So far I’ve disliked a lot of novels written by Germans, unfortunately Botho Strauss is joining that list.
The book is basically about an a theater director who gives up on that type of life and dedicates it to writing. As inspiration he watches people and tries to write about it. Although this plot does sound good it quickly turns into a dirge about the state of humanity and popular culture, also are bits of fantasy thrown in to add a bit of spice.
Dull dull dull. I finished it, but just.