First the natural disasters come, then people can no longer cry. Bov Bjerg’s extraordinary new novel contains a disturbing warning for us all.
Is this the world that awaits us? The scenario that Bov Bjerg creates is definitely scary. In “The Vorweiner” he describes a humanity shattered by civil wars and natural disasters, which has become jaded and lacking in empathy due to its constant struggle for survival. What remains are emotional wrecks that replace personal connections with purely purpose-oriented services.
Of course, “The Vorweiner” is a lurid, ludicrous dystopia. The worrying thing, however, is that one always reads the present subliminally and, despite its grotesque distortions and exaggerations, the novel can be understood as a serious, bitter criticism of current conditions.
The action takes place at the end of the 21st century. Due to rising sea levels, most countries have submerged; only the rest of Europe was able to save itself as a rump continent with a meter-high concrete platform. It is the destination of millions of refugees who are stranded in the Neulübeck and Neuschwanstein reception camps. Life is extreme in the rest of Europe too. The eastern part with New Berlin is a desolate steppe on which a merciless sun shines down from an eternally blue sky. The western part with Neuhamburg sinks into constant rain against a sky in depressing shades of gray.
Artificially stiffened lips
Society is deeply divided. There is a small upper class that has outsourced all emotions and work to the “lower class”. She is despised for her directness, her rude manners and her loud laughter. The upper class, on the other hand, has an artificially stiffened lip as a sign of their distinction. Instead of laughing, she can only chatter her teeth. Maintaining composure is her highest goal in life.
Grief work is also outsourced because one should “always keep grief and private life separate.” So-called Vorweiners, mourning guest workers who are hired from refugees from the vanished countries, are responsible for the mourning. The quality of the previous singers, their performance, brings prestige to the deceased. In the story, 70-year-old Anna hires a homeless Dutchman as a pre-teen and tries to build a bond with him. But things turn out very differently than expected.
Daughter Berta lives in another city, completely estranged from her mother. She earns her money as a “click hunter” and “filler producer” for an agency with sensationalist, malicious “hit news” that she largely invents. When a young pizza delivery boy comes into her life, something like romantic love briefly seems to flare up, but in the end even that remains an illusion.
The laughter gets stuck in your throat
The story is macabre, strange, even cruel, but in any case very original. The narrative style is reminiscent of a film script, focusing on Anna, then Berta and back again. In between, the “God’s Eye” takes on scenic descriptions as a kind of camera. The chapters are introduced by bizarre headings, which are complemented by sarcastic trigger warnings such as “canned pineapples, sexual content”, “swear words, long-life milk”. Bjerg, who became known through the novels “Auerhaus” and “Serpentines”, is a language artist who comes up with numerous creative creations, such as dispersal ceremony (funeral ceremony), exit companion (person who deports refugees), mainstream media, solar bread stones, etc.
He always manages to come up with funny images and ideas, such as when he describes Switzerland as a country ruined by “gold rot”. Austria, on the other hand, imploded after “officially legitimized nepotism was extended to fifth cousins.” However, in the end you’ll find yourself laughing in your throat, the message is too serious and the reflection the author holds up to us is too disturbing.
– Bov Bjerg: The Vorweiner, Claassen Verlag, Munich, 240 pages, 24.00 euros, ISBN 978-3-546-10038-0.