Sand

Wolfgang Herrndorf · ★★★

It didn't help that the big, famously inscrutable twist was for some fluke of insight, not a twist at all for me, but despite all its praise I just couldn't get into this book. The opening half is so funny and intriguing only to be dissolved in the second half, and by dissolved I mean really dissembled, frayed, cast in every direction seemingly without purpose. Maybe this was part of the point from an author who didn't think book reviews should include spoilers (I happen to agree on that point) but what it really felt like in my intuitive reader-heart, was that the writer was angry and bitter and he wanted to destroy with his questions more than offer anything with answers. Here's a quote from him on Sand, translated by Google: "This is a novel taken from the genre of the 'idiot novel,' so actually a thriller, set in the desert in 1972. 'idiot novel' in the sense that the Arabs are all stupid, lazy, and smelly; the Europeans are arrogant racists and pedophiles; the Americans torture everyone who gets in their way. And, of course, the Jews are behind it all. These are the characters in this book, and the plot reflects that. It deals with the really big issues, it deals with secret services, it deals with the atomic bomb." Mean-spirited to say the least. Okay, but this is the NYRB, surely they are gatekeeping a fine piece of literature that I must meet more than expect to meet me, right? I'm really not sure. The Afterword written by Michael Maar is bafflingly counterproductive. Obviously, I am but one opinion in a sea of good readerly opinions but perhaps my tolerance for pessimism has a lower threshold than is required to receive anything from this work.