The second youth novel by Kyra Groh “My life as a lexical gap” is designed as a love story. Sixteen-year-old Jule, who describes herself as a “feminist. Activist. Vegan” on her Instagram account and is politically active with her clique, meets Ben, an introverted outsider who wants to study medicine in order to feel closer to his father he never met.
The venue for getting to know each other, first kissing and being together is Frankfurt – the Edeka market at Jules Schule, the falafel stand Aroma, the Café Adorno. The chapters alternately provide information about what happened from Jule and Ben’s point of view. First love is closely linked to questions about one’s own identity and freedom from cramped family structures. Jule and Ben experience the phase of transition from childhood to adulthood as an ordeal and a family crisis. You learn to formulate your own needs and values and try to realize them. “To stand up for something is work. Every day. Not only at demos and in the voting booth.”
Jule wishes to be as self-confident as her favorite blogger Zeynep, who has the motto: “If you keep your mouth shut day in and day out, you shouldn’t complain that the world is getting shitty and shitty.” At first, Jule is far from such statements. Her father dominates the family atmosphere with his “Everything was better in the past” volleys. Jule is intimidated by his way of labeling foreigners and those who think differently. She doesn’t dare to stand by her veganism and her enthusiasm for the Fridays for Future movement. She prefers to avoid the discussion, does not want to be labeled a climate hysteric – it is “easier to do things in secret than to speak out”. But when her brother joins a right-wing radical group, her desire and courage grow: “I want to be loud. I want to disturb.”
When Ben meets Jule, there is a conflict
Ben has other problems to contend with. The lack of self-confidence not only has to do with the lack of friends, but also with his American father, whose name enabled him to attend an international school, but who otherwise remained a phantom. Added to this is the lack of space at home: the high school graduate shares a two-room apartment with his mother. He is the center of her life, which is otherwise shaped by Catholicism. He has been delaying moving out for studies since this future planning triggered a nervous breakdown in his mother. She does not want to admit that he no longer believes in God and only prays for her sake. When Ben meets Jule, there is a conflict.
Kyra Groh stages youth as a disruptive potential that questions the existing and wants to realize new ideals. This can be impressively demonstrated by Generation Z, who distinguish themselves from previous generations with their commitment to climate protection. What irritates is the didactic impetus that is put into the mouth of the individual voices by injecting comments and evaluations here and there. The fact that Jules’ older brother is in tears with regrets about his misstep and that Jule tries to explain the world to her parents seems exaggerated. “I don’t want you to be the kind of people who are okay with inciting foreigners. Only Nazis inciting foreigners.” (from 13 years)
Kyra Groh: My life as a lexical gap. Arctis Verlag 2021. 450 pages, 18 euros.