Kairos

Jenny Erpenbeck’s International Booker Prize-winning novel, Kairos, describes a love affair that brings the participants much physical and emotional gratification along with great pain, even mortification, but which through many highs and lows remains an obsessive passion for both. In East Berlin in 1986, Katharina and Hans encounter each other for the first time, on public transit. Their connection is instantaneous and irresistible, even though Katharina, a student, is only 19 and 50-ish Hans is older than her father. As they enter each other’s lives, their relationship is primal and physical, but grows into a deeper intellectual bond as they discover a common fascination with music and art. However, the terms of their relationship show more are not always satisfying, as Hans is married to Ingrid and has a son, Ludwig, and Katharina has friends her own age whose company she enjoys, which annoys Hans, who is not above disparaging her for wasting time frivolously. The generational difference in age has a further, political, aspect, which Erpenbeck doggedly explores. Hans was born during the closing months of WWII. His Germany is steeped in the traumatic history that he lived through. He remembers the devastation and years of guilt and hardship as Germany struggled to come to terms with revelations of atrocities perpetrated by Hitler’s government in the name of the German people. He is intimate with the process that led to the country being divided—East vs West—along ideological lines and is committed to socialism. He witnessed the construction of the Berlin Wall. Katharina’s Germany is a tired, derelict place where shortages are frequent, a place where citizens are watched, their activities monitored by the ubiquitous secret police, where the West is relentlessly demonized, and where the Berlin Wall has always been in place. She too is devoted to socialism, but her devotion to her country and its ideology does not stem from first-hand experience but is the result of a lifetime of unflattering depictions of Western consumer society in the state-controlled media. The rift between the lovers occurs when Katharina sleeps with a colleague, and Hans responds with bitterness, even cruelty, as he seeks ways to control and humiliate her. Inexplicably, Katharina accepts this treatment at the hands of her lover and for a time the two remain within each other’s lives. But with the collapse of the Soviet empire and German Unification, the bond loosens. Erpenbeck frames the novel as a dual reminiscence, throughout the book often blending Hans’ and Katharina’s perspectives. Years after the main events took place, Hans has died and boxes of papers have been delivered to Katharina at her home, sparking memories when she begins sorting through them. This melding of the personal and the political yields a kind of hybrid narrative that, to some degree, blunts the reader’s emotional connection with the characters and leaves the nuts and bolts of the author’s narrative strategy exposed. Still, Kairos packs a punch as it provides a blistering account of a decisive moment in history through the lives of two citizens of a country that one day, suddenly and jarringly, simply ceased to exist. show less

One day in 1986, Katharina catches the eye of Hans on the tram. When she gets off, he follows. She turns to meet his gaze. And that’s rather where you may wish this story had come to its end. Soon enough it is clear what Hans sees in her — she is young (19), beautiful, and full of life. But what does she see in him? He is 34 years her senior and not especially attractive. He is, however, a published author, though how exactly that could transmit itself as an attractive feature via an eye caught on a tram is beyond me. At first their relationship seems exhilarating. But it isn’t long before Hans’ domineering and manipulative traits come to the fore. And you might, along with some of Katharina’s friends, think her continuing in show more the relationship is just stupid. It rather gets worse from there. So much so that even the seismic events of the late 80’s in East Berlin aren’t enough to distract one from the distastefulness of this relationship.

Jenny Erpenbeck is a fine writer whose previous works I have admired. But here she presents a young woman whose actions are, at least to me, utterly inexplicable. Hans is just straightforwardly creepy. Enough said. But what explains Katharina’s behaviour? Nothing that the novel reveals, sadly. And so I found myself just longing for it all to end. Unless, perhaps this is all meant as an allegory of East Germany’s infatuation with the creepy and creaking mass of state socialism…? No, I think I’m just grasping at straws.

Sadly, not recommended. show less

19. Kairos by Jenny Erpenbeck
reader: Lisa Flanagan
OPD: 2021, translation: from German by Michael Hofmann (2023)
format: 10:25 audible audiobook (336 pages in hardcover)
acquired: Mar 21 listened: Mar 21 – Apr 5
rating: 4
genre/style: contemporary fiction theme: Booker2024
locations: East Berlin 1980’s, 1990’s
about the author: German author and opera director, born in East Berlin in 1967

My 3rd from the International Booker Longlist (the shortlist comes out Tuesday). This one, from an East Berlin-born author, captures the atmosphere of East Berlin in the last years before the wall came down.

I really enjoyed this. There’s a creepy aspect to get past - the relationship of a 19 yr old girl and a 53 yr old married man with a son. You will show more need to come to some terms with that if you want to get through this.

What i enjoyed was how the history and the times were reflected in and echoed through this relationship. I don’t think the relationship was purely symbolic. It had its own life. But the nature of it demands comparison and consideration in that light. Hans, born in 1933, was shaped by Nazi Germany without the guilt of compliance. He experienced all the post-ww2 mess, displacement, Soviet control and Iron Curtain isolation. Pre-and-post stasi, if you like. Katarina was born in 1967 in East Berlin. She’s always known the wall and East Germany is her entire experience.

