It is not only in the novel of the year that the heroes are called Juno and Jupiter. The book by the Viennese writer Barbara Zeman is also full of planets. He has written an atmospheric, otherworldly novel that reaches for the stars.
One day not too far away, Betelgeuse, Orion’s shoulder star, will perish in a gigantic supernova explosion. The “Hand of the Giantess,” as the literal translation from Arabic says, is the namesake of Barbara Zeman’s strangely beautiful novel. Its protagonist, Theresa Neges, defies all expectations. “You should say no” is the translation of his name.
This alone is an affront in these times that demand uninhibited affirmation: money, career, relationships, self-optimization and the obsession with happiness. Theresa has little to offer here. She has no job or money, but she has a boyfriend named Josef, who is so intangible that when you read it you might think he’s not real at all. Theresa lives in a tiny apartment painted sky blue and Josef orbits her like a moon. When she is not absent, he approaches her in a sexual, invasive and yet apparently disinterested way. And then someone else makes her way into their lives: Wera, another absent present.
Only with this laborious description can it be difficult to get close to the living conditions of the characters. Because this novel is in love with images and sounds, it wants to convince through language, not through a moving plot. It’s full of signs. Starry skies, water, fruits, fairy tales and Greek mythology: all expertly linked through a multiplicity of references and associations. Everything seems coded and overcoded.
Theresa is the second youngest child of eight siblings. He gave the brothers the names of the Pleiades: Maia, Alcyone, Asterope, Celeno, Taygeta, Electra and Merope. Eight, which is also the number of planets recognized in our solar system. Mother’s name is Birke, her sister’s name is Linde. The linden rustles, the birch is silent. These sisters are magically weird. The mother abandoned her children when the youngest turned 16. Aunt Linde played the role of surrogate mother for a while. “Are you binding the bonds of the seven stars or loosening the bonds of Orion?” says the Bible.
But why is Teresa linked to the starry sky like moths are to a light source at night? Maybe it’s because there are stories to read in the stars. Which provided models for interpretation long before astronomers and physicists began working on them with measuring instruments and telescopes.
In Zeman’s case the stars are as enigmatically inscrutable as the novel itself. It can be said like this: this does not make the critic’s job easy, because anyone who wants to make people understand what this novel is about must describe the means. , not its plot or story.
Even Theresa herself is a protagonist silently twinkling like a star in the firmament, intangible. He lets himself drift, for example under water, where he tests how long he can hold his breath. Three and a half minutes. That’s not a long time, the record for women is nine minutes. “The water laps and whispers in its vase, it murmurs around me, I want to remain still as a dead woman”. You need to calm your heart, slow down your heart rate so you can stay underwater breathless for a while as long as possible.
It’s strange how the language of the novel reflects Theresa’s tendency to isolate herself from the world and its noise with words and metaphors: reading it it becomes clear that all things carry meanings that must be deciphered. However, when reading, you are less concerned with deciphering and deciphering than with listening: you want to let the text sound and speak, to feel as if you are in a fairy tale: “How I look forward to the winter sky. Then the stars in the darkness become so big like golden apples in a fairy tale that I pluck them from the sky and eat them one after the other if I want to eat one.”
Bodies and their sphericity
Theresa’s body doesn’t quite obey her. It’s tense and tense. There is also a fibroid growing in her uterus. “It shines in complete sphericity.” A benign tumor, yet something is growing there. Who knows what it will turn into? Bodies and celestial bodies. The tumor is a time bomb in the body, visible only with the help of ultrasound. The Red Giant is a time bomb in the sky, visible to the naked eye. If Betelgeuse one day exploded, the giantess’ hand would be visible in the daytime sky for more than a year. “You still have to have chaos inside you to be able to give birth to a dancing star,” says Nietzsche. In the battle with Wera, Theresa becomes a glowing ball of plasma like the Red Giant.
Barbara Zeman, with her novel passage of the year Nominated for the Ingeborg Bachmann Prize in 2022 era, his text so fundamentally escapes the expectations of contemporary storytelling that it is a real joy. No reference to the social present, even if the time told is obviously the present. You don’t read this novel, you don’t consume it, you indulge and listen. We wish this text patient and curious readers. Readers, not with a consumerist attitude, but with the desire to discover the hidden layers of reality in the narrative.
