Looking Forward to 2025: Alex Roesch

19 December 2024

Translator Alex Roesch looking happy — Alex Rosch © Farideh Diehl

Having looked back at 2024’s crop of German books, we’re now doing a spot of sooth-saying with translator Alex Roesch.

As we step into 2025, German-language literature promises plenty to capture the imagination. A few upcoming titles have already caught my eye, each offering something refreshingly distinctive. From atmospheric stories set in untamed landscapes to expansive family sagas and finely drawn character studies, the year ahead looks set to deliver a compelling mix. Here’s a glimpse at four books on the horizon that, based on their manuscripts, are likely to generate plenty of conversation. It seems 2025 will be another quietly impressive year for German literature and well worth keeping an eye on.

Katharina Köller’s Wild Wuchern (Penguin) is as sharp and untamed as its mountain setting. Köller has a knack for conjuring tension out of thin air, and this novel is no exception.

Austrian playwright Katharina Köller’s second novel is an atmospheric and gripping story about family, isolation, and survival, set in the rugged Tyrolean mountains. It opens with Marie, a glamorous city-dweller from Vienna, fleeing her life in a state of panic. With nowhere else to turn, she heads to the remote mountain cabin of her cousin Johanna, whom she hasn’t seen since childhood. Their lives couldn’t be more different: while Marie has thrived in the elegance of urban life, Johanna has retreated from the world entirely, living alone among animals and wilderness.

As Marie attempts to adjust to Johanna’s harsh, ascetic way of life, the distance between them seems insurmountable. But the cabin soon becomes a pressure cooker, forcing both women to confront their pasts. We learn of Marie’s abusive husband and her flight from him, and of Johanna’s deep mistrust of people, shaped by wounds she has long kept hidden. When a violent storm strikes the mountain, their darkest secrets come to the surface, and they’re compelled to see each other – and themselves – in a new light.

Originally conceived as a two-person play (Windhöhe), which premiered in 2022, Wild Wuchern showcases Köller’s flair for taut dialogue and vivid, elemental storytelling. This is her second novel, following her award-winning debut Was ich im Wasser sah (What I Saw in the Water), and confirms her as a bold and exciting voice in contemporary Austrian literature.

Nelio Biedermann’s Lázár (Rowohlt) comes from a startlingly young author with a talent for the grand sweep of history. A debut this assured doesn’t come along often. I’ve always had a soft spot for multi-generational sagas, and Nelio Biedermann’s novel is a compelling new addition to the genre. Written by a 21-year-old Swiss author, this sweeping historical epic charts the fortunes of the Lázár family through the upheavals of 20th-century Europe. Beginning with Lajos von Lázár’s childhood on a fading aristocratic estate, the story spans three generations as the family navigates war, political turmoil, exile, and the painful decline of their legacy.

Set against the backdrop of two World Wars, the collapse of empires, and the rise of fascism and communism, the novel interweaves themes of loss, betrayal, forbidden love, and resilience. Biedermann’s writing is assured and evocative, capturing the emotional intricacies of his characters with remarkable sensitivity. His ability to blend personal and historical drama makes for an engaging and richly detailed narrative that brings the Lázárs’ story vividly to life.

Biedermann grew up on the shores of Lake Zurich and is currently studying German and Film Studies at the University of Zurich. Already a prize-winning author, he demonstrates a natural flair for storytelling and an impressively mature approach to his craft.

Joachim B. Schmidt’s Ósmann (Diogones) is as windswept and elemental as the Icelandic coast itself. Schmidt’s prose doesn’t just capture the landscape – it becomes part of it.

Set against the stark and mystical backdrop of Iceland, Ósmann is a mesmerising tale of one man’s extraordinary life. Schmidt, a Swiss-born author who has made Iceland his home, draws deeply on the country’s landscapes and folklore to tell the story of Jón Magnússon Ósmann, a ferryman whose life teeters between the mythical and the harsh realities of his rugged environment.

Jón’s days revolve around the water, ferrying people and goods, hunting seals, and battling the unpredictable forces of nature. A man of contradictions, he is gregarious yet devout, a poet and a drinker, generous to the poor but shaped by a life of toil. Yet as the tides turn against him, Jón is forced to confront challenges that threaten to overwhelm him, in both body and spirit. Schmidt combines human vulnerability with the timeless pull of myth, crafting a narrative that feels as vast and untamed as the Icelandic landscape itself.

