Book Review: The Artificial Silk Girl is an account of Berlin shortly before the Nazis took over, written as the notebook (not a diary, "that's ridiculous for a trendy girl like me") entries of a woman of 18 who wants to be a star. Accordingly, the novel has no awareness of what is to come, but gives hints of the impending apocalypse seen through the eyes of one who was actually there. Our young protagonist in this picaresque tale, Doris, is both cynical and naive. Though she evinces no sympathy for the fascists, she's apolitical ("Politics poisons human relationships. I spit on it."). But she can't help but see and suffer the unemployment, poverty, hunger, and hopelessness of those times. Think a grittier, more mercenary Bridget Jones with a sharper sense of humor, or a more charming and less homicidal Lisbeth Salander; somewhere along the Jones-Salander spectrum. Doris will do whatever it takes to make her way. If the only people who still have money are men, she'll use them as they use her if she must to survive. Trying to interest a man, shes pretends to be Jewish, but he turns out to be a nationalist and hostile. When her boyfriend dumps her she "slapped his face in front of all those people, which is something I do only rarely." But her heart is not all ice: "I wanted to be with someone who can spend money at night without missing it in the morning." Her observations are cutting: he "has a tummy like a throw pillow -- I'm not sure if it's embroidered or not." She notes: "if you have money you have connections, and then you don't have to pay. You can really live on the cheap, if you're rich." And of course: "If you want to strike it lucky with men you have to let them think you're stupid." Beyond the brass, the bravado the bratwurst, there's also moments of sensitivity, as when Doris takes an elderly blind man through the Berlin streets at night describing for him all he cannot see. The Translator's Note compares The Artificial Silk Girl to "chick lit" by Sophie Kinsella or Candace Bushnell. I can see why she says that: Doris invites "all the men I had ever had a relationship with" to her opening. "I had no idea there were so many!" But Irmgard Keun (1905-1982) delves deeper and creates more, she can be grimy and unpretty. "Only if you're unhappy do you get ahead. That's why I'm glad I'm unhappy." A year after this book was published, the Nazis banned Irmgard Keun's writing and her books were burned. Bravely, she sued the Nazi regime for lost income. The Artificial Silk Girl was much better than expected and I thoroughly enjoyed it. [4★]
No comments:
Post a Comment