Their relationship, the way they embrace, the ways they tangle and struggle, do various things, and the way it evolves after the fall of the wall, in each of them it reflects their histories and what they have experienced and know. I found that kind of beautiful.

I was fascinated by the nature of being in this East Berlin in the waning days of the GDR. It's hard to capture. Erpenbeck's version is ominous and unoptimistic, but there is also something stable about it, a lack of chaos, a slower pace allowing a different sense of art and history. This was quickly lost in unification.

I want to mention the prose. It works but has an unusual technique. It’s largely an odd prose of association where adjacent sentences are referencing different things. Paragraphs become collages of mixed association. You can still follow what’s going on without trouble. I found this is much easier to see on the page when I borrowed a library copy. But I used audio, and it was intense trying to mix it all while still taking in the main storyline. The audio production is very good, but I definitely missed stuff.

All three books so far from the International Booker longlist have left me in slightly odd state, a feeling of reading something different and unfamiliar, creating some distance between myself and the book. Strange.

Anyway, this is a nice novel, if you can tolerate the core relationship.

2024
https://www.librarything.com/topic/358760#8498763 show less

It’s an age old story, but no matter how often it’s written and read, no one ever seems to learn; theirs is always the one case where things will be different.

A young girl gets off a bus in East Berlin. It’s 1986. A man she doesn’t know, some thirty plus years older, gets off too. They shelter from the rain in the same spot and then she starts walking. He follows. The reader dreams up all kinds of outcomes. They end up in a café. That is the beginning of a long and tawdry relationship.

Naturally he is married. Naturally he tells her his wife means nothing to him compared to her. He is a well known author and radio commentator. She is a student. Flattered that a man as erudite and mature as he should find her so attractive, she show more becomes his plaything. As time goes on, he becomes more and more controlling, trying to mould her into the person he believes he needs.

Erpenbeck has written a novel where the measure of control and domination Hans exerts over Katharina, and the subterfuge required to carry on, echo the control and domination of the DDR government. Hans himself is required to resort to lies and deceit to carry on not only his personal life, but also his public life. His government job means that he cannot be found out, although as always, there is a double standard between what is preached and what is tolerated.

Disillusionment on both side is bound to follow. Katharina’s efforts to break away are paralleled in the political realm as the Berlin Wall falls. Hans must make breaks too.

This novel of personal and political duplicity and betrayal, of hope sometimes crushed, sometimes rewarded, works on so many levels that it’s like reading an expert manual on how to manage these things. The reader though never loses sight of Katharina herself, making it not only an engrossing read, but also a book to reread in the future. show less

karina school code electives

paul jones

This had some extremely tough windows of nothing but misery and cruelty. It is a story of power and victims of power, on a personal and an national level. The personal is an affair between a sweet, lovely and intelligent teen (intelligent intellectually, not emotionally) and an absolute asshole old man ten years older than her father. Why she ever likes him to begin with is unclear, she thinks him handsome (and his string of extramarital affairs supports this) and once she learns about his life and discovers he is an author and radio ‘celebrity’ of sorts, she dives into her first great love head first. It isn’t a good choice. From day one he is controlling, at first ground rules because he is show more married, and although he pretends he and his wife have agreed to give each other some latitude it sounds like this is completely untrue. His poor wife and son… more victims. Also from day 1 he takes his new lover into his marital bed while the wife is away, and he can smell Katharina on his sheets once she has gone. Katharina has to abide by his rules for when and how they can meet and make her love, and life, revolve around his and his boundaries. There follows a mix of amazingly vivid descriptions of life in the GDR blended with the extramarital affair that finds Katharina deeply, madly in love and forming a bond that will be the foundation for the remainder of the novel. She is just so happy when she receives any attention and time from her lover, who she simply worships. As Katharina tries to build a life based on her love the creepy old fucker both depends on her love (and uses this to increase his hold), and abuses it both mentally and physically, starting up with sadism during sex that Katharina meekly submits to, and at times he only stops when her silent tears become too much for even him. It is torture to read. As it gets worse and worse she just can’t leave, even after he brutally dumps her on one occasion - which ends up having terrible consequences for Katharina and a new source of power for Hans that be relishes. Hans’ son Ludwig seems the only person that recognises Hans as a monster. Ewwww, how I loathed that character. Mixed in with the prolonged death throes of their relationship and the sadness of a wonderful soul being crushed is the more complex and larger scale implosion of the GDR, the fall of the wall, and reunification is a second story line, in ways paralleling the love story as the Soviet Union abandons the worshiping GDR. The early parts of the novel are a fascinating glimpse into what life was like in the GDR. The story of reunification itself, where a whole nation that essentially worked for the state was out of employment pretty much instantly (a whole nation!!), their money valueless, their hopes for a future just society, a better form of socialism, all swept away without them having a word to say on the subject. This was really interesting and vividly told.
All of the writing was excellent, and the translated text flowed beautifully.
So, a mix. I can’t describe it as an enjoyable read as the cruelty of Hans crushing a beautiful life was torture, but the story of life in the GDR and the hope that Katharina would just kill him and start a new life held me through it. I’m not surprised to see many did not finish on this, and low numerical GR score, the cruelty of a petty pathetic man who has some power is very hard to take. show less