Having emigrated to Iceland in 2007, Schmidt has become known for his atmospheric, immersive storytelling. With Ósmann, he delivers a deeply resonant story of struggle, resilience, and the enduring power of human connection.

Lastly, Tommie Goerz’s Im Schnee (Piper) is a masterclass in restraint, spinning a quiet tale of loss and memory that lingers long after you’ve closed the book.

Set against the snow-covered beauty of Bavaria, Im Schnee is a tender meditation on friendship, loss, and the passage of time. In a small village nestled in the mountains of Upper Franconia, Max, an 80-year-old widower, leads a solitary life in his sparse house by the railway line. With only a wood stove for warmth and no modern distractions, his days are spent in quiet reflection. As winter settles over the village, Max finds himself grieving the recent death of his lifelong friend, Schorsch. Determined to honour his memory, he sets out to do so in his own way, and through his reflections, we are drawn into a poignant exploration of companionship, community, and nostalgia.

This tender novella marks Goerz’s second foray into literary fiction after his highly regarded debut, Im Tal (2023). At just 159 pages, Im Schnee is modest in scope but brimming with atmosphere, vividly evoking the rhythms of small-village life and the quiet beauty of a Bavarian winter. While steeped in the customs and culture of its setting, its themes of human connection and change are universal. Goerz’s understated, lyrical style invites readers into an intimate, reflective world that lingers long after the story ends.

Alexandra Roesch is a bicultural, bilingual freelance translator and literary scout based in Frankfurt, Germany. An experienced translator of fiction and nonfiction, she has an MA in translation from the University of Bristol and was longlisted for the 2018 Helen & Kurt Wolff Translator’s Prize.

Best German Books 2024: Annie Rutherford

12 December 2024

Translator Annie Rutherford smiling in dark clothes in front of a sea wall with a Poseidon graffito — Annie Rutherford © Lou McCurdy

Continuing our annual series of translators on their favourite reads of the year, here is Annie Rutherford.

Isabel Bogdan: Wohnverwandtschaften

One of the things I love about Isabel Bogdan’s writing (which I, err, have spent quite a bit of time with – see The Peacock) is the way Isa draws her characters – endearing, slightly silly, full of quirks and contradictions – and above all how the relationships between these characters emerge and grow. So I was really excited when I heard the premise of her latest novel, Wohnverwandtschaften, in which four very different flatmates become something like found family. (I’m still puzzling over how I’d translate that pun of a title – Kiepenheuer & Witch’s foreign rights’ department have gone with The Four of Us.)

And oh, it is so lovely! And so heartfelt! And so sad but joyful but heart-wrenching but beautiful! (Isa, I have not yet forgiven you for that ending. Marketing team at K&W: your blurb did not prepare me.) You could be forgiven, I think, for underestimating this book when you start it – it begins gently, with short chapters, low stakes and Loriot references a plenty. But at its bold, beautiful, generous heart, Wohnverwandtschaften explores the questions which so many of us are grappling with at the moment: how do we build the communities of care that we want to live in? What if the way we want to live looks different to the image we’d always bought into? How do we care for each other for better, for worse, in sickness and in health when we aren’t partners or family – when, that is, neither society nor the state recognises the love that connects us?

Stefanie vor Schulte, tr. Alexandra Roesch: Boy with a Black Rooster

It’s always a delight when a book you’ve been wanting to read for ages proves to be just as good as you’d hoped it might be. I heard about Boy with a Black Rooster a good couple of years ago, when it was showcased by New Books in German, and was instantly sold on the premise: a fairy tale for adults with a child with a heart of gold, a wicked princess and, of course, a quest. I finally got my hands on a copy of the book this summer, when it came out in Alexandra Roesch’s evocative translation, and I devoured it in one afternoon sitting, curled up with a blanket and a hot chocolate.

The book follows Martin, the aforementioned gold-hearted child and one of the few characters to be granted a name, as he travels through a war-torn pseudo-medieval land, on the hunt for the children who have been going missing from villages. His meandering, often interrupted quest has hints of Hans Christian Anderson and Angela Carter. This is not, to be clear, an entirely happy tale (what true fairy tale is?), but – evocative, dreamlike and immersive – it gives the reader all the satisfaction of a really good story, beautifully told.

