Broken Glass Park by Alina Bronsky

Biography

Alina Bronsky was born in Jekaterinburg (Russia) in 1978 and lives in Frankfurt. She was brought up on the Asian side of the Urals as well as in Marburg and Darmstadt. Dropped out of medical school. Copywriter and editor for a daily newspaper.

Interview with Alina Bronsky From La Repubblica (Italy) Courtesy of Europa Editions

The Old Testament reads: “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” Sascha, a seventeen-year-old Russian immigrant in Germany has two dreams: to kill her stepfather Vadim, and to write a book about her murdered mother. She navigates the Russian ghetto where she lives and contemporary Berlin with both the cynical savvy of a streetwise adult and the fragility of a child, moving midst cultures caught between impending modernity, obsolete traditions, and social inequities. She faces life headfirst, protecting her loved ones, looking for a ray of light, all the while mired in hardships. She longs for something to “touch her closely,” to caress her soul. In a style that is powerful and clear, the Russian-born Alina Bronsky gives us Sascha’s story, a deeply touching story that cuts like a diamond; the story of a young woman facing a bitter present and an uncertain future.

You interrupted your studies in medicine in order to write, and become a copyeditor. How did that happen?

Truth is, I'm still asking myself why I started studying medicine in the first place. I’ve always wanted to write books. I wrote my first short story when I was five, and I haven’t stopped writing since. Nonetheless, I tried, wholeheartedly, to enter what I thought was a serious profession: medicine. I’ve always been drawn to the natural sciences. But I quit after a short stint, and began doing something that was a bit closer to creative writing: I began working as a journalist and a copywriter.

I’ve heard that you submitted your manuscript by post and received positive responses after only a week. What was your reaction to these responses?

I was so happy. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like Cinderella when she is invited to the ball. At first, I didn’t tell anyone about it because I thought I was only dreaming.

Are there similarities between you and Sascha?

Some people think so. They say I talk like Sascha sometimes. But I can't see it. Sascha has much more courage and more ambitions than I. I would like to have her strength and also some other characteristics of hers, but under better circumstances of course.

I love Sascha’s personality: she’s so proud and skeptical, yet innocent and fragile. So determined to assure herselfa better future, so courageous. She’s a real heroine, isn't she? Which is a rarity nowadays.

Thank you. I like her very much, too. And you are completely right; she is also a very ambivalent person. But I don't think she is a rarity. I've met real girls who are no less courageous than her.

She hates men, but at the same time she is mesmerized by Volker and Felix, which demonstrates her ability to adapt to their circumstances and the world around her, an adult work that is also a fragile, childlike one at the same time. You can't really consider her a bad girl, not at all! She is self-destructive and hurtful at times, eager for protection at others, and this is not a contradiction in her very broad personality.

Well, sometimes she really is a bad girl—at least, she certainly likes to behave like one

Sometimes she is arrogant and she knows very well how to hurt other people's feelings. I was expecting some German readers not to like her because of her dark sides. But most of them seem to forgive her everything. I not sure I completely understand it.

Concerning the theme of immigration/emigration, is that really so difficult for a Russian to find a human dimension in Germany?

I'm afraid it is, at least for some immigrants. Emigration is very hard and stressful sometimes, especially for older people or for a teenager who is growing up under such catastrophic conditions.

Were you aware ofany particular literary influences, or did you draw inspiration from any particular sources while you were working? Do you have any ideas for your next book?

I read a lot, there are plenty of books and authors I admire but I am not aware of any explicit influence on my novel.

I just finished my second novel; it’s about a very special woman, a grandmother who spends her life moving between three different cultures.

Jewcy Interview: Alina Bronsky, Author of “Broken Glass Park”

By Margarita Korol / June 23, 2010

Since the whirlwind release of her 2008 debut novel in Germany, Russian native Alina Bronsky now continues to storm the book world with Broken Glass Park, published this year in English by Europa Editions. After its original release, the book magnetized national attention and directed it toward a fresh angle of Russian stereotypical caricatures rarely observed by Germany’s nonimmigrant society.

Murder, homemade cakes, and Soviet mothers project on the reader’s mind’s eye as Bronsky caricatures at a fast-pace the ideologies surrounding the witty, sarcastic, tough-yet-vulnerable teenage narrator living in the Emerald, a modern-day "Russian ghetto" housing middle-to-lower-class émigrés in Frankfurt. Recalling another European hit stateside, Stieg Larsson’s Lisbeth Salander in Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (originally called Men Who Hate Women in Swedish) is a comparable tainted, young female protagonist ready to take matters into her own hands, determined not to be screwed over again. The setting entraps Sascha in a sort of post-communist mentality hell that seems to be going nowhere while the world revolves around them, as exposed at the book’s launch.

