horror of fascism takes hold, is a bit too prescient in regard to some political waves currently flowing in the US, and elsewhere. That might make the book more necessary than it was when it was published 14 years ago.
And, yeah, I'm wondering why it has been so long since Wray published a book. The two I've read are simply among the best of this era.
And all that comes after some of the most incredible war scenes I've read in my life. The horrors of WW I in northern Italy are evoked in a clear-headed, yet passion, cringe-filled manner.
Alas, the latter part of the book, where the poetry takes over as the slow horror of fascism takes hold, is a bit too prescient in regard to some political waves currently flowing in the US, and elsewhere. That might make the book more necessary than it was when it was published 14 years ago.
And, yeah, I'm wondering why it has been so long since Wray published a book. The two I've read are simply among the best of this era.
March 6, 2012
I felt like the author was so busy writing pretty descriptions and poetic prose that he forgot to tell me a clear story.
May 19, 2024
I don‘t quite understand this book. I don‘t understand what the author wanted to tell, and why he decided to tell it this way. In the beginning, I thought it was a tale about a man who left his hometown during the war only to find it changed when he returns. For the first 100 pages or so this holds true, but then it evolves into a bit of a story about love and maneuvering new times. Which I have no problem with, if only it wasn‘t for the many, many, many weird choices accompanying it.
First, nothing any of the characters do makes sense. The protagonist does things that do not match his character at all, and for no good reason. The decisions they make are not really motivated, and they change them for no apparent reason.
Then there is the historical context. Whenever he does talk about it, which is not very often, events are retold in a historically inaccurate way (I would know, I am Austrian). I don‘t mind myself some fiction, but I do not get why he makes the choices he does. Why exactly is it necessary that Dollfuß is murdered by a nonexistent person rather than the people that actually murdered him? Why is there SS in a strategically irrelevant village? Those things are easy enough to research, if you want to do so, and there is no narrarive reason to change them.
And that is just the tip of the iceberg. For the majority of the first half of the book, the main character is frequently plagued by PTSD attacks, only for them to stop being mentioned for no apparent reason. Especially weird considering he finds himself surrounded by soldiers and talk of war in the second half. In what is supposed to be an impactful thing, the main character admits that all he did throughout the book happened because he was afraid. But none of his actions are the ones an afraid person would take. And then, there is the SS Obersturmführer of the village (lol), whose backstory is recounted at length. But none of it explains why he acts the way he does now. Why have that in there?
There are certainly some nicely written scenes in this book. But that doesn‘t come close to making up for the gaping flaws.
First, nothing any of the characters do makes sense. The protagonist does things that do not match his character at all, and for no good reason. The decisions they make are not really motivated, and they change them for no apparent reason.
Then there is the historical context. Whenever he does talk about it, which is not very often, events are retold in a historically inaccurate way (I would know, I am Austrian). I don‘t mind myself some fiction, but I do not get why he makes the choices he does. Why exactly is it necessary that Dollfuß is murdered by a nonexistent person rather than the people that actually murdered him? Why is there SS in a strategically irrelevant village? Those things are easy enough to research, if you want to do so, and there is no narrarive reason to change them.
And that is just the tip of the iceberg. For the majority of the first half of the book, the main character is frequently plagued by PTSD attacks, only for them to stop being mentioned for no apparent reason. Especially weird considering he finds himself surrounded by soldiers and talk of war in the second half. In what is supposed to be an impactful thing, the main character admits that all he did throughout the book happened because he was afraid. But none of his actions are the ones an afraid person would take. And then, there is the SS Obersturmführer of the village (lol), whose backstory is recounted at length. But none of it explains why he acts the way he does now. Why have that in there?
There are certainly some nicely written scenes in this book. But that doesn‘t come close to making up for the gaping flaws.
March 31, 2013
The Right Hand of Sleep is set in Austria, 1938, as the presence of the Third Reich begins to take hold. The story centers around Oskar Voxlauer, a man who left his small Austrian hometown in 1917 to fight on the Italian front near the end the of World War I. Oskar quickly deserts the battlefield and heads to the Ukraine, where he succumbs to the lure of the Bolshevik Revolution and then falls for a woman in a socialist workcamp.
