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A review by ovenbird_reads
The Hunger Angel by Herta Müller
2.0
Around the World: Romania
I really wanted to like this. It had some impressive moments, some images that caused my stomach to lurch in surprise and I have to give Muller credit for the unique style of this novel. But I just didn't like it. Frankly, I was bored. I couldn't connect to the protagonist, and the level of detail provided about every speck of dust and every scrap of food became wearing and frustrating. There isn't really a moving plot here--just poetic descriptions, images, and microscopic examinations of the minutiae of life in a forced labour camp. I eventually started skipping over huge sections, sometimes entire chapters just to get to the end. I realize that the structure and focus of the book was purposeful. I can appreciate Muller's project--an attempt to capture the bizarre contrast between the mundane and the horrific in the labour camp setting. Starvation takes away humanity, leaving empty husks of people in its wake, so its no surprise that there is no energy in the text, nothing moving. But I could only deal with so many descriptions of lice and potato peels. It was all too depressing. There were very few moments of joy, nothing to give the reader hope, nothing to temper the despair. So, unfortunately, I didn't like this book, and only pressed on because it won the Nobel Prize, otherwise I would have stopped after the first few chapters. I want to stress that I don't think this was bad writing. It may even have been a deeply important book, but I personally wasn't provoked by it.
I really wanted to like this. It had some impressive moments, some images that caused my stomach to lurch in surprise and I have to give Muller credit for the unique style of this novel. But I just didn't like it. Frankly, I was bored. I couldn't connect to the protagonist, and the level of detail provided about every speck of dust and every scrap of food became wearing and frustrating. There isn't really a moving plot here--just poetic descriptions, images, and microscopic examinations of the minutiae of life in a forced labour camp. I eventually started skipping over huge sections, sometimes entire chapters just to get to the end. I realize that the structure and focus of the book was purposeful. I can appreciate Muller's project--an attempt to capture the bizarre contrast between the mundane and the horrific in the labour camp setting. Starvation takes away humanity, leaving empty husks of people in its wake, so its no surprise that there is no energy in the text, nothing moving. But I could only deal with so many descriptions of lice and potato peels. It was all too depressing. There were very few moments of joy, nothing to give the reader hope, nothing to temper the despair. So, unfortunately, I didn't like this book, and only pressed on because it won the Nobel Prize, otherwise I would have stopped after the first few chapters. I want to stress that I don't think this was bad writing. It may even have been a deeply important book, but I personally wasn't provoked by it.