‘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.’
A prologue tells us of the death of Katharina’s former partner Hans. Six months later, two large boxes are delivered to the home she shares with her husband in Berlin. Those boxes sit in Katharina’s study until she is ready to revisit the past. She opens the first box, and is transported back to 11 July 1986, when by chance she met Hans on a bus. Katharina is nineteen, Hans is in his fifties and married. They start an affair, fuelled by their shared passion for music and art. The relationship must remain secret. The balance of power in this relationship, always uneven, shifts when Katharina strays for a single night. Hans becomes more controlling, abusive and far less pleasant. And I wonder why Katharina does not walk away.
We are there with Katharina as she works through what is contained in these two boxes. Her memories of Hans, of life in East Berlin, of change. As their relationship evolves, as Hans wants more control and there is no way Katharina can meet his expectations, life in Germany is also evolving. By the end of the novel, Katharina will have moved on, Germany will be reunified, and Hans’s star will be waning. And I am left wondering about fortunate moments. Was Katharina fortunate to have met Hans? Was her experience of the power imbalance, of his cruelty essential for Katharina to find her own place and strengths? Is their relationship an allegory for the reunification of Germany: a reminder of the transition to a new era?
This is a powerful novel, a reminder that change is rarely frictionless, that power imbalances do not remain static, and life is full of risk.
This novel won the 2024 International Booker Prize.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Tasmanian Bibliophile @Large 