Intermission

This reading journal is not complete anyway, and not intended to be. But I have skipped a few things from the recent months that I just do not completely remember any more, I'm afraid.

I continued a bit with Poe's "Selected Tales", mentioned before; started with Pinker's "Words and Rules", which is, in the beginning at least, less entertaining than the "Language Instinct"; read about various types of musical instruments in "Reclam's Musikinstrumentenführer". And other things, probably.

Guus Kuijer: Das Buch von allen Dingen ("Het boek van alle dingen", The Book of all Things)

Birthday present from my parents. Like Marten t'Haart in at least one book, this is a pamphlet against a narrow-minded, bigot, self-righteous understanding of religion. Which is overcome at last, confrontational where necessary, but with open hands, by the imagination and unshakable sense of justice of children. Quite impressive.

Uli Hannemann: Neulich in Neukölln (Recently in Neukölln)

After Jan Weiler's "Maria, ihm schmeckt's nicht" (german man marries italian woman) and Asli Sevindim's "Candlelight Döner" (turkish woman marries german man), two light-hearted, humorous firsthand accounts of intercultural marriages in Germany, I thought "Neulich in Neukölln" from the same series would be vaguely similar.

Neukölln is the prototypical one of Berlin's poor districts. Neukölln is multi-cultural, with all related problems, but also some successes; being poor and perhaps unemployed is the usual thing for a large part of the populace and a threat for most others; living off welfare is the reality for more people here than elsewhere. Still Neukölln has its charms and its pride, and I have liked living there for nearly 20 years. Recently, though, I hear that more than before ghettoization has progressed and resignation is increasing among people living there.

Still I expected this would be a book poking fun at all this, one that would be fun to read, reminding me of the neighbourhoods I once knew so well.

Instead it tries to be funny with gross exaggeration of the weird and icky aspects. Yes, there are alcoholics sitting in the parks, drinking away their welfare checks and their health, but is it really necessary to deride them? I find that cheap, not funny, and not entertaining at all. Still I read the whole book, hoping to find a few nice reminiscences. But there is only bitterness that I could not laugh about. This is not a book the world would have missed.