As for the satire: I suspect this is precisely the element of Zeh's work that doesn't translate well (if it does at all). A LOT of it relies on plays of words -- and not necessarily just *any* words, but the buzzwords that are in vogue at the time of the writing, and that you have to be able to put into context (social, political, you name it) to even understand the satirical elements in the German text, let alone in translation. And even when it's not plays on words, her satire depends in very large parts on events, trends, and other items that will really only be obvious if (a) either you know the area or the topic she's writing about or (b) you are following German language news reporting. Some of this may still get through in transaltion, to the extent it's something that everybody can relate to, but definitely not all of it will. More broadly speaking, though, yes, her general approach does consist in calling out the things she wants to criticize by perverting them into their opposite, or by taking them to the absolute, gross extreme end -- not because she endorses that opposite or extreme end, but precisely in order to ruffle people's feathers.
So what I think may happened here (without having read this particular book of hers) is that
(1) she wrote a book criticizing the money-grabbing approach of some private clinics and the charge that some of these clinics promise one thing, deliver the opposite (or just not at all), and charge you the earth for the privilege (which actually is a thing that's part of the current public discourse in Germany -- as part of our ongoing national debate on healthcare, public, private and otherwise -- though it's by far not the most prominent part of that debate),
(2) that Zeh applied her standard approach to satire and to exposing the practice by taking it to its grossest extremes ...
(3) and somehow, most of what she did got lost in translation.
Not that the topic of this particular book of hers is one that would compel me to read it even in German, however, so I'm still going to say "thank you for taking one for the team so I don't have to read this one, too".
Thanks for the comment. I did wonder how much was lost in translation and lost due to not having a handle on German culture and political discourse. There was kind of running (so to speak) gag that was completely lost on me--a group called "Sport is Public," who would be seen doing group bike rides or going for runs, and I had the impression that I was supposed to automatically think they were ridiculous, but I was never sure why. There was a moment when the protagonist declared, "We are not the good guys," and I thought to myself, "THAT'S my main problem with this book!" Not that I can't tolerate flawed protagonists, but if I find their actions completely repugnant, I have a lot of trouble. This is why I can't stand books where I am supposed to enjoy being in the brain of a serial killer enjoying the kills.
And yes, you picked a very good example. A German reader would immediately have picked up on the satirizing of the sports thing, which goes all the way back to movements introduced over 100 years ago by a man nicknamed "Turnvater Jahn" ("Gymnast Father Jahn" -- the last word being his last name), and repopularized in the 1970s by West Germany's then-President Walter Scheel. The basic idea is just to get people to exercize (e.g., by participating in group walkabouts or bike rides in the woods or the countryside, which to this day is probably the best-known activity associated with the movement), but it's been repeatedly turned into a PC thing where being *seen* to exercize is almost more important than actually doing it -- and of course the Nazis weren't slow to completely pervert it for their purposes as well. And yet, while the irony in Zeh's book would be obvious to any German, I doubt very many people outside of Germany would be able to put this particular bit into perspective.
Thanks for the scoop on that. There was one scene where a character lights up a cigarette, and a group of "Sport is Public" cyclists scowl at her. She gives them the finger, and the protagonist loves her for that.
So what I think may happened here (without having read this particular book of hers) is that
(1) she wrote a book criticizing the money-grabbing approach of some private clinics and the charge that some of these clinics promise one thing, deliver the opposite (or just not at all), and charge you the earth for the privilege (which actually is a thing that's part of the current public discourse in Germany -- as part of our ongoing national debate on healthcare, public, private and otherwise -- though it's by far not the most prominent part of that debate),
(2) that Zeh applied her standard approach to satire and to exposing the practice by taking it to its grossest extremes ...
(3) and somehow, most of what she did got lost in translation.
Not that the topic of this particular book of hers is one that would compel me to read it even in German, however, so I'm still going to say "thank you for taking one for the team so I don't have to read this one, too".
And yes, you picked a very good example. A German reader would immediately have picked up on the satirizing of the sports thing, which goes all the way back to movements introduced over 100 years ago by a man nicknamed "Turnvater Jahn" ("Gymnast Father Jahn" -- the last word being his last name), and repopularized in the 1970s by West Germany's then-President Walter Scheel. The basic idea is just to get people to exercize (e.g., by participating in group walkabouts or bike rides in the woods or the countryside, which to this day is probably the best-known activity associated with the movement), but it's been repeatedly turned into a PC thing where being *seen* to exercize is almost more important than actually doing it -- and of course the Nazis weren't slow to completely pervert it for their purposes as well. And yet, while the irony in Zeh's book would be obvious to any German, I doubt very many people outside of Germany would be able to put this particular bit into perspective.