After 20 years, he heads back to Austria to find that his village has changed. Hoping to escape his past and lead a quiet life in the woods, he takes a job as a gamekeeper for a Jewish innkeeper in town. Soon, he falls for Else, a woman whose cousin Kurt happens to be a SS officer sent to Austria. It is an intriguing plot, and the author’s prose and his description of the Austria countryside is wonderful. In a way, this feels like something Hemingway could have written. Some of the best parts of the book are the flashbacks of Voxlauer’s time at the end of the war, and Kurt’s early years in the grip of the Reich. The problem though is that I didn’t always get a clear picture of what motivated Oskar and Kurt to make the choices they made. I also I didn’t care for the dialog between characters, which always seemed to be cloaked in vague terms and innuendo. It’s meant to be poetic, but the characters who almost never seemed to speak like real people, and it became tiresome. Historically, the period between the two wars is complex, particularly in Austria. As I was reading, I kept wishing for the character interaction to bring some clarity to the story.
This is an ambitious undertaking for a first novel, and clearly John Wray is an immensely talented writer. Challenging during some passages, but recommended.
After 20 years, he heads back to Austria to find that his village has changed. Hoping to escape his past and lead a quiet life in the woods, he takes a job as a gamekeeper for a Jewish innkeeper in town. Soon, he falls for Else, a woman whose cousin Kurt happens to be a SS officer sent to Austria. It is an intriguing plot, and the author’s prose and his description of the Austria countryside is wonderful. In a way, this feels like something Hemingway could have written. Some of the best parts of the book are the flashbacks of Voxlauer’s time at the end of the war, and Kurt’s early years in the grip of the Reich. The problem though is that I didn’t always get a clear picture of what motivated Oskar and Kurt to make the choices they made. I also I didn’t care for the dialog between characters, which always seemed to be cloaked in vague terms and innuendo. It’s meant to be poetic, but the characters who almost never seemed to speak like real people, and it became tiresome. Historically, the period between the two wars is complex, particularly in Austria. As I was reading, I kept wishing for the character interaction to bring some clarity to the story.
This is an ambitious undertaking for a first novel, and clearly John Wray is an immensely talented writer. Challenging during some passages, but recommended.
June 30, 2024
Started out with interest. Then lost it. Never really found the characters to be interesting enough to want to know more. What could have been a good history story fell flat with scant information and backstory - or culmination.
November 20, 2017
Univers romanul secolului xxi
December 15, 2019
This is such a lovely book. Do yourself a favour!
August 22, 2021
Was a little confusing to keep track. The flipping back to ww I and the start of ww2 was entertaining but keeping track who was who was a bit of a pain. I found myself putting the book down a lot.
January 29, 2023
Interesting but I found it hard to follow and very sad.
August 3, 2013
In John Wray's astonishing first novel The Right Hand of Sleep, it is 1938 and Oskar Voxlauer has returned to Niessen, the Austrian village that in 1917, while still a teenager, he left to join the fighting on the Italian front. Much has happened to Oskar in the intervening years since leaving home. A deserter who abandoned his unit in Isonzo, he later drifted eastward, finally landing in Soviet-controlled Ukraine, naively convinced that Bolshevism represented the future. Initially an enthusiastic supporter of the Bolsheviks, he has been beaten down and emptied out by years of living in a constant state of semi-starvation under their brutal dominion. His return to the village where he grew up takes place not out of nostalgia or longing, but largely because he cannot think of anything else to do with himself. After briefly residing with his frail elderly mother, he takes a position as gamekeeper on a friend's property in the hills outside of Niessen, severing his ties in town and for a while living like a hermit. But though he would like to, Oskar cannot put himself out of reach of external events. Hitler's Germany is flexing its muscles throughout Europe and tensions are on the rise. The Anschluss occurs in March and even Oskar, isolated as he is, knows that war is on the horizon. In the meantime, Oskar becomes involved with Else Bauer, daughter of the previous gamekeeper. After the annexation Else’s cousin Kurt, a member of the Austrian Nazi party, is installed by the Germans in a prominent position in Niessen. Else's ties to Kurt and her love for Oskar—who, as the novel progresses, reveals a troubling propensity for self-destructive behaviour and remarkable talent for making enemies—give rise to a complex tension-filled dynamic—an ideological tug-of-war that slowly escalates into a power struggle—that the reader gradually realizes will only be resolved with the death of one of the two men. Throughout the book, Wray’s writing is lush and vivid, alive with sensual detail that brilliantly evokes the period and setting—often astoundingly so. The narrative itself, which depends to some extent on flashbacks to fill out the story, sometimes bogs down—and there are stretches when the reader may be forgiven for wondering if anything is ever going to happen. Wray is a patient writer who expects his reader to be patient as well. Some readers may resent having to consult the history books in order to acquire a bit of context for the action. Others may welcome this as a learning opportunity. Regardless, in his accomplished first novel John Wray displays a formidable talent and considerable promise and has written a mature and memorable work of fiction.
