Translated from the original German by Michael Hofmann.
It’s weird: this book smells to high heaven of being very firmly Literary Fiction, one of my least favored genres, yet I really enjoyed it. There were definitely parts where the narrator has a thought process so decidedly masculine that I scoffed at the idea of her being a cis woman, but on the whole, I felt that this was a keenly felt, extraordinarily subtle tale of a filmmaker who can’t extricate her life from that of an elusive subject’s.
Andrea is a documentarian who, with her filming and life partner Thomas, is working on a story about the semi-reclusive author Richard Wechsler. He is older, handsome and enigmatic, and seems almost entirely detached from the project. They’d filmed successfully enough in Paris, where he currently lives. Since moving to the Swiss village where he grew up, however, he’s become increasingly elusive.
Frustrated, Andrea decides to explore the village herself, in an effort to ferret out more regarding his past. In particular, she’s looking for the mysterious woman whom she believes inspired so much of Wechsler’s work. What she discovers will affect her life for years to come.
Andrea’s quest to uncover the truth about Wechsler leads to an interrogation of her own choices and desires, tho his story — and especially his star-crossed romance — remain firmly in the foreground throughout. I hesitate to say that not a lot happens here, as the action, tho understated, is familiar to anyone who’s ever experienced the violence of love and loss. The tedium of the in-between moments of existence are also masterfully sketched out so as to be immediately recognizable without boring readers in turn.
I think what really struck me about this book tho is how well it melds the novel with the art of documentary filmmaking. Peter Stamm writes so vividly, and in such carefully edited scenes, that the entire book brought to mind nothing less than the experience of watching a documentary where the narrator is no longer capable of giving an objective report on their subject. Instead the documentary — or in this case, book — becomes as much about the narrator and the impact of their relationship with the subject as it is about said subject. In this case, it’s not a surprising choice given Wechsler’s reluctance to give Andrea anything to work with. It’s a fascinating fictional conceit that works out remarkably well in this slender novel that experiments delicately with forms of media to produce an absorbing tale.
In A Deep Blue Hour by Peter Stamm was published March 18 2025 by Other Press and is available from all good booksellers, including
2 comments
“the narrator has a thought process so decidedly masculine that I scoffed at the idea of her being a cis woman”
I may have to read this now to see how different (or indeed whether) this is from the cis German women I have encountered here.
Author
I think my main scoffing had to do with her complete lack of fear regarding strange men and situations. Every woman I know second guesses herself before going walking alone at night, especially in an unfamiliar city: that the narrator had zero concerns while wandering around in the dark was a jarring reminder that this was not written by a woman.