Preceding an NPR interview in front of a live audience taped for Chicago Amplified at the Goethe Institut in which host Susan Harris compares the book to Catcher in the Rye, I sit down with Bronsky on behalf of Jewcy one-on-one. In the German oasis on Chicago’s Michigan Avenue, two emigrant women discuss literature in broken Russian. Bronsky in her German-Russian accent and I in my American-encrusted one chat about themes of adaptation, otherness, and survival threaded through the novel (interview translated from the Russian and abridged).

[Bronsky's next book narrated from the perspective of a babushka and spanning three generations comes out in August.]

Why use a pseudonym?

I always wanted to have a pseudonym, even before writing this novel. While I wanted my book to gain popularity, I myself didn’t want to become a public figure. Of course I didn’t expect to reach great popularity in the first place, but I wanted to hide a bit behind the scenes.

Do you consider this to be a Russian book?

Actually, no. I consider it a German novel, a European novel. I’ve often been asked if I’d like the book translated into Russian, but I’m not really into it. Of course I’m not against it; I’ve never rallied against it. This is really an overall European book in that it opens up borders for Germans where I live. It lets them into a world that they are unfamiliar with. I’m not sure a Russian audience would have the same kind of experience.

OK, but the chess, the overbearing yet comforting mothers, the kitchen full of freshly baked cakes, the abusive men: this is all Russian imagery that a Postcommunist audience could relate to, no?

(Laughing) I see what you mean. To make it palpable to a German audience though, I integrated caricature. Making light of a very tragic story by painting it in a humorous light through Sascha’s voice allows a sort of distance from the harsh reality. This isn’t reportage. Although all these elements do indeed exist in Russian immigrant culture, I found that culture very fitting for caricaturing.

Do you think the main character, Sascha was fortunate to be an immigrant?

I think so. She was able to orient in such a way to be exposed to many perspectives and to escape the undesirable ones. Of course the choice to emigrate was not given to her since she came as a child. I’ve often been asked the same question on how to consider immigration in this book. It’s a very interesting question; for her, yes she was fortunate, but for her family it was obviously a big tragedy living in the Emerald.

Do you relate to Sascha?

Not really. It’s not my autobiography. She carries herself this way because of all the tragic things in her life, and throughout the book she is trying to survive. Several things like details relating to immigration do derive from my own life, but most come from my background in journalism.

What is the significance of Intelligence as her weapon of choice?

Her sharp intelligence does help her survive. It’s apparent that in this "ghetto" she’s a stranger that nobody likes but does respect. The same thing in school-she is very respected because of her intelligence, but friendship does not come her way. It’s sort of her Kapital. This is similar to the Russian immigrant mentality-even if you’ve got nothing, you can always fall back on your skills and brains.

Meanwhile, throughout the book are adages like, "When you know too much you get old and wrinkle faster. That’s a Russian saying." Do you think these are remnants of communist propaganda that seeped into the post-communist citizen’s mind?

Very interesting question. I think that in Russia, how can I explain this psychology? When people lived in difficult circumstances, they tried not to know much to avoid blame if anything came up. I think these things come from deep roots, but I’m not sure. There are many tales of very intelligent women in folktales.

In Germany, however, there are fewer of these. One is the folktale of clever Elsa who thinks too much and thus bad things happen to her. Traditionally, Germans here were conveying through this that women shouldn’t be thinking too hard about their situations. Slavic stories, on the other hand, don’t really have this theme, but rather encourage thoughtfulness. It would be interesting to look into.

Is there something particular in Russian culture that propagates abusive, alcoholic men?

Good question. Why are Russian men so awful? No, of course there are good men in Russia. But I do agree that there is a certain way of raising boys and men that propagates this weakness of character. I don’t want to speak for them all, there are really splendid Russian men. But this behavior is a seed that is really instilled early on.

But, women are probably also to blame, just like Sascha’s mother allows this kind of abusive behavior to continue in her household without taking action. These things happen. Unfortunately this is really a typical story, this tragic episode of a man murdering his ex-wife and her new lover. I used to do journalistic reporting and I constantly came across such stories. Not just among Russian immigrants, but also among Germans and Muslims-this kind of dynamic really isn’t unique to one ethnicity or demographic.

Was the most loathsome human quality for Sascha one that was also her mother’s fatal flaw, passivity?

Sascha’s mother wasn’t weak, but a too kind person. The problem for Sascha is that she sees the quality of a person compromised when they don’t defend themselves or the people they care about from things they don’t believe in.

On the one hand, Sascha very much loves and respects her mother post-mortem. But on the other hand, she regrets what happened and replays the weaknesses that led to this tragedy.

Who did you write this novel for?

I wrote it for myself. If you asked me while I was writing it, I would have said that I imagined the reader to be somebody like me-how old was I, 27? So she would be not too wise, but a bright young woman. I didn’t think much of it.

