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Warning: contains major spoilers for Sophie's World

Manfred, my inner German child, is looking even smugger and more annoying than usual.

"I'm not a child any more," he informs me. "I'm grown up. I read Max Frisch's Homo Faber."

"You are a child, Manfred," I sigh. "You're only three."

"Three and a half," says Manfred with a little less confidence.

"Three and a half if you like," I agree. "And you didn't understand that book. It was too difficult for you."

"Did so," says Manfred.

"Okay, Manfred," I say. "If you understood it, why don't you tell me what it was about? Which books did it remind you of, in your vast reading experience?"

"Well," says Manfred after pretending to think, "It reminded me of Sofies Welt."

"Incredible!" I reply and roll my eyes. "Sartre's Die schmutzigen Hände reminded you of Jostein Gaarder, and this also reminded you of Jostein Gaarder! Think of the odds!"

"You underestimate Jostein Gaarder," says Manfred sullenly. I can tell he'd like to storm out and slam the door, but it's not biologically possible. He really does resent sharing my body at times like this.

"Alright," I say "Why did it remind you of Jostein Gaarder?"

"The key to the book is Hanna's speech on page 140," says Manfred. "Here it is. Der Mann sieht sich als Herr der Welt, die Frau nur als seinen Spiegel. Der Herr ist nicht gezwungen, die Sprache der Unterdrückten zu lernen; die Frau ist gezwungen, doch nützt es ihr nichts, die Sprache ihres Herrn zu lernen, im Gegenteil, sie lernt nur eine Sprache, die ihr immer unrecht gibt."

"And that means?" I ask.

"Man sees himself as the master of the world, woman only as his mirror," says Manfred. "Man is not obliged to learn the language of the subjugated class; in contrast, and although it does not help her, woman is obliged to learn the language of her master, a language which always puts her in the wrong."

"Why is that the key to the book?" I want to know.

"Walter speaks the fragmented language of the ruling male class," says Manfred. "Half the time it isn't even proper sentences, but he doesn't care. He knows engineering and chess, and that's enough for him. He pays so little attention to the coherence of his life that he doesn't even notice when--"

"No spoilers, Manfred," I remind him.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't even notice something he really should notice," says Manfred in an irritated voice. "In the end, he does start to understand the coherence that's central to Hanna's way of looking at things. But only when it's too late."

"And what's the connection to Gaarder?" I ask.

"See," says Manfred, "I suddenly realized what the real point of Sofies Welt is. The first time you read the book, you think it's a good story and the philosophy is kind of interesting but it doesn't make any sense. Like, why is the heroine a teenage girl? What's the deal with how she discovers halfway through that she's not a real girl at all, just a character in a book? Why is it so important to her to study philosophy? How does that help her get out of the book? What has any of it got to do with anything?"

"Good questions," I agree.

"But you see," says Manfred, "It makes perfect sense! That's exactly what teenage girls most need to understand. They aren't real girls. They're just social constructs. Fictitious characters in a male narrative."

Where on earth is he getting all this jargon from? Has he been reading feminist theory? But that's clearly impossible.

"And the only way they'll ever escape from that narrative is by studying philosophy," concludes Manfred with satisfaction. "It all came to me when I was reading Homo Faber."

An even more impossible hypothesis crosses my mind: has he got a girlfriend?

"That's for me to know and you to find out," says Manfred smugly. "Interview concluded."