RexLegendi reviewed Kreupelhout by Esther Kinsky
Easy-paced contemplation
3 stars
Grove by German author Esther Kinsky (1956) is a contemplative, easy-paced narrative reminiscent of Everyday Madness by Lisa Appignanesi or Flights by Olga Tokarczuk. Perhaps worried readers wouldn’t recognise its genre, the publisher found it necessary to label it a ‘field novel’ – a marketing trick I am happy to disregard.
Centred on a woman retreating to the Italian countryside after her husband’s death, Kinsky structures the story into three parts. In the first, the narrator primarily observes the village of Olevano and its surroundings. I was particularly struck by her perception of immigrant communities integrated into traditional Italian life. The observations never lead to judgments, though they remain on the surface – an effect inherent to the outsider’s perspective. In the second part, the narrator reflects on memories from her youth with her father, especially their holidays in Italy. (Here, I couldn’t help but think of Strangers I Know …
Grove by German author Esther Kinsky (1956) is a contemplative, easy-paced narrative reminiscent of Everyday Madness by Lisa Appignanesi or Flights by Olga Tokarczuk. Perhaps worried readers wouldn’t recognise its genre, the publisher found it necessary to label it a ‘field novel’ – a marketing trick I am happy to disregard.
Centred on a woman retreating to the Italian countryside after her husband’s death, Kinsky structures the story into three parts. In the first, the narrator primarily observes the village of Olevano and its surroundings. I was particularly struck by her perception of immigrant communities integrated into traditional Italian life. The observations never lead to judgments, though they remain on the surface – an effect inherent to the outsider’s perspective. In the second part, the narrator reflects on memories from her youth with her father, especially their holidays in Italy. (Here, I couldn’t help but think of Strangers I Know by Claudia Durastanti.) Finally, the narrator returns to the present, now in the Emilia-Romagna region.
The narrative is somewhat mellow, mirroring the mood of a woman dealing with loss. Despite some beautiful reflections, I did have two reservations. First, the memories felt too personal. I often wondered why they would be of interest to others. Second, the image of an older woman aimlessly wandering around, taking care of dead birds, comes across as a little clichéd. That said, Grove offers plenty of substance to make it a worthwhile read.
