This book, for which I have kindly been sent a copy in return for an honest review (many thanks to Netgalley and Pushkin Press Classics), is a re-issue of a novel first published in 1927. It follows the story of Franz Tunda, an Austrian Jew who finds himself in Siberia after the end of the Great War and gradually works his way back to a society which believes him lost.
Tunda’s travels (and his frequent sexual relationships) take him through revolutionary Russia, into Baku, back to Vienna, then to an unnamed university town on the Rhine and finally to Paris, where he at last encounters his long-lost fiancée. Readers used to a more modern novel might find the structure a little lacking and occasionally confusing (the narration switches between an abstract third person, Tunda’s diary, and a friend) but I didn’t find this off-putting.
I’ve always been fascinated by Europe between the wars, not just in terms of its political history, which can be complicated as well as dark, but with its society. This novel, written during the period, is overwhelmingly realistic and, though without the knowledge of the horrors was to come (like the author, the protagonist is Jewish). still contains hints at the darker forces that were stirring. As Tunda moved between spheres and adapts to them, always looking back with what feels like a curious detachment on the life he had, and the man he was, before, I was left with an overwhelming impression of the transience and brittleness of post-war European society.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I both enjoyed and feel enlightened by this bittersweet novel.
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