Between Nine and Nine by Leo Perutz

Translated by Thomas B. Ahrens and Edward T. Larkin

"He belongs to a lower form of the human species.  An occasional game of poker is the only intellectual activity I have observed in him, and even then he loses most of the time.  You don't know him, but I always had the notion-even before I had met him and long before I knew who he was: 'This mandrill actually walks more or less like a human'.  It wasn't out of spitefulness...but I was really surprised that he was so good at walking upright....Well, this mandrill is about to snatch Sonja from me."

Poor Stanislaus.  To hear him describe Georg Weiner, you'd think that Georg was the creepiest guy in the world.  Why on earth would Sonja fall in love with such a cad?  Actually, the problem is the socially-inept Stanislaus.  Arrogant yet completely ill at ease.  His cagey behavior makes some assume he's a thief, yet he pays his way.  Some think he's an incredibly smart intellectual, but his actions are childish.  All of this combine to create a narrative that is both cynical and sweet.

One thing is sure:  Stanislaus loves Sonja, to the best he can, given that 'love' is undefined for him.  Sonja for her part is scared to death of this suitor, who turns charm on and off, and leaves everyone a bit off kilter.

"I often told her, a woman shouldn't go to a cafe.  To see a woman, you should have to climb four flights of stairs and ring the doorball, your heart pounding.  And then you don't find her at home - you've come in vain.  It's not until you're going down the stairs, disappointed, that you feel that you love her.  But a woman whom you can find at a cafe whenever you feel like seeing her...declines in value and becomes commonplace."

Against Sonja's opposition and against his own awkwardness, Stanislaus has to find the money to take Sonja on a trip to compete with the wealthier Georg.  His attempts are whole-hearted, as he sees no problem with stealing or evading the police.  In fact, it's only in those frantic moments, jumping over roofs, that Stanislaus comes even close to his image of himself.

This complicated novel features other intriguing characters (Steffi and Sonja being two) that never play to type.  I did get confused a few times as to what was happening in the narrative: was it actual or imaginary?  Yet I'd quickly find my place in the context after a few sentences.  Written in 1918 in German, the story is timeless as a good underdog story never ages.  An excellent title for the Eastern European Reading Challenge!!!  It's part of the 'Studies in Austrian Literature, Culture, and Thought Translation Series' from Ariadne Press. 

Special thanks to Jorun with Ariadne Press for the Review Copy.

The Weather Fifteen Years Ago, Wolf Haas

Translated by Stephanie Gilardi and Thomas S. Hansen

“I think that's...pretty wonderful.  That someone even pays attention to the weather of the past. The weather is the kind of thing you’re only interested in to know it’s going to be tomorrow.”

I’ve never read a book quite like The Weather Fifteen Years Ago by Wolf Haas. It doesn’t proceed in any typical sort of narrative, but instead is simply a conversation between an author and a book reviewer. That’s it. Back and forth, chatting. Sometimes trivial, sometimes bitter, but always, back and forth. It should be boring as hell, but it’s wonderful.

When I first began the book, I wasn’t sure I could tolerate the style. Then I became hooked, on both the underlying story and the snarky conversation of the two. Over the course of several days, the reviewer and author meet and discuss different elements of the story. The reviewer questions the use of certain words and phrases, asks why characters behave as they do, and generally tries to get the author to admit to certain prejudices in the story (regarding women, national culture, etc). The author, for his part, gives new meaning to the term “unreliable narrator”, because you never really know if it’s the author Haas or a character created by Haas who is beguilingly called Hass (who happens to be an author). It’s really not as confusing as it sounds!

The book they discuss is the account of a man who is obsessed with the weather at the resort he stayed in as a child, where all kinds of influential events took place. Even as he seems to forget the place, the habit remains: he finds out the weather and keeps track. The story is told backwards, and characters are introduced randomly that fill out the plot and keep it lively. Yet, it has to be remembered…as interesting as their conversation is, there is no book for you to pick up to read. The interview is the book. It’s an entirely different way of reading, because every detail has to be discerned by direct (or offhand) comments by the speakers. It’s almost like eavesdropping on a juicy story.

And while it’s clever and witty, it’s also sort of profound. Haas describes the complexities of writing and creating characters:

“You can’t tell everything about a person and still make them appealing. People are appealing because you don’t know too much about them.”


“After all, I think that for the purposes of the book, having one defined direction is more dynamic than multiple compass points. I always say that artifice begins with symmetry.”

The reviewer tries to draw out intentions from Haas that may or may not exist, and provokes him a bit as she tries to uncover sentiments that she senses are there. Thus they discuss the ways people interpret and misconstrue plot and character elements. Essentially, this is two stories in one: the interview, and the plot of the book that you’ll never get to read. When you finish, you actually feel bummed out that you can’t go and order it immediately.

Special thanks to Ariadne Press for the Review Copy.