But then when the book was published and got picked up by the mainstream, it was being read by everyone-it was really something. At first it was adults, nobody thought it would fly for adolescents or teenagers. I would have readings and the audiences were comprised of people ranging in age from 25 to 80.

Then, teachers somehow gained interest and now it is being assigned as required reading in many German schools.

Very few books and movies in the past have portrayed a main character with the perspective of a young woman coming out of an abusive family. Recently Steig Larrson’s Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds allow these women to fight back with the skills they gained from their unique adaptation. What do you attribute this new phenomenon to that Sascha is now a part of?

It seems that it couldn’t have been that this was never present, but perhaps never spotlighted. This is more a question of strong women in difficult situations, which has always been present in plots. Definitely though, domestic abuse entering public awareness in recent years might have something to do with it.

What would you like readers to derive from Broken Glass Park?

Really, I don’t ask for much. I’m very pleased that it is being read at all. I don’t think I necessarily have a singular message. I am often approached by adolescents whose lives were changed by the book. I was told of one girl who was ready to quit school, and she was gifted this book. After reading it, she decided to rethink that decision and continued on to finish school.

Teenagers who hate reading but enjoyed reading my book-that is definitely the best compliment for me. They tell me "I really despise reading, but your book isn’t so awful." That is actually very flattering comparatively!

Do you think this story would pan out differently if it was set among immigrants in an American city like New York or Chicago?

I’ve definitely thought about this. This is a story of adaptation. I don’t know how much easier it is in America for men like Vadim, the abusive ex-husband to adapt, but you probably know better than me. But I’m under the impression it should be fairly similar to the Russian immigrant experience in Germany.

This isn’t just a question of immigration to Germany, but also the immigrant experience at large, as well as human experience in success via adaptation.

What is the significance of Sascha’s friendship with Germans outside the influence of the Russian ghetto?

Her friendship with Felix and Volker does much to evolve her character. It is the first time she is exposed to German culture since they are her first German friends who accept her, or her first real friends, truly. It made her perspective richer, as it is said in German. Stepping outside her own traumatic existence, she has to compare her world to theirs, and sees that they are also humans with their own tragedies. This changes her perspective of the outside world.

Sascha’s urge to escape (whether through sex, drugs, rock and roll, or running away) as a means of coping resembles the immigrant experience-would you say this is a valid response to her situation?

I think so. She really puts a lot on herself. She takes responsibility for her family, her younger brother and sister. This point in her teenage life is the first time she chooses to drop it all and let others handle their problems as she leaves for the unknown.

I met a professor who was publishing a pamphlet on the subject of how Sascha’s character and others reacting to post-traumatic stress adapt. He found that this is very accurate to real-life behavior. I really found that interesting because I meant only to write about a unique girl, not a type. But I suppose even this became a sort of caricature

http://www.jewcy.com/arts-and-culture/jewcy_interview_alina_bronsky_author_broken_glass_park

Interview with Alina Bronsky, author of “Broken Glass Park” (from Words Without Borders)

By Daniela Hurezanu

Alina Bronsky, a German writer of Russian origin, immigrated to Germany when she was thirteen, and published her first novel, Broken Glass Park, in 2008 when she was only thirty years old. The novel was very well received by both the public and the critics and was nominated for the Bachmann Prize, one of Europe's most important literary prizes.

Broken Glass Park (translated by Tim Mohr, Europa Editions, 2010), a novel about immigrants, doesn’t display any of the characteristics of the “ethnic” novels written these days in the States, including those about Russians: no picturesque Russian women, no funny and avuncular Russian men, no big families that enjoy eating succulent, “exotic” meals, and generally, no atmosphere reminiscent of My Big, Fat Greek Wedding (which is the ethos of most “ethnic” literature). In Broken Glass Park, all Russian men are drunks, Russian women are idiots because they live with them, and Russian children and teenagers are like all other children and teenagers. What makes this novel a great, enjoyable read is its very well written dialogue and the strong voice of the heroine, Sascha Naimann. One has the impression that the author has written this book very easily, almost as if playing a game, yet at the end you realize that the novel has some powerful characters: Volker (the older man Sascha falls in love with) and his son Felix; Sascha’s two young siblings and the cousin who takes care of them, and of course, Sascha herself.

This interview was conducted several days after the PEN/World Voices festival (April 26-May 2, 2010), where Alina Bronsky was one of the featured authors.

Daniela Hurezanu: You mentioned during the PEN/World Voices “Incognito: Writers and their Aliases” panel that you took a pen name with the intention of creating a public persona different from the private one. This idea was partially motivated, you said, by the desire to protect your family and children, who have the right to keep their privacy even if you are a public person. But you touched upon the main reason when you said: “The practice of naming is a mystery, and to take a pseudonym means to create not only a work but also a writer.” Could you elaborate on that?