Winner of the 2024 international Booker Prize, Kairos was at first a compelling novel about an inappropriate love affair, which eventually turns into a kind of allegory about East and West Germany and the fall of the Berlin Wall. The novel begins in current time as Katerina finds out about the death of her former lover, Hans. She was 19 and he some thirty years older when they meet on a bus in East Germany before the reunification. She loves his looks, intelligence and cultural experiences, and is perfectly okay with the fact that he has not only a wife and child, but other mistresses. To his credit he sets the conditions for their affair, but it doesn’t bother her :” If you had a thousand women, she says, all that matters is the show more time that we get to spend together. How can he ever refuse her anything, if she doesn’t demand anything? “ it appears that he and his wife have an understanding: “Years ago now, the couple made a joint decision not to watch each other too closely. Only they didn’t want to make it public, lest it seem too much of a slight to either party.”
I didn’t know a lot about East Germany but the history of this affair coincides with the reunification, which is also true of the author’s lifetime in East Germany. The relationship becomes ugly as it goes on, and as a reader you cringe at what the young girl is willing to subject herself to. The second half of the novel gets more political as Katerina becomes more independent and the ending reveals yet another twist.
The writing is wonderful at times: “Is she always the same person, whatever she’s doing — or is she multitudes, like the figures on a carousel, who always go by one at a time? Until recently a girl who had shacked up with her lover, now spends her nights alone. The future trails its loose ends into the present until it becomes the present, settles on one or other human flesh, and its flourishing or brazen regime abruptly begins. “. Though the second half of the novel waned for me, I’m glad to have made the effort to research some of the background that makes the story more interesting. Her translator said he sees the novel as two sides of a coin, one the personal and the other the political. I’d be interested in exploring some of her other works.

Lines:

Kairos, the god of fortunate moments, is supposed to have a lock of hair on his forehead, which is the only way of grasping hold of him. Because once the god has slipped past on his winged feet, the back of his head is sleek and hairless, nowhere to grab hold of.

It will never be like this again, thinks Hans. It will always be this way, thinks Katharina. Then sleep puts an end to all thinking, and what happened to them both today is inscribed permanently — while they lie together, breathing peacefully — on each one’s cerebral cortex.

The longing to maintain control must be at least as powerful as the desire to lose it.

Why a love that has to be kept secret can make a person so much happier than one that can be talked about is something she wishes she could understand.

Years ago now, the couple made a joint decision not to watch each other too closely. Only they didn’t want to make it public, lest it seem too much of a slight to either party.

It’s bliss, says Hans, a state he’s rarely experienced before with another person: withdrawal from everything around about into one’s own essence. A kind of inner emigration.

What one generation sought to forget imposed itself on the next as a taboo, and what the older generation missed out on was performed, with a fifteen-year delay, by the younger generation, who never stopped to ask themselves why.

He is old enough to know how the end likes to set its roots first imperceptibly, then ever more boldly, in the present.

Is she always the same person, whatever she’s doing — or is she multitudes, like the figures on a carousel, who always go by one at a time?

By the time she has told him everything, he will know who she was, but by then she will long since have become a different person.?…, On her birthday, he is her only guest, he beats her with the riding crop, and says he wants her never to forget how he gave it to her, on her twenty-first birthday.

that monogamy is just an arrangement, nothing more. Basically, it was invented to secure the inheritance in a patriarchal system.

Coca-Cola, she’s noticed, is now on sale in the eastern half of Friedrichstrasse station, also in Pankow in the little store where she always shops, Coca-Cola same as in New York or Munich. Coca-Cola has succeeded, where Marxist philosophy has failed, at uniting the proletarians of all nations under its banner. Is this home? show less

1986 to 1990 or so, East Berlin. Teenager Katharina meets Hans, 10 years older than her father, on a bus one day. And so begins a relationship that lasts until his death some 6-8 years later.

She is naive and curious, he is a serial cheater who can be angry and cruel. She knows no better. His wife and son put up with it.

What makes this most interesting to me is its setting in late-stage East Berlin. Katharina has lived her entire life with the current government. Hans was just young enough to skip being canon fodder in WW2. The real dystopian nature of this time and place gives a different twist to a story that is not unusual yet is unusual. Her father accepts it though finds it weird. There is no church community to care. His wife and show more son are annoyed, but Ingrid accepts it and Ludwig (a younger teen) avoids Katharina as she avoids him. And then the wall comes down. Katharina is nervous and scared, wary about just walking over to a place she has needed permission to visit in the past. Jobs become scarce--even Hans gets nervous. I think this is the first novel I have ever read set in this time and place.

After finishing the book I reread the Prologue, as the book starts at the end, years later. show less