The best known books set in each country: Austria

See here for methodology, though NB that I am now also using numbers from StoryGraph. Books are disqualified if less than 50% of them is set in the current boundaries of Austria. 

These numbers are crunched by hand, not by AI.

TitleAuthorGR
raters
LT
owners
SG
reviews
The WallMarlen Haushofer38,5611,8278,299
Letter from an Unknown WomanStefan Zweig73,9227543,892
The World of YesterdayStefan Zweig30,6543,0842,068
Love VirtuallyDaniel Glattauer31,2751,2083,190
Beware of PityStefan Zweig22,7422,0392,577
Dream StoryArthur Schnitzler22,2452,0942,347
The Piano TeacherElfriede Jelinek16,9142,2272,054
A Whole LifeRobert Seethaler24,2891,0002,874

When I did this exercise in 2015, I declared the winner to be Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return, by Marjane Satrapi. But closer examination reveals that it (just) fails my criteria; the protagonist spends only the first 91 pages of a 187-page book in Vienna. Otherwise it would have been far ahead of the field.

The three sites have again served up three different winners. I had not previously heard of Marlen Haushofer, or her dystopian novel The Wall, in which the protagonist finds herself and her Alpine cabin sealed off from the outside world by an invisible barrier. I see that there was a film in 2012. It is way ahead on StoryGraph, second on Goodreads and not so very far behind on LibraryThing.

Letter from an Unknown Woman is a 68-page novella which wins on Goodreads, is in second place on StoryGraph, but lags on LibraryThing. It is about a years-later tragic resolution of an upstairs-downstairs love affair. For some reason Goodreads logs it under the Turkish translation, Bilinmeyen Bir Kadının Mektubu, which makes me suspect that it is a popular text for students learning German.

Zweig’s autobiography, The World of Yesterday, is ahead on LibraryThing but only fourth on Goodreads and further behind on StoryGraph. It is the only one of these that I have read, and I enjoyed it a lot.

Love Virtually, originally Gut Gegen Nordwind, is an email romance story. As far as I can tell, the setting is not specified, but everyone assumes that the protagonists live in Vienna.

I thought long and hard about Zweig’s Beware of Pity, as mentioned last week. The setting is described as “eine kleine Garnison an der ungarischen Grenze”, a garrison on the Hungarian border, on the main train line from Vienna to Budapest and closer to Vienna. Although the protagonist’s love interest is the daughter of the local Hungarian aristocrat, it is clear that everyone is speaking German (he comments on her Hungarian accent). I reckon that this would be one of the towns that was historically in Hungary and then briefly in the Banate of Leitha before being incorporated into today’s Austrian state of Burgenland.

Dream Story and The Piano Teacher are both explicitly set in Vienna, and A Whole Life is set in the Austrian Alps.

Bringing in the StoryGraph numbers again helped the gender balance; we lost The Third Man, by Graham Greene, and The Radetzky March, by Joseph Roth and gained The Piano Teacher and A Whole Life. I am not sure if The Radetzky March would have qualified geographically anyway.

I disqualified a number of books which had been tagged “austria” on LibraryThing and Goodreads. I already awarded Kafka’s The Metamorphosis and The Trial to the Czech Republic. Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor E. Frankl is mainly set in German concentration camps, some of which are now in Poland. Carmilla, by J. Sheridan Le Fanu, is set in what is now Slovenia. The Only Woman in the Room, by “Marie Benedict” (Heather Terrell) is about Hedy Lamarr, who was born in Vienna but spent most of her life elsewhere. I already mentioned Persepolis 2. The Hare with the Amber Eyes jumps around too. There were many others.

Next up will be Switzerland; then a jump south to Sierra Leone; then back to Europe, for the last time in a while, for Belarus; then way off east for Laos.

