An Abundance of Tropes
Towards the Walachei and Adulthood
From the moment Tschick hit German bookstores in 2010, it became a national phenomenon. Not only was it instantly considered to be the definitive German “Road-movie” long before a film had been made, but it would also hold a steady spot atop Der Spiegel's German best seller list and its theatrical adaptation would be the most performed piece of the 2012/2013 season with nearly 100,000 attendees. Its popularity stems not just from the authors incorporation of proper youth slang and updating of classic literary tropes to a modern German context, but also from its ability to highlight the interconnected nature of the modern world. It does this not only in its borrowing of international youth literature trends, but also through the plot's emphasis on the blurriness of borders and cultures. Ultimately, it is a story of individualism, of finding yourself and your place in the world, but it does so by having its main characters undertake a literal exploration of a provincial border region, where languages and cultures blend. This sub-text is not the focus of the novel but simply one avenue through which its protagonists come to terms with themselves. However, it is also this layered presentation of the children's existence in a multi-cultural world that establishes the novels contemporariness, especially to Gen Z and younger.
The novel begins with a cold-open, giving away the how the trip of the two main protagonists will end before it has even begun. This opening chapter also clearly foreshadows Maik’s advantages and limitations as a narrator. His inner monologues are brief but rich, providing humor but also highlighting gaps in his knowledge, understanding, and maturity. Most popular YA novels, even those largely read by younger readers, feature slightly older protagonists. In the Hunger Games (2008) by Suzanne Collins, which was hugely popular in the elementary and middle school age ranges, the main characters start out at 16 years old. John Green’s (staring in 2005) characters have also been 16 to 18 years old typically. Most other YA books since have been derivative of one of those two authors works and have kept the age range consistent, so it is refreshing to see a take on a coming-of-age storying coming from a slightly different age range.
Following the cold open, the novel transitions to showing Maik with his classmates. His descriptions of various aspects of his school experience include a mix of lucid explanation of social and societal norms, surreal descriptions of adult behavior, and incredibly childlike misunderstandings that are only truly possible in that “middle school” age-range. The novel takes a turn with the emergence of Tschick, an asocial, Russian-German of Mongolian descent who makes no friends and comes to school smelling of alcohol. Naturally, there must be an inciting incident, and in this case, Tschick shows up and cajoles Maik into joining him in the “borrowed” Lada to make it to the party almost everyone but them was invited to. This feeling of being left out or feeling unseen by a romantic interest is essentially the defining feature of middle school for most people— obviously for those who are more on the loner side (who, I would bet, also make up a disproportionately large share of the middle schoolers who actually purchase books) —but even for those who seem generally popular.
From there, Tschick and Maik decide to head for Die Walachei, only after Maik is slowly convinced that it is an actual place and not just a German equivalent for “The Sticks” as in the saying “out in the sticks.” They head in the general direction of South, choosing their turns at crossroads based on coin-flips and miscalculated numbers-games. They meet nobles, a hippie family, and the Manic Landfill Dream Girl Isa, bot nothing much really “happens”. They just talk. They talk about the possibility of English-Frenchmen and Jewish Zigeuners, explore issues of sexuality and queerness, imagine insect aliens who imagine humans, and see signs and busses in foreign languages being all the while only slightly less confused than we are as to exactly where they are. Then as Maik sums it up himself, “Tschick und ich sind mit dem Auto herumgefahren, aber dann haben wir uns funf mal uberschlagen, nachdem einer auf uns geschossen hatte. Alles nicht so schlimm”
“funf mal uberschlagen, nachdem einer auf uns geschossen hatte. Alles nicht so schlimm”
Car flipped over five times after someone shot at us. Overall, not too bad.
That sort of understated narration is one thing Phillip Ardagh praises in his brief 2014 review for The Guardian. He describes the result as both insightful and funny. He discusses the unique circumstances around Herrndorf’s life and death, and recommends the book with not truly much else outside of synopsis to say. Even lengthier German reviews are often similarly fairly sparse on analysis. Reviews such as the one by Gerrit Bartels for Die Zeit in 2010 praise the way it captures the personalities and speaking style of its characters. Celebrate its humor and surrealness, and at the end states that is a successful book solely because it is fun and attention capturing. It is not really meant for literature critics.
“Der ganze Mist, den Literaturkritiker schreiben, könne man vergessen, es komme nur darauf an, dass es einen erwischt, kalt erwischt. Genau, so ist [Tschick].”
A longer review in Der Spiegel echoes similar points and says that while it is comprised of many common tropes (gay best friend, best friend of color, manic pixie dream girl, we three friends, vague destination, und so weiter un so fort) and is intentionally lacking depth at parts, some of those cliches are more familiar in America and France but are actually relatively new in German domestic production. The review believes the book captures the feeling of being and having been 14 years old well. “There’s hardly a trope the novel doesn't include”, but sometimes life is trope-ish after all.
Finally, Vicky Smith in her review for Kirkus Reviews discusses how Maik’s fits of imagination and strange self-imposed rules perfectly establish his age and character. This is something I can strongly relate to. She also writes that the mix of American, International, and German pop cultural references and the diversity of its characters itself make it particular valuable novel for young Americans to read in translation.
The topics are explored not in the style of an academic, but in a particular style of reflection common in childhood, a style that influences the identity formation that continues to shape people into adulthood. Herrndorf was not trying to be original, he was trying to update the books he had read, and synthesize the youth literature traditions of a variety of countries and time periods in a way that would speak to modern Germans. The reception seems to indicate he succeeded in a way beyond even the hopes of his imaginative narrator. Reading the book, I had long thought that it bore the feel of another coming of age format from yet another cultural contributor: The Japanese Ishekai. In an Ishekai, the main character is transported into a parrel world. The region they are in is real and their journey features people from a variety of backgrounds and languages interacting. But it is also a world foreign from their own, one where Maik’s imagination and perspective transform it into a setting alien enough for an extraterrestrial insect to have dreamt it up in dread. I did not know how to square that feeling with the real life setting of the novel until the Spiegel review described as “The parallel world of Puberty”.
There is something inherently unique about being stuck in that liminal space between childhood and adulthood, unique even though every adult alive has gone through it. It is a journey with a vague concept of an end-point (Adulthood/Die Wallachei), but no definitively determined definition of what that means or what will be done once there. There are wrong turns and awkward encounters along the way. This is a coming of age story, but, despite the judicial verdict, is not about loss of innocence. Eventually, the journey has to be made. But it doesn’t have to be all at once. You can hold your breath for quite a while.
