Ferdinand von Schirach

Verbrechen von Ferdinand von Schirach ist ein faszinierendes Buch. Es zeigt, was hinter Verbrechen steht, so grausam diese auch sein mögen. Man hat Verständnis oder zumindest ein Motiv vor Augen, das man vielleicht persönlich nicht nachvollziehen kann, aber wenigstens ist es greifbarer. Der Schreibstil ist trocken und dennoch persönlich und man hat nach jeder Kurzgeschichte die Möglichkeit, das Gelesene zu verarbeiten und man lernt auch nebenbei noch etwas über das deutsche Justizsystem.
Sehr empfehlenswert.… (more)

Regen. Eine Liebeserklärung is a pretentious and disappointing book. The book consists of two parts: an essay of about 50 pages followed by an interview between Ferdinand von Schirach, the author, and Sven Michaelsen.

The essay starts with a series of interesting observations about writers and the way to see the world differently, but gradually an undercurrent of apparent anger and impatience takes over, and towards the end it isn't clear what the essay is about. The interview is permeated with the same anger, haughtiness, and even sarcasm. The author seems to suggest that he has not written many books, and has had a long break from writing. His obsession with himself, and his past seems to be a great source of frustration. The books mainly seems an exercise in ""navel staring". In fact, the interviewer asks him if he (the writer) knows of anything more interesting than himself.

In some ways this book does not seem to be a serious publication at all. Rather, it seems to be a teaser, to lure people to the theatre to see the author perform in a show or lecture series (the flyer doesn't say). The book was published in the first half of 2023, with "exclusive" theatre appearances starting from October 2023 till April 2024.… (more)

An intricate and intriguing novel that explores expression and creation by an artist who sees the world somewhat differently from most people. From his early childhood, where his parents were somewhat remote, Sebastian has always had an alternative view of his surroundings and he pursues this when he takes up the profession of photography, Schirach draws you into his world as Sebastián’s reputation slowly grows. But then unexpectedly he is accused of murder. At this point, the German legal system comes to the fore and the difference in the way that it operates from Britain, makes for a fascinating drama as Sebastian attempts to manipulate his defence and trial and to make it into a piece of performance art, perhaps reaching the pinnacle of his achievements.… (more)

German lawyer Ferdinand von Schirach gives us a rather gentle mystery story in The Girl Who Wasn't There. Indeed, the book is more than half over before the crime gets a mention, so it reads more like a character study of its central character, photographer Sebastian von Eschburg. Sebastian is the scion of a wealthy but loveless family, and his father committed suicide when he was still a child. He is highly idiosyncratic, uncomfortable around people, and obsessed with colour, Goya and truth. When he has an epiphany on completion of one his works, he seems to go off the rails. The story jumps a few years, and suddenly he is charged with the murder of a missing girl.

Sebastian engages gun lawyer Biegler for his defence but Biegler is nonplussed about his client's detachment and unwillingness to be straight with him. Ultimately he unravels what is going on.

von Schirach's writing style is very matter-of-fact, like journalism, which was very effective in Crime where he was recounting real-life cases. I'm not sure that it works so well here, and the book feels a bit perfunctory. As a crime novel I don't think it works, because far more emphasis is given to the lead-up and character background and not enough to the actual crime and its aftermath. The account of the investigation is not all that engaging either, and doesn't deliver any big shocks, just a gradual unfolding of what happened. It's quite bucolic in some ways. I had hoped for better after enjoying Crime so much.… (more)