A writer, translator and project leader, Annie Rutherford makes things with words and champions poetry and translated literature in all its guises. Her current projects include Que(e)ry Points, a psychogeography walk about queerness, disability and landscape in Dorothy Wordsworth and Annette von Droste Hülshoff. She translates mostly from German, as well as from French, Russian and Belarusian. Her published translations include collections by poets Nora Gomringer and Volha Hapeyeva, as well as Isabel Bogdan’s novel The Peacock. She is currently translating Annette von Droste Hülshoff’s novella, The Jew’s Beech.

Alexandra Roesch’s German Books of the Year

5 January 2024

Next up in our series of translators’ tips from the wealth of German books in 2023 is the translator and literary scout Alex Roesch.

German literature in 2023 has proven to be a year dominated by the distinct voices of talented women. My top picks offer up a trio of perspectives on life, identity and resilience written by women, and a fourth rather unusual title for good measure by a male author.

First up is Maike Wetzel’s Schwebende Brücken (Schöffling), a story that captivated me from the first page and stuck with me as the most poignant read of the year. The story, set in contemporary Berlin, unfolds during a family outing to a local lake that takes a tragic turn, leaving a grieving woman alone with two children. Wetzel’s writing skillfully captures the rollercoaster of emotions that life throws at us, with death lingering in the background. Her prose is a masterclass in revealing the extraordinary in the everyday, making it a deep dive into beauty, love and resilience. A beautifully crafted read.

Next on the list is Deborah Feldman’s Judenfetisch (PRH), a memoir from the New York-born author renowned for her autobiographical work, Unorthodox, which has been adapted into a popular Netflix series. This latest memoir extends Feldman’s introspective journey, tracing her evolution from a rigid religious Chassidic community in Williamsburg to a renewed connection with Judaism in the vibrant landscape of Berlin. Navigating the complex terrain of Jewish identity in Germany, the memoir explores profound themes of authenticity, power dynamics, and the pervasive influence of societal perceptions on individuals and communities, always accompanied by the author’s distinct voice. The narrative offers keen insights into the challenges Jews face in Germany, unravelling intricate nuances that shape their experience. Feldman’s critical view of financial support to Jewish communities in Germany peels back nuanced layers, questioning its impact on authentic community development. ‘Judenfetisch’ isn’t just a personal narrative; it’s a no-nonsense exploration of modern identity and belief systems.

My third choice is a historical fiction novel set in the landscape of Theodor Storm’s Schimmelreiter in North Germany. This one is perfectly aligned with the current season with its themes of witchcraft, storm surges and the formidable power of nature. Jarka Kubsova’s Marschlande (Fischer Verlag) tells the intertwined stories of two women – Abelke Bleken in 1580 and modern-day geographer Britta Stoever. Set against the backdrop of the Hamburg marshlands, the novel weaves the tapestry of these women’s lives, reflecting on the evolution of feminism and persistent challenges across centuries. Abelke, who manages a farm on her own in the 1580s, stands as a symbol of resilience; this is mirrored by Britta’s contemporary struggles as she leaves her career for domestic life in the same marshlands and faces challenges that resonate with the struggles of her historical counterpart. Marschlande is a fascinating exploration of history, nature and female empowerment, which also touches upon some deep emotions.

A final rather unusual recommendation is the astonishing, comic and unparalleled novel Der Vorweiner (Ullstein) by Bov Bjerg, which depicts life in the remnants of Europe in the late 21^st century. This is a bold, unconventional novel that makes a riveting read. The world we once knew has ceased to exist, leaving behind parts of Europe shielded by a colossal concrete barrier. Resettlement camps house migrants from all corners of the globe, strictly prohibited from entering the continent unless selected. The story revolves around two main characters, A for Anna and B for Berta, a mother-daughter duo. It all begins with A for Anna’s decision to hire a ‘Crier,’ a professional mourner who will lament her death. In a society where tears have become a lost art, people employ migrant workers to live with them and assume the role of mourners, as shedding tears is considered prestigious and carries social status.

This novel really is an extraordinary and intriguing piece of literature. The dystopian backdrop, characterised by extreme climate conditions and a soulless society, is juxtaposed with a darkly humorous depiction of events, offering a refreshing break from the current overly sensitive cultural climate. Der Vorweiner is a captivating read that shocks and delights in equal measure.