PIGEONS ON THE GRASS

First published in 1951 and now available in an inspired new translation, this deeply sardonic, profoundly compassionate novel takes the reader onto the ruined postwar streets of Munich and inside the minds of the city’s inhabitants, their heads "still confused by hunger and explosions.” What seems at first to be a random parade of characters, each portrayed in alternating sections that seamlessly shift the novel’s third-person point of view—from that of a child to a psychologist to an old Nazi to an American soldier and so on—gradually coalesces to form a flawless, interconnected pattern of private dramas and chance meetings. Stories and lives overlap at an accelerating pace yet each protagonist is clearly defined, just as each is at the mercy of fate. Desperation fills the air. Doctors “queued to sell their blood…the only thing they had to sell.” But there is also, among some, a bewildered nostalgia presented with a garnish of irrepressible ironic wit. “Things were different, under Hitler!” one character hears her father lament. “Things had some gusto then.” The novel reaches its crescendo with the onstage appearance of a famous intellectual, the theme of whose lecture is “the deathless soul of the West.” When he arrives, the author notes, “photographers dropped on one knee like archers”—an image typical of the gems scattered liberally throughout the novel. And what follows is indeed a comical skewering of pomposity. At the critical moment, technology—the hope of the future—fails and great thoughts turn into electronic squawks, leaving an adoring crowd mystified.

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