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2.42k reviews for:
The Wall by Haushofer, Marlen (2013) Paperback
Marlen Haushofer, Marlen Haushofer
4.05 AVERAGE
2.42k reviews for:
The Wall by Haushofer, Marlen (2013) Paperback
Marlen Haushofer, Marlen Haushofer
4.05 AVERAGE
reflective
sad
Wow. I get that not every book is for every reader, but I am surprised by those who dnf or say it was a slog to get through. This book is now high up on my all time favorites list! Maybe it has to do with the simple fact that I can see so much of myself in the MC and that I would hope I could do what she did in the end, even knowing I probably couldn't. This book is heartbreaking in the best way. I will say I am a little annoyed at the end, because where did that man come from two years later? How/where did he survive?
Other than that, loved it. Despite the heartache.
Other than that, loved it. Despite the heartache.
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I started this expecting a typical dystopian novel, and while it technically fits that category, it's really more of a survival story - a robinsonade. The narrator is completely alone and has to figure out how to survive while abandoning everything she was taught about being a woman. There are some interesting ideas about gender roles and how society shapes us, but they get buried under all the day-to-day survival details.
The book reads like a catalog: I did this, then I did that, then I did this other thing. The animals were charming, but the novel never really builds any tension or urgency. This feels like a product of its time—a post-war, 1960s feminism kind of book. Maybe that's why it didn't click for me.
Aside from one scene near the end, it never felt particularly unsettling or thought-provoking. I pretty much forgot about it as soon as I finished reading. If I learned more about the historical context, I might appreciate it more, but on its own it just felt flat.
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
There is no way this book would ever find a publisher in 2020.
There's very little you could describe as plot – an unnamed narrator goes to sleep, then wakes up to discover that she is, possibly, the only surviving human on Earth, surrounded by an invisible wall. It isn't until the end that she finds out she wasn't entirely correct… and that humans are never done with killing.
The rest of the novel (is this even the right classification?) consists either of long, sometimes tedious, always incredibly realistic depictions of one woman trying to survive with no other company but the animals she feels responsible for, and meditations on her past life. Out of all the riches in the human world that she'll never have, the only one that she truly needs and dreads running out of are matches. Neither her name nor her face matter to anybody anymore; the animals don't care what she is wearing or how shiny her hair is.
If you were to find yourself the only surviving person after what could have been nuclear holocaust or not, how important would the number of your Instagram followers or the brand of the car you have no use for be? While struggling and failing to preserve meat, or fearing that your crop of potatoes simply won't be enough, would you find yourself crying over the unavailability of kale smoothies?
The novel's narrator insists that she's writing "a report" and that's how it reads, notes from a life lived alone, free from lies we tell to each other or to ourselves. The losses are foreshadowed so far in advance that, having fallen in love with each of the narrator's companions, I dread the pages that will bring their demise. The Wall, among so many other things, proves that love is one of the things we never run out of; no four-star restaurants with the lights dimmed or rings made of materials that we randomly decided to put high value on are needed to love a cat or a cow.
Occasionally, the narrator's monologue turns bitter. It isn't when she talks about the difficulties she had to overcome to survive, but when her thoughts turn towards her past, her children, being a woman in a society that doesn't particularly value women once they fulfil their domestic tasks, especially once they're past their "prime," i.e. no longer attractive enough to keep the attention of men. The only age-related worries the narrator has left are related to her physical fitness in a world where she can't call for help, recharge her phone, complain about the gas bill being too high, get medical help if she were to break a leg or develop an infection.
The report ends when the narrator runs out of paper, but her life continues, ever the same, ever-changing… until one day it, too, will end. The narrator doesn't seem incredibly concerned anymore, mostly worrying about the well-being of her animals. Other reviewers called The Wall a meditation on human nature, some see it as feminist, some as a depiction of depression. I'm not the biggest fan of humankind and perhaps this is why I found myself relating to the narrator much more than is, probably, healthy. In the Covid world, where the most important possessions for the apocalypse turned out to be toilet paper and guns to defend it from our neighbours, how much does any of us actually care for others? How many matches do you have at home right now?
