Genre: Literary Fiction, Historical
Published: Riverhead Books, September 2024, Originally published by Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2022.
Translation: Antonia Lloyd-Jones (Polish > English)
My Rating: 4/5 stars
I went into this book with equal parts trepidation and intimidation. Go sharpen the pitchforks already, because I’m starting this review with an unpopular opinion: I hated Flights. I also struggled a lot with Der Zauberberg by Thomas Mann. So picking up Olga Tocarczuk’s “feminist answer to Der Zauberberg” was bound to be a recipe for disaster right?
And yet, I devoured it. Poignant, self-aware, and penned and translated with incredible care and skill (let’s give some credits to Antonia Lloyd-Jones here too): The Empusium quite brilliant.
The Story:
In September 1913, Mieczysław, a student suffering from tuberculosis, arrives at Wilhelm Opitz's Guesthouse for Gentlemen, a health resort in Görbersdorf, what is now western Poland. Every day, its residents gather in the dining room to imbibe the hallucinogenic local liqueur, to obsess over money and status, and to discuss the great issues of the day: Will there be war? Monarchy or democracy? Do devils exist? Are women inherently inferior?
Meanwhile, disturbing things are beginning to happen in the guesthouse and its surroundings. As stories of shocking events in the surrounding highlands reach the men, a sense of dread builds.
What I loved:
Plenty of reviewers have already sung this novel’s praises, and I have to agree with them on almost all of their major points. Well-researched, erudite, and incredibly aware of its place in history and literature, this is one of those quintessential “Nobel Price-coded books”, that is almost more of an intellectual think piece of its time, than a piece of entertainment. I don’t mean that as a compliment, nor an deterrent, just as a descriptor of what you can expect.
I personally loved the way Tocarczuk engages with the literary canon that came before her. Most obvious are the parallels with Thomas Mann’s work, but she weaves in a lot of sentiments from classically celebrated historical men through the paradigms expressed by the men in her Kurhaus. (sources for the real historical men on whom these were based are in the appendix, which I really appreciated too) As a product of their times, these are distinctly misogynist/classist/etc, scientifically invalid and infuriating.
In contrast to many modern feminist novels, Tocarczuk never literally debunks or counters these statements. You won’t find any direct-to-reader-commentary or quotable feminist slogans in here. On the contrary: if you were to take a bunch of these passages out of context, you might be fooled into thinking this novel was written by a very misogynistic person themselves… The power in Tocarczuk criticism lies in her contextualization of these sayings. We see how ridiculous and pathetic these characters and their views are through context-clues. It’s the ultimate “show, don’t tell”, and I think it works brilliantly here.
Overall, a lot of this novel is implicit; from its messages to its lingering horror. I personally loved the way this element was handled. She slowly builds a sense of dread throughout the first 40%, mostly through her use of the omniscient female-plural narrator, telling our story. The men in the Kurhaus feel watched from the woods, and through our narrator, we know this to be true. Maybe the slow-build goes on a little too long, as I’ll come to in my next section, but the pay-off in the end made for a nice shake-up.
Speaking of the ending; the “twist” may be a little divisive. Throughout Tocarczuk gets you excited for a big comeuppance for the detestable characters, as you might be used to in a typical horror-novel. Although that ís present, it might be a little short and disappointing to some readers. Secondly, there’s a twist regarding a part of our protagonists identity, which I personally found brilliantly done, but won’t work for everyone. Funnily enough, I’ve critiqued this specific twist in other books before, but in this case, because of the context, subtlety and understated way it’s done, it worked and completely reframed the whole narrative before for me.
What I didn’t love:
The book suffers from a very significant case of “middle-book-sag”. Between the ca 40% and 85% mark, it just treads water, and becomes repetitive to the point where I actually considered a DNF. It’s not just a case of “slower pacing”, it’s the repetition that undercuts the strength of the messages the author is conveying. The first liquor-fueled quasi-philosophical discussions these so-called-intellectual men have in the woods are a powerful demonstration of their character. The 5th time around, I found myself thinking “We get it Olga”. They’re misogynistic pricks, and they’re about to get their comeuppance: the set-up is complete, now move on with it.
This “sag” was significant enough for me to take away a full star from my rating, despite the quality of the rest of the book. Had about a 100 pages been cut from the middle, this would’ve been a near perfect book for me.
Overall, I’m so happy I gave Tocarczuk another chance. This is a novel I’d highly recommend, provided that you know what you’re getting into. Despite its labeling as “horror” and “feminist”; don’t expect your typical genre-fiction with flashy gore and/or quotable positive messaging. If you’re in the market for a good literary fiction to mull over yourself, or even with a book-club: you can’t go wrong here.
You can find this book here on Goodreads.
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