Review by Booklist Review
A young, unnamed woman from an unnamed country is summoned by the government for questioning regarding notes being sewn into men's suits bound for Italy. The notes say, "Marry me," and Major Albu, a smug and suspicious man, has once again called in the woman responsible for writing them.In her first-person narrative, the young woman flashes back and forth in time, describing her experiences at previous appointments, her life in a country under a terrorizing government, and the trip to her latest summons. The flashbacks, which have no sense of time or order, reveal glimpses of her past, including a beloved father whom she catches having an affair, an alcoholic husband who is scorned by fellow workers, her friend who died trying to escape the country, and Major Albu's humiliating interrogations. Muller's writing is dark and sparse, capturing the chilling reality of life in a country in turmoil. It is a gritty novel that will leave one guessing the young woman's fate long after the last page is read. --Carolyn Kubisz
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The hardships and humiliations of Communist Romania are on display in this taut novel by the winner of the European Literature Prize (Muller, author of the well-received Land of Green Plums, emigrated to Berlin after being persecuted by the Romanian secret police). The narrator, an unnamed young dress-factory worker of the post-WWII generation, has been summoned for questioning by the secret police; she has been caught sewing notes into men's suits destined for Italy, with the desperate message "marry me" along with her address. Accused of prostitution in the workplace (and told she is lucky the charge is not treason), she loses her job, and her life becomes subject to the whims of Major Albu, who summons her for random interrogation sessions. Her major preoccupation is holding on to her sanity. This is a nearly impossible feat in a society where opportunity is limited, trust is a commodity as scarce as decent food or shoe leather, and even sinister Party henchmen are shown to be trapped in a ridiculous charade. As she travels to a questioning session, the woman spools out the tale of her past: her attempt to achieve independence after a first marriage, only to hastily fall into a second one with Paul, an alcoholic who fashions illegal television antennas for the black market; and her friendship with the beautiful and doomed Lilli, a fellow factory worker. The sharp generational divide following the war and the dreadful ways in which people learn to cope with the Communist regime are threaded throughout as are some lighter moments, shaky though they may be. Appropriately disorienting and tightly wound, this perfectly controlled narrative offers a chilling picture of human adaptation and survival under oppression. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
A Romanian-born resident of Berlin, Muller, whose novel The Land of Green Plums won the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Prize, here tells the grim story of a woman repeatedly summoned by Major Albu, a government flunky intent on determining whether she is a traitor to the state. Her crime? Sewing handwritten notes into the pockets of the men's slacks she makes at her factory job, listing her name and contact information and imploring the purchaser to marry her so that she can flee the repressive Ceausescu. While the protagonist's pleas are intercepted and ineffectual, Muller's message to her readers is not. Indeed, her depiction of life in Communist Romania forces readers to feel tremendous antipathy for the repressive regime. Palpably bitter, Muller crafts a world in which alcoholism, violence, corruption, and personal betrayal are routine. As the woman's grandfather declares, "Life was wet fart, not even worth the bother of putting your shoes on." This tone permeates the book, making it both bleak and overwhelming. Still, it is recommended for public and academic libraries and for those interested in understanding the effects of government oppression. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 5/1/01.] Eleanor J. Bader, Brooklyn, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Romanian-born M|ller (The Land of Green Plums, 1996, etc.) now lives in Berlin, having successfully fled after running afoul of the Ceausescu regime. Here, she offers a grim portrait of totalitarian life's squalor and pain. A young woman has been "summoned" to appear "at ten sharp" before the greasy Major Albu for another of several interrogations-sessions that can be cruel physically and are always so emotionally. The reason? The young woman, it seems, working at the time (she's now been fired) in a factory that makes clothing for export, tucked notes-saying "marry me"-into the pockets of a number of pairs of pants destined for Italy. She would rather live in Italy? She doesn't believe in her own country? She wouldn't have been summoned at all if she'd agreed to keep sleeping with her despicable boss Nelu-who, upon rejection, trumped up tales of pants-pocket notes to France and Sweden also. To top it off, now the man she's living with, Paul, has been run off the road on his motorcycle, and his side-business of making TV aerials (so people can tune in Bulgaria) has been trashed and he's been fired from his factory job. On top of the gratuitous and frightening harassment, there's the rundown squalor of life-a row of dusty glass eyes in a pharmacy window, an apartment building called "the leaning tower" because it isn't built straight, much drunkenness, empty lots, shabby trams with no "fixed schedule." And there's the past: a first husband who out of weakness almost kills his young wife; the promiscuous best friend Lili, who, trying to flee the country, is attacked-and devoured-by dogs; grandparents sent to the camps while their land was expropriated; a sadistic father-in-law who in earlier years, as "the Perfumed Commissar," was in charge of local expropriations. Says the young woman, on her way to Major Albu (the whole novel is "told" during one tram ride), "The trick is not to go crazy." Sensitive, observant, unrelenting-and compelling.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Review by Booklist Review
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Review by Library Journal Review
Review by Kirkus Book Review