Asia: India | China | Indonesia | Pakistan | Bangladesh (revised) | Russia | Japan | Philippines (revised) | Vietnam | Iran | Türkiye | Thailand | Myanmar | South Korea | Iraq | Afghanistan | Yemen | Uzbekistan | Malaysia | Saudi Arabia | Nepal | North Korea | Syria | Sri Lanka | Taiwan | Kazakhstan | Cambodia | Jordan | UAE | Tajikistan | Israel
Americas: USA | Brazil (revised) | Mexico | Colombia | Argentina | Canada | Peru | Venezuela | Chile | Guatemala | Ecuador | Bolivia | Haiti | Dominican Republic | Honduras | Cuba
Africa: Nigeria | Ethiopia (revised) | Egypt | DR Congo | Tanzania | South Africa | Kenya | Sudan | Uganda | Algeria | Morocco | Angola | Mozambique | Ghana | Madagascar | Côte d’Ivoire | Cameroon | Niger | Mali | Burkina Faso | Malawi | Zambia | Chad | Somalia | Senegal | Zimbabwe | Guinea | Benin | Rwanda | Burundi | Tunisia | South Sudan | Togo
Europe: Russia | Türkiye | Germany | France | UK | Italy | Spain | Poland | Ukraine | Romania | Netherlands | Belgium | Sweden | Czechia | Azerbaijan | Portugal | Greece | Hungary | Austria | Switzerland
Oceania: Australia | Papua New Guinea

1913: The Year Before the Storm, by Florian Illies

Second paragraph of March chapter in original German:

Meier-Graefes Haus in Nikolassee atmete französischen Chic, hatte Eleganz und eine gewisse Behäbigkeit, es war perfekt zugeschnitten auf den gerade 50Jahre alt gewordenen Meier-Graefe und seine Ehefrau (ein paar Jahre später übrigens wurde dann der Architekt Epstein post mortem sein Schwiegervater, weil Meier-Graefe in dritter Ehe dessen Tochter Annemarie heiratete, aber das verwirrt jetzt nur). Hier, im Kirchweg 28. »draußen auf dem Lande«, wie Meier-Graefe in Briefen an den Maler Edvard Munch sein Haus lokalisierte, entstand 1913 ein zentrales Werk der Kunstgeschichtsschreibung: »Die Entwicklungsgeschichte der modernen Kunst«, die ab 1914 erscheinen sollte.Meier-Graefe’s house in Nikolassee exuded French chic, had elegance and an air of cosiness, it was perfectly tailored to Meier-Graefe, who had just turned 50, and his wife (a few years later, by the way, the architect Epstein became his father-in-law posthumously, because Meier-Graefe married his daughter Annemarie in his third marriage, but that’s just confusing). Here, at Kirchweg 28, ‘out in the country’, as Meier-Graefe described his house in letters to the painter Edvard Munch, a central work of art historiography was written in 1913: ‘The History of the Development of Modern Art’, which was to be published from 1914.
My translation because this section is missing from the English version that I bought.

I picked this up cheap in a Leuven bookshop a couple of weeks ago, partly out of interest in contrasting it with a similar book by my friend Charles Emmerson. Both of them look at the world in 1913 through contemporary records, with the benefit of hindsight and knowing what was around the corner.

Florian Illies’ book looks mainly at the German and Austrian empires, from Kiel to Trieste, with occasional excursions to Britain, France, Italy and America. It’s a fascinating delineation of the links between politics, science and the arts. Stalin and Hitler are both known to have enjoyed strolling in the gardens of the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna that January, and may have tipped their hats to each other as they passed. Franz Kafka had an on-and-off relationship with Felice Bauer. Thomas Mann was coming to terms with his own sexuality. James Joyce was teaching and writing in Trieste. Rilke was loving and writing. Freud and Jung were treating people. The Futurists were starting. Proust self-published Du côté de chez Swann. I had never heard of Der Tunnel, in which a tunnel is built connecting America and Europe. The Mona Lisa, stolen in 1911, was found in Italy in December. There were school shootings in Bremen and Württemberg. Oskar Kokoschka and Alma Mahler launched into their passionate affair, commemorated in Kokoschka’s art.

I found a lot of new names here, particularly literary women who had previously escaped me – Lou Andreas-Salomé, Else Lasker-Schüler, Coco Chanel. There are lots of elements all adding up to a thought-provoking portrait of a time and several places, from an angle I don’t know as well as I thought I did.