May 9, 2012
I’m not sure what to make of The Right Hand of Sleep. I think I missed a lot. Wray is certainly a fine writer, purportedly one of the best of the new crop, and his characters make interesting reading companions. However, I wasn’t sure where the book was going much of the time, and now that it’s over, I’m not sure where it went.
It’s a grim tale in a grim time. Our Austrian protagonist, Alex, s sent off to war in 1917, age fifteen, to fight for the Kaiser. After undergoing some ugliness and brutality, he (quite sensibly) deserts and heads east. This leads to twenty years in the Ukraine as the “husband” of a peasant girl on a Soviet cooperative farm. All this we learn as backstory in italics and in the first person. The story proper is set in his home village to which he returns in 1938 after the death of his Ukrainian partner.
1938, of course, is a transition period. The European transition to Naziism. And, of course, the Nazi’s come to the village. Alex is a rather glum fellow who seems unclear about what he wants or where he’s going. He’s got anger issues and poor impulse control so that he sometimes act against his own self-interest. This sometimes happens in defense of some ideal, as when he slams a beer mug into a Nazi face when a Jewish friend is insulted. However, he mostly wants to be left alone and to isolate. In a later time, he might be called clinically depressed.
He secures a position as the nominal gamekeeper of a forest land owned by by a Jewish tavern/hotel owner, which enables him to hide out. Wandering his lands, he meets an outcast woman. They make a fetching pair when together. Witty, engaging. But, of course, they can’t keep themselves out of the social fray entirely. The coming horror touches them in the person of a father/lover/cousin SS officer. Whose back story reaches us in first person italics just as Alex’s deserter/Ukranian past did. And there are ironic parallels.
I suppose that The Right Hand of Sleep is a play on the phrase “The right hand of God,” but I don’t quite see the parallel between God and sleep in the book. Alex would rather sleep than fight, though he’s not particularly narcoleptic, and he can’t help himself from occasionally getting involved, as I described above. However, that doesn’t seem sufficient for the whole title. So, as I said, I must have missed something. Otherwise, this is just another Nazi horror story, with which the market is saturated. I’ve somehow stumbled on three in the last month or so. And I think it’s more than that. What more? You tell me.
It’s a grim tale in a grim time. Our Austrian protagonist, Alex, s sent off to war in 1917, age fifteen, to fight for the Kaiser. After undergoing some ugliness and brutality, he (quite sensibly) deserts and heads east. This leads to twenty years in the Ukraine as the “husband” of a peasant girl on a Soviet cooperative farm. All this we learn as backstory in italics and in the first person. The story proper is set in his home village to which he returns in 1938 after the death of his Ukrainian partner.
1938, of course, is a transition period. The European transition to Naziism. And, of course, the Nazi’s come to the village. Alex is a rather glum fellow who seems unclear about what he wants or where he’s going. He’s got anger issues and poor impulse control so that he sometimes act against his own self-interest. This sometimes happens in defense of some ideal, as when he slams a beer mug into a Nazi face when a Jewish friend is insulted. However, he mostly wants to be left alone and to isolate. In a later time, he might be called clinically depressed.
He secures a position as the nominal gamekeeper of a forest land owned by by a Jewish tavern/hotel owner, which enables him to hide out. Wandering his lands, he meets an outcast woman. They make a fetching pair when together. Witty, engaging. But, of course, they can’t keep themselves out of the social fray entirely. The coming horror touches them in the person of a father/lover/cousin SS officer. Whose back story reaches us in first person italics just as Alex’s deserter/Ukranian past did. And there are ironic parallels.
I suppose that The Right Hand of Sleep is a play on the phrase “The right hand of God,” but I don’t quite see the parallel between God and sleep in the book. Alex would rather sleep than fight, though he’s not particularly narcoleptic, and he can’t help himself from occasionally getting involved, as I described above. However, that doesn’t seem sufficient for the whole title. So, as I said, I must have missed something. Otherwise, this is just another Nazi horror story, with which the market is saturated. I’ve somehow stumbled on three in the last month or so. And I think it’s more than that. What more? You tell me.
