Marion Poschmann

A short, quirky and determinedly ambiguous novel that manages to be captivatingly deep and mournful at the same time as being delightfully superficial and funny. And a book that operates as much through symbols as it does through explicit narrative (stand by for a lot of hair and trees...). Poschmann is clearly a writer who doesn't trouble to switch off the "poet" side of herself when she's playing the role of a novelist.

With - respectively - Basho's Narrow road to the deep north and The show more complete manual of suicide under their arms, Gilbert and Yosa, who have met by chance on the end of a station platform in Tokyo, set off on a modern version of the poet's pilgrimage to the pine islands of Matsushima. Both of them are at low points in their lives: Gilbert, who has been doing research (without very much conviction of its utility) into the iconography of beards in the cultural studies department of a German university, has run away from his breadwinner-wife after having a bad dream about her Medusa-like hair; Yosa, who even with a false beard doesn't manage to live up to his own ideal of Japanese masculinity, has decided to kill himself after becoming convinced that he has done badly in an exam. But, for a while at least, their respective failings complement each other and allow the two of them to form an uneasy team to navigate the strange world of modern Japan together.

Poschmann enjoys herself using the cultural collisions involved in this unlikely setup to make fun of the odder and less defensible aspects of Japanese and European cultures (and, in passing, of some of our ideas about masculinity), but at the same time she draws European readers into an appreciation of some of the less obvious strengths of the Japanese way of looking at the world. A pilgrimage to look at a rock or a tree isn't as obvious a thing to do as a pilgrimage to look at a building or a great painting, particularly if we find the tree in the middle of a building site or a traffic island, but it isn't hard to see (when we look at it through her eyes) how it can also have value to us.

Of course, the resulting book isn't a well-formed novel in a conventional western way - the explicit story doesn't come to a satisfactory resolution, and the situation isn't one that would bear rationalising - Gilbert's reasons for leaving his wife would seem flimsy even by the standards of Othello, and he seems to have learnt as much about Japan 24 hours after his unplanned arrival there as the author did after three months of intensive study, for instance. But that doesn't seem to matter: This is another of those books that make you want to plan a re-read as soon as you put them down. show less

Wenn aus Träumen Realität wird, kann daraus eine tiefgründige und humorvolle Reise nach Japan werden; so wie in diesem Buch.
Gilbert Silvester ist einer jener Männer, die irgendwann feststellen, dass sich ihr Leben nicht so entwickelt hat, wie sie es sich in jungen Jahren vorstellten. Statt wie viele seiner früheren Kommilitionen Karriere zu machen, hangelt er sich von Projektvertrag zu Projektvertrag, während seine Frau als Gymnasiallehrerin erfolgreich ist. Eines Nachts träumt er, show more dass sie ihm untreu ist und als er erwacht, ist klar, dass dieser Traum die Wahrheit darstellt. Fassungslos verlässt er das Haus und fliegt schnellstmöglich so weit weg wie es geht - nach Tokio. Dort plant er eine Reise auf den Spuren des Dichters Bashō, doch noch bevor er sie antritt, kann er den Selbstmord des jungen Japaners Yosa verhindern. Dieser schließt sich ihm an und gemeinsam machen sie sich auf den Weg.
Es ist eine ruhige, stellenweise poetische und auch philosophische Geschichte, die jedoch nicht ohne Humor ist. Gilbert ist ein etwas dröger 'Held', der sich seines beruflichen Mißerfolges zwar durchaus bewusst ist, verantwortlich dafür sind aber die Fehler der Anderen: die Kritikunfähigkeit seines Doktorvaters, der nicht geschätzte Auslandsaufenthalt - irgendwas war immer. Stets ist er das Opfer, nun das seiner Frau, die ihn mit ihrer Untreue (wenn auch nur geträumt) nach Japan getrieben hat. Wirklich amüsant wird es, als er Yosa begegnet und versucht, ihm die Welt zu erklären, die japanische natürlich. Und ihm (gedachte) Vorhaltungen macht, die exakt auf seine eigene Person zutreffen, was mir Gilbert aber wieder sympathischer machte (wie häufig, wenn ich über Personen lächeln muss ;-)).
Voller Poesie sind die zahlreichen Naturbeschreibungen, ganz im Sinne des Dichters Bashō, für den Poesie einen eigenen Lebensstil darstellte; selbst die des Selbstmörderwaldes, der tatsächlich existiert. Und auch die philosophischen Gedankengänge Gilberts von der Bartbetrachtung (seinem aktuellen Forschungsprojekt) bis zum Allmachtsparadoxon sind lesenswert-amüsant.
Ein ungemein vielschichtiges Buch, das mit Genuss und Aufmerksamkeit gelesen werden sollte und aus dem man viel über Japan erfahren kann. show less

I almost think I shouldn't have liked this book, but I did quite enjoy it. It's very dream-like (particularly towards the end) and there are a lot of reflective side wanderings about beards and trees and whatnot that are kind of dull but also kind of hilarious. And I did find this book funny, mostly because of the ridiculousness of Gilbert. He's less of an unreliable narrator and more of a "the narrator is full of bullshit". He's pretentious, pompous, and a completely self-involved egotist show more that views himself as supremely selfless and enlightened. He thinks his Japanese traveling companion is not Japanese enough and must be educated, so Gilbert lectures him about Japanese aesthetic, history, religion... Most of the time I'd not enjoy that type of protagonist but there was something in this that instead made me laugh. (Also, his Japanese companion that he keeps trying to prevent from committing suicide? His last name is Tamagotchi, which tickles me greatly.) Overall, while I enjoyed this book, I can definitely see how one could dislike or be annoyed by it. show less

In Marion Poschmann’s leisurely paced yet captivating novel The Pine Islands, eminent German scholar and authority on beard styles in film, Gilbert Silvester, has dreamed that his wife, Matilda, has cheated on him. Unable to shake the certainty that the dream is a reflection of the truth, he returns home after work that evening and confronts her. She denies the accusation, which “only confirmed his suspicions.” Gilbert retrieves his passport, gathers a few items together, leaves the show more house, and the next morning finds himself on board a flight to Tokyo. Gilbert’s journey through Japan occupies the remainder of the book. At a station in Tokyo he meets a young man, Yosa Tamagotchi, who becomes his reluctant traveling companion after Gilbert prevents him from jumping from the platform into the path of a train. The precise nature of Gilbert’s search is left unspecified, but it does seem that he is looking for self-knowledge, which will only come when he attains distance from the ills of society that are preventing him from accepting who and what he is. In addition to the insecurity he feels about his marriage, he has been frustrated in his career (“humble researcher, an associate lecturer”) because he never learned how to schmooze and get chummy with those in a position to help him advance. Yosa, on the other hand, who feels he has failed himself because he is certain he will not pass his exams and failed his parents because he refused to join the family’s tea business, is searching for the perfect place to end his life. Poschmann’s narrative achieves a solemn, meditative tone as Gilbert and Yosa meander from place to place—some haunted, others not—each nursing private grievances and regrets. Together they find solace in Japan’s natural beauty and the haiku poetry of Matsuo Bashō, whose journey through the country in search of enlightenment they follow. Finally, amidst the Pine Islands of Matsushima, Gilbert finds the tranquility he’s been seeking. An oddly soothing book that can also be droll and surprising. Exquisitely translated by Jen Calleja, The Pine Islands was shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize in 2019. show less