RexLegendi reviewed Nastja's tranen by Natascha Wodin
Behind the cleaner - a Ukrainian immigrant in Germany
3 stars
She Came from Mariupol by Natascha Wodin (1945) is one of those books that put a face to a gruesome chapter of history. While I wasn’t entirely convinced by her writing style, the subject matter left a lasting impression on me – enough to prompt me to pick up her 2021 novel, Nastja’s tranen, which has yet to be translated into English. In this novel, the German author recounts the story of her former housekeeper-turned-friend Nastja, who was once an engineer for Kyiv’s Urban Planning Department.
Ze moest nu vaak aan De broers Karamazov van Dostojevski denken, aan het gesprek tussen de grootinquisiteur en Christus, die voor de tweede keer op aarde was gekomen om de mensen vrijheid te brengen, en voor de tweede keer ter dood veroordeeld was, want nooit is er voor de mens en de menselijke samenleving iets onverdraaglijkers geweest dan vrijheid, aldus de grootinquisiteur. Was …
She Came from Mariupol by Natascha Wodin (1945) is one of those books that put a face to a gruesome chapter of history. While I wasn’t entirely convinced by her writing style, the subject matter left a lasting impression on me – enough to prompt me to pick up her 2021 novel, Nastja’s tranen, which has yet to be translated into English. In this novel, the German author recounts the story of her former housekeeper-turned-friend Nastja, who was once an engineer for Kyiv’s Urban Planning Department.
Ze moest nu vaak aan De broers Karamazov van Dostojevski denken, aan het gesprek tussen de grootinquisiteur en Christus, die voor de tweede keer op aarde was gekomen om de mensen vrijheid te brengen, en voor de tweede keer ter dood veroordeeld was, want nooit is er voor de mens en de menselijke samenleving iets onverdraaglijkers geweest dan vrijheid, aldus de grootinquisiteur. Was dat zo? Was zij, Nastja, nu voor het eerst in haar leven vrij? Betekende de vrijheid waarnaar ze zo had gesnakt dan dat je niet meer beschermd werd, dat jij niemand meer kon schelen, dat het voor niemand meer een rol speelde of jij in leven bleef of doodging?
Nastja’s story is intense and, while unique, exemplary for the experiences of many others fleeing poverty and living in illegality. I found it particularly disturbing to read about those who intentionally profit from people in such distress. In her search for a way to survive for herself and her loved ones, Nastja is tossed around like a rag doll. Her introverted attitude somewhat reminded me of Leïla Slimani’s nanny in Chanson douce. Occasionally, there is room for some wit. After her German husband’s death – a relation of financial abuse – Nastja is quick to brush off his call girls:
‘Achim niet thuis,’ zei ze met haar zware Russische accent, ‘maar ik heb zijn telefoon.’ Vervolgens gaf ze de hoorbaar frivool gestemde dames het nummer van de uitvaartonderneming.
Wodin has a sixth sense for uncovering compelling stories that delve deep into the human condition. Unfortunately, her writing itself isn’t that great. In both novels, the author provides extensive detail, as though she is more intent on documenting everything than crafting a story with literary merit. Whenever the narrative reaches a peak, it’s usually due to Nastja rather than Wodin’s prose. I found the last chapter engaging, though, where she reflects on her own relation with Nastja.
