The Invention of Curried Sausage (1993)

The story within the story (double narrator device) is set in Hamburg, Germany at the end of WWII. The protagonist, a young man who used to eat curried sausage at Mrs. Brücker’s stand sets out to find out how she came to invent curried sausage. Mrs. Brücker begins a long story which really is the story of her life at the end of WWII. A young naval officer, Bremer, is assigned to go to the front line to stop British tanks instead of returning to his map room in Oslo. He spends the night with Lena. He then decides to go AWOL because he has heard how he might die on the front line as the British are entering Hamburg. He believes he cannot leave her apartment and Mrs. Brücker does not tell him that the war is over. She keeps him 27 days. By telling her long story she has in essence taken captive another young man who has had to stay away more days than he anticipated to hear how Lena invented the sausage.
At first, I did not like Lena because of her dishonesty and unfairness with Bremer’s life. She is a strong woman who managed to survive the war, maintain her own opinions and she was able to use her capitalist ingenuity to become a woman who was able to take care of herself, her children and her grandchild. There is much to admire about Lena. Lena loves to make “much of little”. (pg 34). This reminds me of my German heritage. I did not like Bremer who chose to go AWOL and who did not acknowledge is wife and child.
I also liked Lena’s statement about old age, on page 146. “You know, the only unfair thing is old age…..” and “That’s the strange thing, for a long time getting old is something that happens only to other people. And then one day, somewhere around forty, you find it’s happening to yourself; you notice…” And yes, you do get to find out how Curried Sausage was invented.
Themes include ‘not telling important things”. This touches on her relationship with Bremer, her relationship with her husband who doesn’t tell her things and she doesn’t ask and even her own and the German people who choose not to wonder about the Jewish people who are disappearing. Another theme might be the power of food. Bremer gains weight in captivity while the Germans are losing weight and the Jewish people are skeletons. In the end we see Lena an old lady relishing her sweets. The curry is supposed to have antidepressant effects. Bremer loses his taste.
Apparently this would be a good companion read with The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass. I’ve read some other reviews and in the most part the translation was good though there might have been a better choice than “chitlins”. Uwe Timm is a successful German writer. He has won the Jakob-Wassermann prize. Uwe Timm’s older brother died at the end of WWII. The author was an author in residence in 1997 to the Washington University in St. Louis. ( )

Having not looked this up I'm honestly not sure whether to call this a "fiction," "non-fiction," or "creative non-fiction." The author claims to be telling a true story that's (ultimately) about curried sausage, as told to him by the woman who invented the stuff. Certainly he could be. But how could he know everything that was going on, what the characters were thinking, etc.? Hmm.

Yet I don't really have to know.

In any case, it's a compelling story: a short, sweet love affair in Hamburg in 1945, in the last weeks of the war, as the Third Reich is in its death throes. I like how Uwe Timm (and/or the lady who told him the story) stretched the tale out, a little bit at a time, and her crocheting as she talks is an excellent metaphor for that. By the end, I had gotten so into the story that I barely cared about the curried sausage anymore.

A very good World War II story, regardless of how factual it actually is. ( )

Funnily enough, The Invention of Curried Sausage is about the invention of curried sausage, much to the amusement of my friends who saw the title of the book I was reading. A man, Uwe Timm, searches for the history of the invention of curried sausage, a popular German fast food (basically, sliced sausages fried up with ketchup and curry spices), by revisiting an old acquaintance, Mrs Brücker. Mrs Brücker used to cook curried sausages for him at a street stall in Hamburg, and as part of discovering the history of this dish, Timm also finds about her life towards the end of World War 2.

It was a charmingly quirky read, although at times slightly bittersweet, which is only understandable given when and where it was set. There were some nice nods to the artificiality of books: when Timm keeps on trying to second guess when Mrs Brücker did actually invent curried sausage, she replies "things are only that simple in novels". Mrs Brücker proves to be a great storyteller, and like many of my favourite storytellers, is rather creative with the truth, from the very start of the book.

My favourite bit of this book is an extended description of a barter process, whereby the post-war economy of Hamburg putters along quite nicely, with unwanted goods being swapped for wanted goods and skills, and cigarettes are the basis of it all. ( )

Partly through this book I found myself craving curried sausage, which was odd, since it's not the part of German cuisine I typically long for (usually it's the bread). Timm talks about curried sausage with such obvious affection, however, that this fondness was contagious. I wasn't able to find a German copy of this, but the translation was excellent, and I didn't feel as though I was missing much; it captured the flavor I would expect of the original.

This is such an enjoyable, pleasant fiction, weaving in and out of history as the narrator gently coaxes Lena Brucker - who claims to have invented curried sausage - to tell her tale, which begins with an affair with a deserting German soldier near the end of World War II. Timm realistically captures everyday life in Germany during this time, but the tone of the novel is light, even playful. The subject matter is delightful because it's seemingly so trivial, so gratuitous.

Really different, and thought provoking, with plenty of German history thrown in. Not nearly as food-related as I hoped, but I'm still glad I read it. ( )