Apart from the book's beauty, I can't imagine how Haushofer managed to complete the immense amount of research she needed to write this book and somehow combine tedious descriptions of feeding her cow and caring for the cat. The superficially emotionless "report" is an emotional rollercoaster much more brutal and intense than any romance, real or fictional, could be. If any other book like The Wall exists (Stephen King's variation on it excluded), I am yet to find it – as overused as the phrase seems to be, I have never read anything quite like it.
Gods, I wish I knew how to write a review that would do The Wall justice, because this isn't it. Maybe because I'm still immersed in the nameless, faceless narrator's world, wondering how long I would survive in her situation, where no reviews would ever be necessary again. Only food, water, love… and matches.
There's very little you could describe as plot – an unnamed narrator goes to sleep, then wakes up to discover that she is, possibly, the only surviving human on Earth, surrounded by an invisible wall. It isn't until the end that she finds out she wasn't entirely correct… and that humans are never done with killing.
The rest of the novel (is this even the right classification?) consists either of long, sometimes tedious, always incredibly realistic depictions of one woman trying to survive with no other company but the animals she feels responsible for, and meditations on her past life. Out of all the riches in the human world that she'll never have, the only one that she truly needs and dreads running out of are matches. Neither her name nor her face matter to anybody anymore; the animals don't care what she is wearing or how shiny her hair is.
If you were to find yourself the only surviving person after what could have been nuclear holocaust or not, how important would the number of your Instagram followers or the brand of the car you have no use for be? While struggling and failing to preserve meat, or fearing that your crop of potatoes simply won't be enough, would you find yourself crying over the unavailability of kale smoothies?
The novel's narrator insists that she's writing "a report" and that's how it reads, notes from a life lived alone, free from lies we tell to each other or to ourselves. The losses are foreshadowed so far in advance that, having fallen in love with each of the narrator's companions, I dread the pages that will bring their demise. The Wall, among so many other things, proves that love is one of the things we never run out of; no four-star restaurants with the lights dimmed or rings made of materials that we randomly decided to put high value on are needed to love a cat or a cow.
Occasionally, the narrator's monologue turns bitter. It isn't when she talks about the difficulties she had to overcome to survive, but when her thoughts turn towards her past, her children, being a woman in a society that doesn't particularly value women once they fulfil their domestic tasks, especially once they're past their "prime," i.e. no longer attractive enough to keep the attention of men. The only age-related worries the narrator has left are related to her physical fitness in a world where she can't call for help, recharge her phone, complain about the gas bill being too high, get medical help if she were to break a leg or develop an infection.
The report ends when the narrator runs out of paper, but her life continues, ever the same, ever-changing… until one day it, too, will end. The narrator doesn't seem incredibly concerned anymore, mostly worrying about the well-being of her animals. Other reviewers called The Wall a meditation on human nature, some see it as feminist, some as a depiction of depression. I'm not the biggest fan of humankind and perhaps this is why I found myself relating to the narrator much more than is, probably, healthy. In the Covid world, where the most important possessions for the apocalypse turned out to be toilet paper and guns to defend it from our neighbours, how much does any of us actually care for others? How many matches do you have at home right now?
Apart from the book's beauty, I can't imagine how Haushofer managed to complete the immense amount of research she needed to write this book and somehow combine tedious descriptions of feeding her cow and caring for the cat. The superficially emotionless "report" is an emotional rollercoaster much more brutal and intense than any romance, real or fictional, could be. If any other book like The Wall exists (Stephen King's variation on it excluded), I am yet to find it – as overused as the phrase seems to be, I have never read anything quite like it.
Gods, I wish I knew how to write a review that would do The Wall justice, because this isn't it. Maybe because I'm still immersed in the nameless, faceless narrator's world, wondering how long I would survive in her situation, where no reviews would ever be necessary again. Only food, water, love… and matches.
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
had to DNF which is crazy since I loved I Who Have Never Known Men. Smh
slow-paced
slow-paced
Według recenzji, największym zarzutem wobec tej książki jest jej repetetywność i nuda. Moim zdaniem one miały na celu podkreślać monotonię życia głównje bohaterki za ścianą, być wręcz medytacyjnymi opisami zwykłej codzienności. Dla mnie ta książka była nudna z powodu zerowej warstwy emocjonalnej - główna bohaterka odsuwa od siebie emocje i przez to nie da się z nią sympatyzować ani przejąć się jej historią.
adventurous
dark
emotional
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated