Grove by Esther Kinsky
Translated by Caroline Schmidt

Grief takes many forms, especially after the loss of a parent or a partner. Some bottle up the emotions, some let them all out, and others try to find other ways to cope with, and make meaning of, that loss. There are many forms of catharsis, travel being one and writing another; and these two strands come together in a new book from Fitzcarraldo Editions, “Grove” by Esther Kinsky.

It’s been a few months since I read one of this marvellous publisher’s books; in fact, I haven’t picked one up since Lizzy and I co-hosted our Fitzcarraldo Editions Fortnight (which was such fun). I read mostly non-fiction for our event, so it was nice to turn to one of their fiction titles, and Kinsky is an author they’ve published before (her “River” has glowing reviews). So I approached this with interest!

Esther Kinsky was born in Germany and grew up near the Rhine; for a dozen years she lived in London; and she’s also a poet and translator. As “Grove” opens, Kinsky’s unnamed narrator travels to Olevano, a small village to the southeast of Rome. She’s recently bereaved and has taken herself south during the winter months, settling in a temporary dwelling between the village and the cemetery. With this base, she explores the area whilst attempting to come to terms with her loss. Her heart is heavy, her focus intense, and she obviously feels the loss of M., her partner, deeply.

I stood at the window for hours as if inside a bell jar which had covered me and displaced me to my childhood, when in the afternoons and evenings I often felt incapable of doing anything but look out the window. Save that now beneath my hands on the window ledge I could feel M.’s hands. I didn’t see them like I had that morning, only felt them and wondered if this was what had taught me to forget my own hands

The second section of the book opens with death of the narrator’s father, and as she travels home for his funeral, this triggers more memories. Once again, these are of Italy and the narrator explores past family trips to the country, memories dominated by her father’s personality. He often appears to have been a lost man, both psychologically and literally, and there is an emotional distance between them. The narrative slips between past and present; fragmented images of Communist party gatherings, driving through the Italian landscape and his research into the Etruscan past build up a picture of her younger life. In the final part, the narrator visits the north of Italy at a later date, in search of the location of the garden of Finzi-Contini family (from Giorgio Bassani’s classic novel). However, the garden is not to be discovered, although perhaps the search for it has given the narrator comfort.

The garden of the Finzi-Continis remained a space that was shaped and reshaped by memory and interpretation, an area of loss that refused to be found… It was a place that could be found only by sensing its absence, by recalling what was lost…

“Grove” is a stunning piece of writing; Kinsky is a lyrical author, and her prose explores and captures the landscapes through which she wanders beautifully. Inevitably, the book is a melancholy read because of the subject matter and there is a sense that the narrator is seeking comfort or meaning in the lands she visits. However, she so often encounters bleakness or disintegration, in the form of half-built areas or landscapes being destroyed for modern constructions, that it does make you wonder what solace she found in her travels. She so often seems a displaced person, unable to find where she fits in the world like so many of the refugees she encounters as she journeys through Italy.

Esther Kinsky in 2016 via Wikimedia Commons [Heike Huslage-Koch / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D

There’s also a sense of the fluidity of time throughout the narrative, as the author explores her past and present; and there’s also a feeling of continuity, with her father’s intense search for the Etruscan necropoli mirrored by the narrator’s focus on, and regular visits to, the many cemeteries she seems to encounter.

Like other works I’ve read from Fitzcarraldo which are published in their blue ‘fiction’ livery, it’s hard not to see this book as some kind of autofiction; the narrator refers to her departed partner as M., and of course Kinsky was married to the literary translator Martin Chalmers, who sadly died quite young in 2014. Although the book is described firmly as a novel, it’s impossible not to see it as very much informed by Kinsky’s own life experiences. However, that’s by the by. Whether novel, autofiction or disguised autobiography, “Grove” is a mesmerising, beautiful and melancholy piece of writing. Her writing is compelling and poetic, and having loved this book I may well have to search out her earlier work, “River”!

Review copy kindly provided by the publisher, for which many thanks. There is an interesting piece on the book and its locations on their blog here.