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The Hunger Angel by Herta Müller
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Despite the seriousness of the subject, I did not manage to imagine the content of this story chopped into naively childish sparks to approach an existential experience that one can hardly imagine unitary.
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Reading Progress

March 30, 2021 – Shelved
March 30, 2021 – Shelved as: to-read
March 30, 2021 – Shelved as: recommendations
August 13, 2021 – Started Reading
August 13, 2021 –
page 15
4.93% "The locomotive let out a dull whistle. The deepest UUUUH I ever heard. Everyone pushed to get to the door. We climbed in and rode on.
I would have recognized the man even without his badge. But I never saw him in the camp."
August 13, 2021 –
page 33
10.86% "In the evening, in the shuffle of footsteps on the way home, I often thought: There's less and less cement; it can disappear all by itself. I'm made of cement, too, and there's less and less of me. So why can't I disappear."
August 13, 2021 –
page 71
23.36% "And what sets the kitten apart from the mice: it was all about intent and compassion with the mice. With the kitten, it was resentment: wanting to pet and winding up bitten. That's one thing. The other is compulsion. Once you start to squeeze, there's no going back."
August 13, 2021 –
page 96
31.58% "By then, her hands were swarming black again. Before she licked off the ants, she asked: When is the war over.
I said: The war's been over for two years. Come, let's go back to the camp.
She said: Can't you see I don't have any time now."
August 14, 2021 –
page 134
44.08% "He knows about saved bread and cheek-bread, and he sends out the white hare.
He says he's coming back but stays where he is.
When he comes, he comes with force.
It's utterly clear:
1 shovel load = 1 gram bread.
Hunger is an object."
August 14, 2021 –
page 162
53.29% "I wondered if she knew about the swan on the oval sign at the Neptune Baths. I didn't ask her, but I did say: You know why a swan sounds hoarse when it sings because its throat is always hungry."
August 14, 2021 –
page 191
62.83% "Then Mother stood up and went into the house. And I sat down on Aunt Luia in the exact spot where she had been sitting. The wood was warm. The black wind quivered in the fruit garden."
August 14, 2021 –
page 250
82.24% "We no longer felt the savage hunger, and the orach still grew silver-green. Soon it would turn woody and flaming red. But because we knew what hunger was, we bought fatty foods at the market and wolfed them down without restraint. We fattened up our old homesickness; it soaked up the hasty new meat. (...)"
August 15, 2021 –
page 285
93.75% "Once a dusty raisin was lying underneath the little white Formica table. And I danced with the raisin. Then I ate it. And then there was a distance deep within me."
August 15, 2021 – Shelved as: 2021-readings
August 15, 2021 – Shelved as: e-2
August 15, 2021 – Shelved as: female-writers
August 15, 2021 – Finished Reading
March 6, 2022 – Shelved as: english-editions
January 21, 2024 – Shelved as: historical-fiction
January 21, 2024 – Shelved as: romanian-literature

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Comments Showing 1-2 of 2 (2 new)

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message 1: by Paula (new)
Aug 15, 2021 07:59AM

Paula Mota É uma autora muito críptica que ainda não me prendeu.


message 2: by ³¢³Üí²õ (new) - rated it 2 stars
Aug 15, 2021 08:02AM

³¢³Üí²õ Paula wrote: "É uma autora muito críptica que ainda não me prendeu."

As primeiras impressões foram péssimas ...


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