Barbour and Bergen: Germany as seen through Christian Kracht’s Faserland
“Ich würde ihnen von Deutschland erzählen, von dem großen Land im Norden, von der großen Maschine, die sich selbst baut, da unten im Flachland.”
The archetype of the traveler is a key component of the coming-of-age story. The sub-genre, by its nature, revolves around the the spiritual journey of a protagonist, which fittingly manifests itself as a physical journey. Take J.D. Salinger’s classic albeit controversial 1951 novel, The Catcher in the Rye, for example. The main plot of the novel finds the novels protagonist, more fittingly called an antihero, Holden Caulfield, ditching his preppy boarding school and traversing New York City, experiencing lives of grown ups he considers himself to be similar to. The purpose of this trip, however, is to show the personal conflicts of the character himself. His flaws, which are apparent from the outset, manifest themselves further as readers see Holden repeatedly call everyone who isn’t himself a “phony.” This novel is not simply about hating everything and everyone though; it’s about recognizing flaws in oneself, the stresses of modern, or modern for the time, life, and ultimately about growing up.
This brings us to Christian Kracht’s 1995 debut novel, Faserland. The novel revolves around a literal journey. The narrator and protagonist, whose name is never revealed, begins the book on the German island of Sylt and makes his way down through Germany, ultimately concluding his story in Switzerland. Aspects of the narrator seem similar to Holden Caulfield. He does not have a group in which he fits into and his views on the world are almost excessively cynical. Faserland’s narrator appears on the surface to be, well, obsessed with the surface. He constantly references his own Barbour jacket as well as the brands he sees others wear, and he generalizes those he encounters on his journey solely on their appearances. Those who look as one would describe a hippie are quickly classified as hippies; those who are older are classified as Nazis. But the narrator proves himself to not be as shallow as he may seem at first. As superficial as he comes across, he is often quite reflective. He sees the world at a surface level, but the things he sees remind him of anecdotes and make him think.
He also encounters Germany. As this book was written in the years immediately following the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany, the question of what it means to be “German” and what the German state would be moving forward were prominent in discussion. Faserland’s narrator sees modern Germany in the cities he visits, but he also is faced with Germany’s past. In the previous paragraph it was mentioned that he often labeled old Germans as Nazis. While this may simply be the narrator being superficial, it also shows a struggle young Germans would have inevitably gone through and likely still go through to this day. How does one reconcile with such a tragic past? Can one be proud to be German? Should there even be a Germany?
The narrator gives his answer to this question in the end of the novel. The final stretch of his voyage takes him out of Germany and into Switzerland. The symbolism here can already be seen, leaving Germany behind in both a physical and potentially metaphorical sense. The answer he gives is an odd one. Similar to how Holden Caulfield envisioned himself in a future where he protected kids from going over a cliff while playing, representing his fears of loss of innocence, the narrator of Faserland sees a future in which he has a family and lives in the mountains in Switzerland. The quote at the top of this post comes from the narrator’s monologue of said future. When his kids would inevitably ask about Germany, he would treat it as though Germany has disappeared. It is the “großen Maschine.” The narrator represents an interesting take on a post-reuinfication Germany. As demonstrated by his fashion obsession, he seemingly loves to participate in the consumer culture of the Western world, but he seems more reluctant to accept it when he steps back from it. It is difficult to tell if his thoughts on Germany come solely from guilt of the country’s Nazi period and the growing consumerism, or if he is merely dissatisfied with his own life, which is certainly another theme of the novel worthy of a blog post of its own. His dream world does not involve Germany though. By not raising children in Germany, he shows a desire to not want the tradition of a “Germany” to continue.
It can be difficult to tell when personal reflection ends and reflections on Germany as a whole begin in Faserland. The novel’s narrator seems so simple at first. His interests include mostly fashion, and that’s it. But as the novel continues, his views on the German state and Germany’s future become more central focuses. It is a complex commentary, and it does not seem that Christian Kracht wants readers to perfectly understand it.