I was dismayed to discover that my translation has been cut by around 20% – the German original has 324 pages, my English version only 267. There is no hint of any abridgement anywhere in my copy. That’s frankly deceptive on the part of the English language publisher.

You can get it here.

Austria in the Year 2020, by Josef von Neupauer

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Die weiten Wälder, von Wiesen unterbrochen, bieten Tausenden genußreiche Gelegenheit, sich zu ergehen und dem Ballspiel, Cricket oder Lawn tennis zu huldigen, wozu die Erfordernisse reichlich vorhanden sind. Es ist ein Aussichtsthurm hier und in einer Stunde etwa kann man auf herrlichen Wegen den Hermannskogel erreichen, auf welchem auch ein uralter Thurm steht, dessen Entstehungsgeschichte der Castellan erzählt. Wir legitimirten uns in der Wirthschaft auf dem Kahlenberge mit der Anweisung des Tullner Beamten und wurden mit allem versorgt. Wir ließen Zwirner telephonisch benachrichtigen, daß wir gleich nach dem Mittagstisch nach Payerbach fahren wollten, um die herrliche Nacht auf dem Schneeberg zu verbringen. Man versah uns, als wir aufbrachen, mit einer Tasche, in der wir die nöthigsten Reiseerfordernisse und Mundvorrath mitnahmen, und wurden ersucht, Tasche und Reiserequisiten in Tulln abzugeben, von wo sie wieder gelegentlich zurückgebracht würden.The wide forests, dotted with meadows, offer thousands of enjoyable opportunities to relax and to play ball games, cricket or lawn tennis, for which the equipment is readily available. There is a lookout tower here and in about an hour you can reach the Hermannskogel by following some magnificent paths. There is also an ancient tower on top of the Hermannskogel, whose Castellan will tell you the story of its origin. We checked in at the inn on the Kahlenberge with the approval of the official from Tulln, and were provided with everything. We had Zwirner notified by telephone that we wanted to leave for Payerbach right after lunch to spend the night on the Schneeberg. When we left, we were given a bag in which we took the most essential travel supplies and provisions, and we were asked to hand in the bag and travel documents in Tulln, from where they would be returned in due course.
Translation by me

I wrote about this 1893 novel when doing my write-up of 2020 as portrayed in science fiction, but thanks to a DeepL subscription, I have only now got around to actually reading it. I wrote previously, having skimmed the German text:

Here Julian West from Looking Backward and a friend from another utopian novel of the time visit a future Austria, which has successfully maintained the Hapsburg monarchy and aristocracy and at the same time adopted most of the socialism of Bellamy’s novel. Austria is part of a European Union (that phrase isn’t quite used) which stretches from the Atlantic to the Urals, but does not include England.

It is quite a short book – 200 large print pages in the most recent edition – with typically ponderous nineteenth-century German sentences with long subordinate clauses which even DeepL struggles with. The premise is that by 2020, Austria – and when we say Austria, we mean the entirety of the Hapsburg Empire as it was in 1893 – has long been a Communist utopia under a constitutional monarchy, thanks to the wise reforms enacted by Franz Josef II and his heir Franz Ferdinand when he in turn came to the throne. (In reality, Franz Ferdinand was a petulant bigot who loved killing animals, and if he had ever come to the throne he is unlikely to have ruled in an enlightened manner.) Everything is tightly regulated by the authorities and everyone loves this because society has been made perfect. Money has been abolished, and so has smoking.

Most modern reviewers remark on the future arrangement of European politics in the book, which is actually dealt with rather rapidly, in two as-you-know-Bob moments of exposition, the first in Chapter 7:

Austria no longer has an army, as a disarmament treaty has long existed in Europe; but it maintains a very important naval defence force. [NB that this is the Austria which controls Trieste and Rijeka.] All the Continental states, which in the east are fully protected by Russia in return for subsidies and seconded personnel, have agreed on a coastal defence alliance and maintain not only coastal fortifications but also a strong navy, partly to protect themselves against England, which has been driven out of all seas and islands from Gibraltar to the Red Sea, and partly to protect themselves against the predatory states in Argentina and China, from where piracy is shamelessly practised.

