This is a bizarre, short novel by an Austrian writer and I shouldn’t like it very much…in fact, I should hate it. But I don’t. I don’t like it THAT much, but it was interesting.
The premise is that our narrator (who happens to share the same name as the author) finds himself in the hospital for a lung disease in 1967. One of his fellow wardmates is Paul Wittgenstein, the nephew of the famed Austrian Philosopher, and who is suffering from an acute form of mental illness. What follows is the treatment and recovery of the narrator’s physical ailment, while the mental illness of Paul Wittgenstein goes through various stages of treatment but ultimately fails to save the young man.
What is curious about this book is the ways in which it is grappling with the loss of Europeans identity in the late 1960s (by way of the early 1980s) by putting forth the image of a moneyed, historically rich family (in the form of Paul’s heritage) looking for a way to both survive but also retain a sense of standing and prestige in a modern Europe. It strikes me as entirely canny that Wittgenstein’s kin is being used and exploited for this purpose.
The reasons I shouldn’t like it is that it’s written in one long paragraph that extends the entire length of the book. And usually I am one to find that kind of garbage to be, well garbage. But since I didn’t really notice it was doing this until 50 pages in, I guess it was ok.
(Photo: https://www.amazon.com/Wittgensteins-Nephew-Novel-Vintage-International/dp/1400077567/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3MPTQ9J57NDU8&keywords=wittgenstein%27s+nephew&qid=1557692237&s=gateway&sprefix=wittgendte%2Caps%2C519&sr=8-1)
