Noon Dorte Hansen Review

What motivates Dr. insert ginger Feddersen, 47, an archaeologist at the University of Kiel, to a sabbatical to return his childhood and youth in the place? And as it went to three decades ago in Brinkebüll, the fictional village in Geestland near Husum, where he was born and which is representative of many others of the era? Between the two time levels of action – present and seventies – jumps Dorte Hansen’s narrative back and forth and spreading a highly detailed, life-plump, colorful, thought-provoking portrait of manners

Two and a half decades, ginger Feddersen in a “dusty residential community.

” spent in Kiel Villa and finally realized that the unsorted life is not his world. How do we go with him now? He has a lot to make up, he believes. He had committed treason against his family at his home. How is it to continue with its case-term care surrogate parents, whom he affectionately calls Vadder and Mudder?

At that time prevailed in Brinkebüll clear rules.

One of them concerned the “lunch hour” in which the father when he came home from work and his lunch had been served, put on the ear to return invigorated afterwards to work. For one, two an hour sank “the stunned village” in a siesta-Rigid during which no child dared even to enter only one knarzgefährdete step.

Around it but the village life was quite turbulent, and in his focus was the old inn, the ginger grandparents Sönke and Ella Feddersen led, with brunch on Sunday, anniversaries, weddings and funerals, as they belonged to.

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The upheaval began in the summer of 1965, came to the village as three engineers to measure around the country for the land consolidation. In the whole of Germany at that time were the inherited centuries, fragmented and scattered fields redistributed created so that more economical to edit large areas.

As plausible as the concept, however difficult the consequences. The now starting radical commodification of agriculture replaced if it went well, the courts of the big farmers through agro-factories, and if it did not go well, it reduced the smaller farmers unemployed. The ex-farmers and the infrastructure migrated – the village teacher, Aunt Emma, ​​sir, the postman, the bartender and the doctor went with their clientele in the cities. Once lively village communities withered down to the hard core of the surviving agricultural manager. Left behind were flat ironed tracts of land with endless, desolate deserts field.

The surveyor left not only a Divided Brinkebüll but also a fruit of love in the body of seventeen-year-old daughter Feddersen Marret. The has always been ” verdreiht … a ball of man, matted, coiled wrong” with the pregnancy but finally by the wind. She haunts the curious scarecrow through the village, seen everywhere signs of an approaching apocalypse in the strip, write stationed near Bundeswehr Starfighter in the sky. But the villagers push one like Marret the box, it “took them out like holes in the streets.”

From her son will “Marret Ünnergang” know nothing, the grandparents why accept his and his loving inflict upon everything possible so that would “wat helped reasonably normal” out of him. had as Sönke quite naturally adopted the “Dorfkrug” from his father and spent his life behind the counter, it is clear to him that ginger will follow in his footsteps. The little “runt” but has “de Nääs in de Boker” digs “stones and broken pots” from leaving the village to graduate from school and puts down an academic career. Derlei admittedly despised Sönke and can not be explained by the way until today. “What went wrong there,”

Now Sönke is a “stubborn boulder” who, despite his 93 Lenze, osteoarthritis and a blind eye on his insists place behind the bar – all the more when he has not yet become accustomed to the world of his fraying demented Ella. Only “e-bike couple or passage grave tourists” still lost in the inn. Marvel at the green piggy Club box and dusty Wurlitzer jukebox, make a cell phone photo of the crooked, shrunken host and pat him when making payments on the shoulder, as if he were “an old circus horse”.

Every once Prof. Dr. Feddersen run on weekends from Kiel to Brinkebüll to help in the economy and in the yard. Then he sang the Neil Young CD in the car, whose whimpering sound strengthened him morally: “Do not let it bring you down”. Outside, he saw the deserted Geest, polished by glacial ice older glaciation periods prevail. “You did not have much to report here as a man. You could … against the wind shout curses … in the rain crying, it did nothing.” He loved his home, “how on a abgeliebten stuffed animal hung” and ( “sanded North faces, the profile of West Wind. Nothing stood in front, nothing stood out, they are overlooked easily.”) Its people and noticed the changes in the landscape ( giant corn fields that “solar panels or wind turbines grew”) and the way of life.

of these changing times tells the protagonist, eager commented by the authorial voice of the author. Which sends each of the 22 chapters the title of matching the content streets Hauer ahead: “Oh Lord, will not you buy me a Mercedes Benz”, “Blame it on the Bossa Nova”, “Peoples, hear the signals”, “Boy, come back soon “we sing reader with the Mute mode. Strange how us alive and with many dialectal colors heard the language in the ears, although Dorte Hansen little direct speech begins. Instead, it flows merrily bubbling, crystal-clear, colored sparkling narrative flow from the spring, which, strange village life in Brinkebüll with his gnarled, projected entrenched people “in fossiliertem Dress Style” vivid and rich in detail on our inner screen and the story of their painful losses without sentimentality in mind leads. As you can see, we do not disappear just cobbled avenue of chestnut trees, hanging in mind the strict teacher Steensen after which sought his dwarf school pupils expel the language of yokels, Low German, and looking thoughtfully at the “hooded children” in the shelter of the bus stops, as “shaken like small seed potatoes from the sandy bottom and […] so that from them something would,” dozens of kilometers to be carted to high school every day.

the image Dorte Hansen records, despite numerous Dönekes and a serene keynote deeply human and profound. Not everything is there to be simply beschmunzelt only nostalgic. Literary lasting impressive, the author writes about the subject area of ​​care and death. So fragile Sönke and Ella’s bodies have become ( “like little bundle of bones that were in old suitcases”), then both decided to fight for every day of her independence. Still, they have no choice but to help each other, to let go. Touching how hard it that for years, no contact has more felt, falls Sönke now remove his shame – “a prey animal which slowly get used to the human hand had to.” Dorte Hansen saves nothing in the scenes of daily carelessness, the large and small mishaps in which ginger supplied his grandparents, but never people lose their dignity.

What drives ginger Feddersen after Brinkebüll is not nostalgia , It is grief over the disappearance of a way of life, a culture form of peasant time that was his home. Today, the loss is more serious than ever before, and more people than ever are aware of his conscious, not only in the cities. Brinkebüll has long since dried up, but now desires again. The people of today in search of emotional recovery want Navi goals and idyllic routes for e-bike tours, and so are booming reanimated village romance and folklore imitation: meat loaf and country beer with lime trees, farm shops in decorative rotten barns, homeland novels on stream banks. The townspeople swarm of horse farms, where no one would ever think to harness the Rösslein in marches, while daughter and wives to borrow the good fortune on the backs of horses.

This book I have on the list One of my favorite books 20″