A more extended description in Chapter 13 explains that the European Union (as I said before, not quite given that name) depends on regional security as well as internal disarmament:

Turkish rule had been completely abolished and Russia had taken over Asia Minor and Arabia, Italy Egypt, France the area from Egypt to the western border of Algiers, Spain the entire west of northern Africa. The peoples of the Balkan states had formed four independent Christian empires under the sovereignty of the Emperor of Austria, who was also in command of the navy and coastal defence.

…We consider that there is no danger of the Union breaking up, as the German Confederation once did, and provision has also been made to ensure that Union law can develop in line with the times. We hope that England will soon be compelled [gezwungen] to join the Union, and for the still distant future we may well assume that the whole of Asia will be won over to the collective principle, and then Europe, Asia and Africa, which in reality form only one continent, will be united into a single confederation of states.

A lot to unpack here, perhaps more than these few paragraphs are actually worth, but I’ll just note that there is no reference to Islam anywhere in the book.

The other thing that surprised me was the book’s take on women and sex. The population has been kept under control and dispersed around the countryside – Vienna has only 3,500 inhabitants – and reproduction is controlled by the sinister and all-powerful Women’s Curia, a body which includes all women over the age of 18. Only a few women are allowed to have babies, for good old eugenic reasons. Women who give birth to illegitimate children, ie without permission of the Curia, are either forced to permanently wear a garment of shame covering their face and body, or graciously allowed to emigrate to Africa. (Nothing is said about the consequences for the fathers.) The Women’s Curia legislates and enforces all of this, and it is portrayed as a Good Thing.

I’m scratching my head to think of another sf novel, or even another novel, where pregnancy is treated quite so neurotically. Brave New World, perhaps; but in that case there are (almost) no pregnancies at all, human reproduction having been mechanised.

Having said that, it’s clear that there is a lot of sex happening in Neupauer’s future Austria, and his protagonist Julian West has several close encounters and one definite score with the lovely Giulietta. Nothing is said about how the large amount of sex doesn’t then lead to large numbers of babies, but perhaps we are meant to read between the lines of the unspoken activities of the Women’s Curia. The book ends with a long letter from Giulietta to Julian, in which what isn’t discussed is perhaps more interesting than what is.

Anyway, you can get Österreich im Jahre 2020 from Project Gutenberg here, and my DeepL translation if you want it is here. See also recent reviews from ORF, Der Standard and the Tyrolean Education Service.

Erhard Busek, 1941-2022

Very sorry to learn of the death yesterday of Erhard Busek, a few days before his 81st birthday. When I first came to Brussels in 1998 looking for work, Peter Ludlow and Michael Emerson put me in front of him as a sort of interview rite of passage, to see if I could hold my own in debate with a former Vice-Chancellor of Austria. He was charming, modest, and tolerant of the young, and I passed the test. I did not know then of the brave role he had played within his own party a decade earlier, suggesting that maybe Kurt Waldheim was not such a good candidate to have as president. I did know that as Vice-Chancellor in the mid-90s, he had led his party and co-led his country into the EU.

We saw quite a lot of each other over the next decade, as he carried out his various roles in keeping the EU engaged with the Balkans. I was impressed that, as EU Special Representative in charge of the Stability Pact for Southeastern Europe, he did not hold back from challenging his own paymasters for their lack of ambition towards the future EU membership of the Western Balkan countries.

But I also remember sharing a flight with him from Brussels to Vienna for a conference where we were both speaking. I remarked that I was surprised that he was not up in business class rather than slumming it in economy with the rest of us. He retorted something along the lines of ”Quatsch! I have my papers, my pyjamas and a book to read; why would I need to be in business class for an hour or two?”

I last saw him at the GlobSec conference in Bratislava in 2019. He was recovering from a stroke, but still radiating goodwill and constructive engagement, venerated by all of us there who knew his record. Someone who left his country and his continent in better shape than he found it.