December 13, 2012
In his debut novel, The Right Hand of Sleep, John Wray offers a historical fiction spin on the phrase “you can’t ever go home again.” Oskar Voxlauer left his village in Austria as a teenage to fight in the Great War. Twenty years later, in 1938, he returns to his village to find a rising tide of Nazi influence, which he tries to escape by living in the woods. However, the woman he becomes involved with is the cousin of the local SS commander. There are long italicized flashbacks about both men’s pasts interspersed with the goings-on in this small town. Admittedly, I was very distracted when reading this book while on the road, but I found the plot very hard to follow. The writing is ethereal, much is left unsaid, and I didn’t understand the characters’ motivations or why certain events were happening. However, the prose was very descriptive, and I can see how literary critics could lavish praise on this book. I enjoyed Wray’s third novel, Lowboy, much better.
February 16, 2010
This novel tells the story of a man named Oskar Voxlauer, who returns to his Austrian village in 1938 after a long period away. Eventually, it becomes clear that he served in World War I and deserted in Hungary. He then trekked to the Ukraine where he lived on a collective. His return home is fraught with challenges, not least of which is coming to grips with the rising tide of Nazism and what it means for his Jewish childhood friend and his new relationship. Wray's writing is beautiful, and, having studied a bit of Austrian history, I was interested in the description of political events occurring at that time in Vienna and the ripple effects in Voxlauer's sleepy village.
April 26, 2009
The Right Hand of Sleep was one of several John Wray titles that I had on my 'hold' list at the library. But I think I can let the others expire as this novel didn't meet my expectations. The characters - even the protagonists - were just a bit too cold and distant. And the writing style - appreciated by the critics - was a bit too abstract and was lost on me. With the bank-and-forth recollections of Oskar Voxlauer and of Else Bauer's Nazi cousin, I sometimes lost my place with characters, time period and purpose.
September 8, 2009
Wray's style reminds me a bit of Cormac McCarthy's in its simplicity. He leaves quite a few things to the imagination in this novel - the narrator is not entirely omniscient, which I appreciate. I also liked the dialogue, it was very natural.
It is easy to develop empathy for Voxlauer, the protagonist, but I didn't really go in for the other characters, especially one who shows up late in the novel and tells his own story. I found his story a little boring.
It is easy to develop empathy for Voxlauer, the protagonist, but I didn't really go in for the other characters, especially one who shows up late in the novel and tells his own story. I found his story a little boring.
October 5, 2009
John Wray again does a fine job of entering characters lives fully. I learned about the invasion of Austria by Germany. Wray allows you to really grasp the pain/anger/grief/confusion of those men who must go off to fight war. We experience the space between WWI and WWII. I enjoy his clear style and sense of pacing.
July 19, 2011
A strange book in some ways. It's quite well written, and the story, of a young Austrian's life from going off to war, to coming back to an Austria about to be taken over by the Nazis, is an interesting one. Somehow the characters remain one dimensional and I found it hard to get involved in the book.
April 9, 2018
Very strange novel. Good at times, but weird too often. Goes back and forth between present and past (although 'present' is WWII era and 'past' is WWI era). Told from the perspective of a young man who was Austrian and went AWOL in WWI, becomes a Bolshevik, and returns to Austria in time for the start of WWII. The 23 year old author was trying too hard to be deep.
March 10, 2014
A complicated, convoluted tale of a WWI deserter, who lived in Russia for 20 years before coming back to a Nazi infested Austria, on the brink of another war. Brilliant characterization, both of the main character and his stubborn courage in resisting the Nazis and the Nazi cousin of his lover, and his story of how he gave in to evil. A very unique voice.
April 10, 2009
Very impressed with this novel. What I gleaned is how easy it is to be complacent about the state of the state. (This novel is set in Austria between WWI and WWII.) Very creepy - that part. Not at all heavy-handed. Seems like a very masculine book, which is interesting for me.
January 1, 2012
Story about an Austrian deserter in WWI who returns to his home town 20 years later to witness the beginning of NAzism. The conversation method Wray uses is disconcerting to me. Not a satisfying story.
June 2, 2014
Damn, pe unii oameni (bine, bine, personaje în cazul ăsta) istoria nu-i iartă deloc. Bieții de ei, cum au încercat să facă abstracție de istorie refugiindu-se în lumea lor din pădure și cum istoria i-a găsit, inevitabil, în cele din urmă...
April 9, 2008
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December 17, 2008
Incredible! Highly recommend, not for the faint of heart. Beautiful.
February 10, 2011
The flashback scenes from Oskar's time in the war deftly drew me in ... a pity the rest of the book didn't do the same.
October 12, 2011
One of the best novels I've read recently and one of the best first novels I've ever read.
July 24, 2011
Impressive for a first novel. Very authentic. However, the characters were not very well constructed and dialogue style was not conducive to an enjoyable read.
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews