René Templ, a young man and writer, finds a mentor, his intellectual paternity, in Karl Senegger. At the same time, however, he shirks his duties towards his wife and his child - as soon as he feels needed as a father, he shrinks to the size of his son. Karl Senegger, on his part, failed as a father; his son Viktor jumps to death. Was it an irrational act, the final drop of attraction between opposite poles? Or a desperate attempt to stand up against the one you owe your life? Karl Senegger shirks his responsibilities. The father who lost his son finally publishes his child’s literary legacy. Four interwoven stories form this novel, all connected through their subjects, characters and motives. Clemens J. Setz illustrates how sons make their fathers grow, and fathers their sons – and how they break in the presence of each other. Sensitive and tender, joyously playful, but also with confidence and ease – this is a new voice, young and so diversified, a fascinating find. Rewarded with the Ernst-Willner-Preis 2008 at the Bachmann-Wettbewerb and nominated for the aspekte literature award 2007. A haunting novel on fathers who remain sons, and sons who become fathers. An impressive literary debut.

August 1924: It is rather embarrassment why the elderly writer H. returns to a place from his childhood – Fusch, a spa in the midst of Salzburg’s mountains where he had spent summer after summer with his parents when he was growing up. A lot has changed in the meanwhile: friendships have grown apart, his fame dates back several years and his work is endangered by his impaired health and the slightest disturbances. The change of time after the war has found its way even into the life in remote Fusch and H., who became a stranger to himself, participates only in observing. During a walk H. becomes unconscious. Awaking, he gets to know young Doctor Krakauer, a duchess’ physician in private practice. He too is a repatriate in a foreign world. H. seeks to gain his friendship, but still there is the duchess and still there is a loneliness he cannot escape from. Walter Kappacher tells from a life, which has been overtaken by the time. He tells with captivating intensity and with lucid empathy, as competent as virtuosic. He confirms his special position in the german-speaking literature: “a rare one” (Peter Handke).