We Would Have Told Each Other Everything

In this deeply affecting English-language debut, German writer Hermann reflects on the connections between art and experience, delving into her protagonist’s family history in West Germany and the relationships that shaped her life. In part one, set shortly before the Covid-19 pandemic, Judith, a writer, is ending a night out in Berlin when she runs into her erstwhile psychoanalyst, Dr. Dreehüs. The encounter prompts Judith to remember Ada, an old friend who had recommended the analyst to her; and Marco, another friend, who died young. Ada was determined to overcome her own traumatic past, and for an idyllic period in the 1990s, when the trio were in their 20s and 30s, Marco and Judith become part of Ada’s “chosen family... made up of her husband, her child, and a close circle of other women and men.” Judith continues her reflections in the second part, remembering her childhood in the 1970s and her father’s time in a mental hospital in the ’90s. In the third and final part, she visits her parents in fall 2020, and develops a new understanding of her family’s dynamics. Interspersed with these events are thoughts on writing: Judith insists, “It doesn’t matter whether a story is invented, true, or only half-true.” Despite proceeding by association and ranging freely between past and present, the work is tightly and satisfyingly unified by the depth and intelligence of the narration. Readers are fortunate to have this remarkable meditation on family, identity, and writing from a master storyteller. (Jan.)