Barbara Zemann: Beteigeuze. Roman. dtv, 304 pages, 24 euros
Title: Exploring the Cosmic Depths: An Interview with Barbara Zeman’s Literary Universe
Time.news Editor (TNE): Welcome, and thank you for joining us today! We’re excited to delve into the intricacies of Barbara Zeman’s novel, ”Hand of the Giantess.” As an expert in literary analysis, can you share your initial impressions of this atmospheric work?
Expert (E): Absolutely, it’s a pleasure to be here! Zeman’s novel transports readers into a universe where language and imagery reign supreme. The way she intertwines themes of identity and the cosmos is both enchanting and thought-provoking. The protagonist, Theresa Neges, symbolizes much more than an individual; she epitomizes the struggle against societal expectations and the search for meaning in an indifferent universe.
TNE: The title “Hand of the Giantess” is certainly intriguing. What significance do you think this title holds within the context of the story and its characters?
E: The title evokes a sense of vastness and celestial power. Betelgeuse, the star referenced in the title, is a harbinger of cosmic change—a supernova waiting to happen. This mirrors Theresa’s journey, reflecting the personal upheaval she faces in her seemingly mundane existence. The “giantess” could represent both the weight of familial expectations and the overwhelming nature of the cosmos itself, both of which exert forces on Theresa’s life.
TNE: Indeed, Theresa’s life appears to be a paradox—a blend of the unseen and the overt. She lives in a sky-blue apartment with a boyfriend, Josef, who’s described as both invasive and intangible. Can you elaborate on the relationship dynamics presented in the novel?
E: That relationship is a fascinating study in emotional gravity. Josef’s presence—or rather, his intangible existence—implies that Theresa is trapped in a cycle of dependency and isolation. Their interactions are laden with metaphor; she reaches out for connection, yet he remains perpetually just out of reach. Together, they mimic the dynamics of celestial bodies, orbiting yet never truly colliding—an illustration of how personal relationships can be as complex and distant as those in the stars.
TNE: The narrative’s focus on language and imagery over traditional plot challenges the reader’s expectations. How does this stylistic choice enhance the reader’s experience?
E: Zeman’s poetic approach invites readers to engage deeply with the text. Instead of being swept along by a conventional plot, we are encouraged to linger on her lyrical descriptions—the “starry skies, water, fruits, and fairy tales.” This immersion helps forge a profound connection to the characters and their internal landscapes, allowing us to contemplate the deeper meanings behind their actions and experiences rather than merely following a storyline.
TNE: The symbolism of the cosmos permeates the novel. Would you say that Zeman is suggesting that personal narratives are as intricate and layered as the universe itself?
E: Precisely! The stars serve as a metaphor for the multitude of stories waiting to be unraveled. Just as astronomers decode celestial movements, Zeman invites readers to decipher the intricacies of human emotion and experience. Each character is like a unique star, shining with their own story yet intricately connected within the cosmic web of family and societal expectations.
TNE: Fascinating! In the novel, Theresa also grapples with physical challenges, particularly with a fibroid growing in her body, described as a “time bomb.” How does this connect to the overarching themes surrounding bodies and sphericity?
E: The fibroid serves as a poignant symbol of hidden struggles, echoing larger themes of identity and existence. It’s benign yet significant, representing how personal challenges can remain obscured beneath the surface. This connection to bodies and celestial bodies brings into focus the fragility of life; like planets revolving around a sun, we must navigate our internal and external worlds, knowing that change is inevitable.
TNE: As we wrap up, what key message do you believe readers should take away from “Hand of the Giantess”?
E: Zeman reminds us that within the vast universe, both personal and cosmic, our stories matter—even when they seem small or insignificant. It’s a call to embrace the poetic chaos of existence, to listen to the whispers of the universe, and recognize our place within it, however unassuming it may seem.
TNE: Thank you for this enlightening conversation! Barbara Zeman’s work undoubtedly challenges and inspires us to look beyond the surface, inviting deeper reflection on both the universe and ourselves.