About half of the blurbs from the press release for Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman refer to Friedrich Christian Delius’ new book as “a masterpiece.” The renowned German author has won most of his country’s prestigious literary awards and must be used to critical acclaim, but anyone who is not familiar with his work must be wondering how such a small book can be worthy of such great praise. After all, the “small masterpiece” takes place in a single afternoon, and the entire plot can be described as a pregnant twenty-one year old German woman walking through Rome to attend a concert in a church during the fourth year of World War Two. The first thing a reader might notice is Delius’ peculiar style; the book contains exactly one period – at the end of the novel. There are no chapters, and each small paragraph begins with a lower case letter. Delius’ new novella, however, is not an incomprehensible experiment in post-modernism. Rather, it is a beautiful meditation on contrast, written in the form of an epic, with equally clear and entrancing language.
The young woman has moved from the Baltic coast of Germany to join her husband Gert in Rome, but after only nine days together, her husband is redeployed to the African front, leaving his pregnant wife alone to wander the Eternal City, buying baby clothes, writing letters, and taking walks. Many topics swirl in the young woman’s mind as she walks through the “labyrinth of the past,” but most have to do with the clash of Christian cultures. She doesn’t understand the “Catholic, wantonly, beautiful excess” found all over the city, and finds comfort in her thoughts of Luther and Germany’s modest Protestantism. Her father was a traveling preacher, and her husband is also a theologian, so it is not surprising that she considers faith her protection, and scripture her guide. She is the epitome of a good Christian; simple, humble, non-judgmental. She believes it is “un-Christian to shed tears for one’s own misfortune and to forget the far greater misfortune of others,” considering herself “very lucky” that none of her relatives have yet died in the war, and that she is living in a city that, due to its sacred history, no country is willing to bomb. She lives “on a German island in the middle of Rome,” where the Germans act “as if they were the masters here, not the guests.” She is mortified when a well-dressed Italian man grabs her ass, and is later told that this sort of thing happens more often in Catholic countries. Delius also brings a sardonic perspective on Italians, noting that when the war was young, the Italians were enthusiastic, but now that “there was no coffee left in Rome,” the Italians want the war to end.
As a German, the young woman is also confused by the contradictions of fascism and Christianity. How can she surrender herself to her fatherland if she is supposed to surrender herself only to God? How can she worship the fuhrer, if she is supposed to only worship Jesus? How can a Nazi soldier’s belt buckle feature the words GOD WITH US above an eagle on a swastika, when the Nazi’s racial theories contradict the Christian “obligations of humility and brotherly love”? She’s also disturbed by the lack of affection allowed in public, commenting that “the fascists wanted to be exceptionally decent people, and they did not tolerate anything as indecent as kisses or laughter.” Though she is confused and conflicted between “the cross of the Church and the crooked cross of the swastika,” she considers these thoughts dangerous, and keeps them to herself, since “on her own she could not work out what you were allowed and not allowed to say, what you should think and what you ought not to think.” These delicately delivered observations are what makes Delius’s new book a delight to read, and the young woman a lovable character.
In its essence, Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman is a condemnation of war. Though Delius’ naïve protagonist does not encounter blood and death, she knows that war brings a loss of personal liberty. Though she wants to be an obedient German, her mind rebels against blind patriotism because “feelings were forbidden in wartime, you were not allowed to rejoice with happiness, you had to swallow your sadness, and like a soldier you were forced to conceal the language of the heart.” There are “just too many laws and regulations” during war, she thinks, and for what? In a time of war, people have to put up with a lack of food and basic necessities, like soap, not to mention coffee and other common-place luxuries. Besides, the war-time mentality imposed upon citizens is simply delusional; humans are not designed to show no weakness, as Hitler demands, and humans do not want to hate each other, even though Mussolini commands Italians to hate their enemies. Then there is the thought that she puts off as long as she can: the possibility of her husband’s death. For a moment, she’s not sure if her innocent positivity can protect her from reality, and the cathedral of her thoughts threatens to come crashing down.
Through his simple-hearted character, Delius is able to tell an old maxim – war is stupid – in a freshly poetic way, which is why Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman is certain to win him more awards, and be declared a masterpiece by many more readers.
Translated from the German by Jamie Bulloch
FSG February 2012
