“Hermann is dead, now I can remember precisely.” The husband of Marianne fell down the stairs and broke his neck – an accident. She knows exactly when it happened: She wrote it down on a piece of paper in order not to forget, not like she uses to forget lunch sometimes or her neighbor’s name or her pills. Marianne suffers from Alzheimer; she is losing her memories, now she has lost her husband, too. “She’s crying ‘cause she knows that it’s too late, although he’s dead.” An accident? Friederike, Marianne’s daughter, has her doubts. Did her mother have to become a murderer to break free? While Friederike finds herself forced by her father’s death to take care for her mother, the latter withdraws herself bit by bit: she withdraws into her past, into a time when she was only a child, when she did not need bags and notes to prevent herself from forgetting. “Unraveled Days” is Gudrun Seidenauer’s second novel: cautious, touching and full of empathy, nevertheless not at the expense of the author’s linguistic accuracy.

Eisner is not who he pretends to be. As a high-ranking associate of the SS organisation "Ahnenerbe", his name is Josef Engler. In 1945 he creates a new identity for himself. As Josef Eisner, he commits himself to humanistic principles. He grows to be a renowned literary scholar who is eager to correct the murderous errors of his first life to the exclusion of his personal history. When Engler's cover is blown, his former assistant Roland Klement starts searching for answers. What does it mean to have to distrust? Where does it lead one who was taught to keep things at a certain distance, when his model and patron lets him down? What remains, when life stories cannot be combined anymore, when the assumptions one has got used to are not valid any longer, and when the flight to hasty judgements becomes as impossible as a clear bottom line? While being distant and, likewise, empathetic, in her astonishingly sovereign debut Gudrun Seidenauer manages to confront herself and her readership with a chapter in the past that has by no means been worked off yet.

Ein Mann, der seine Freundin so sehr liebt, dass er sich nach ihrem Betrug in ihr Muttermal verwandelt. Ein Tierarzt, der ein fremdes Mädchen nach einem Autonunfall beim Sterben begleitet und ihr nicht den erlösenden Satz sagt. Eine Frau, die ihren Mann und ihr Dorf verlässt, um den Tod zu suchen, und fröhlich wiederkehrt. Tanja Maljartschuk verbindet in drei Teilen drei unterschiedliche Welten: Die Welt des "Ichs" aus der Gegenwart, die archaische Welt eines Dorfes außerhalb jeglicher Zeit und die Welt eines Kindes aus der späten Sowjet- und frühen Ukrainezeit der 80er- und 90er-Jahre. Sie erzählt in einem beinahe beiläufigen Ton über große Momente, die in einer Sekunde das Leben verändern. Es sind Geschichten über Sehnsüchte, Träume und subjektive Realität. Die Mosaiksteine in "Neunprozentiger Haushaltsessig" haben eines miteinander gemein: die Beziehungslosigkeit zwischen den Menschen und die Grausamkeit des Moments. Leichtfüßig und im Plauderton kommen diese Geschichten daher, zwischen Wirklichkeit und Absurdität. Der kraftvolle, poetische Ruf einer ukrainischen jungen Autorin, der gehört werden muss.

“Anna was born in Vienna on December 3, 1909, as the second eldest of the four daughters of glass painting master Franz Goetzer.” This is the laconic beginning of Erika Pluhar’s new novel. It tells the story of a highly talented woman who studies at the Viennese Academy of Fine Arts between the two World Wars and dreams of leading a self-determined life. However, her emigration to Brazil, her marriage and most of all, the early stages of Nazi fascism keep her from fulfilling her lifelong dream for many years. Erika Pluhar paints an empathetic and insightful picture of the hopes, desires and fears that Anna feels as a young woman coming of age in a century full of political extremes. Austria, Brazil, Germany and Poland are stations in a life that takes several unexpected turns.