Alina Bronsky: The playful handling of the “mystery of naming” wasn’t more important for me than the desire to protect my family and children, yet after almost two years since my first publication is still fascinating. I feel it still represents my work and my personality as a writer in a wonderful way. The release of one’s first book is a huge step for every writer, hopefully to be followed by many other books. I liked the idea of giving myself a new name for a successful start, in the same way other people would buy special equipment or beautiful clothes for their first day at the office.

DH: You are, obviously, bilingual. During the same panel, you also said that German is for you a public language, while Russian is a family language. And when prompted by the moderator, you acknowledged that you have a different character in each language. I am very interested in this because I am trilingual and I know I have a different style in each language. Could you explain in what way are you different in German and in Russian (both as a person and as a writer)?

AB: I’m still the same in different languages, though each allows me, of course, another form of expression. Russian is more emotional, familiar, and rich in nuances; but I also feel more vulnerable when I speak or write in it.German is very precise, it allows more distance during communication. It is perfect for exact descriptions, even of volatile and emotional subjects.

DH: There are many modern writers who have said that their home is their language. What do you think about that? Do you feel at home in Germany or in Russia?

AB: I agree with them. I am not very attached to countries or cities. My home is my family, and I can read and write in Russian and German everywhere. I don’t feel less comfortable in an English-speaking country, even though my English is far from perfect.

DH: Your novel, Broken Glass Park, is written in a voice that is somewhat paradoxical because, on the one hand, this is the voice of a very young woman, but one the other, it sounds very mature. The heroine, Sascha Naimann, isn’t you, obviously, but I assume that of all the characters, she is the one that comes closest to an alter ego. How much of yourself did you put in her?

AB: It’s difficult to say—maybe nothing of myself, maybe everything, like in every other character of my books. The parallels between Sascha and me are rather superficial, she is definitely not me, but she still reveals a lot about me. I assume writers almost always write about themselves, their world, their experiences, the things they are interested in, mostly in an encoded form, and if you don’t have the key to the code, it might be impossible to separate the writer from his fiction.

DH: Sascha Naimann lives in a poor, immigrant neighborhood—what we would call here “in the projects”—and her mother has been violently murdered by her former husband. Did you ever live in such a neighborhood? Are the characters in the book similar to people you’ve met or are they entirely fictional?

AB: There was a short period in my life when I lived in a neighborhood such as the one described in Broken Glass Park. My family and I moved out soon, but I continued to have friends there. That’s why I happen to know something about such places. The characters in Broken Glass Park are sometimes a little exaggerated, but they are still realistic and based on my experience.

DH: I really liked the narratorial distance in your novel—I mean, the distance (the lack of pathos, I would say) the narrator/the heroine has in relation to the world and what happens to her. This detachment, which sometimes morphs into cruelty—like in the scene with the twenty-four-year-old young man she goes on a date with—reminded me of certain young, contemporary Japanese women writers, such as Yoko Ogawa. Who are the young, contemporary writers you read and with whom you identify?

AB: I’m glad you liked it, thank you very much. Unfortunately, so far I haven’t read any contemporary Japanese women writers. Maybe I should. I read a lot, but I don’t identify with anybody. My main motivation is to write books that, as I feel it, haven’t been written before.

DH: Who are the writers and the books that have most influenced you?

AB: I automatically analyze every book I read—what I like or dislike in it in terms of style and content. I was impressed by so many different books, for instance, The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov, and Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. In terms of style I learned a lot from the Russian-American author Sergej Dovlatov, a master of laconic, yet lively style.

DH: Can you share some of your secrets as a writer? I mean, how do you create? Where does your created world come from?

AB: I don’t really know, I feel like it is somewhere outside, and sometimes I have the chance to see it and describe it. Writing is a great pleasure for me. The most important and difficult thing for me is to wait till an idea ripens like an apple. Then I can just pick it and there is not much trouble with it. It never works when I start to write prematurely … which happens rather often.

Published May 12, 2010 Copyright 2010 Daniela Hurezanu

http://wordswithoutborders.org/dispatches/article/interview-with-alina-bronsky-author-of-broken-glass-park/

"Germany tightens Jewish immigration rules"
By Richard Bernstein
February 21, 2005 New Yorkimes

BERLIN — Since the beginning of the year, new rules on immigration have had the effect of sharply reducing the numbers of Jews immigrating to Germany, at least temporarily ending a 15-year policy aimed at rebuilding the Jewish community that was destroyed by the Nazis.

Over the past decade, as a result of the virtual blanket acceptance of Jews from the former Soviet Union, Germany's Jewish population has risen from roughly 29,000 to more than 200,000, which is more than one-third of the prewar total.

But at the moment, almost all those special privileges have been brought to an end, as the German government and Jewish groups work out a new set of guidelines on immigration that both sides desire for different reasons.

It seems likely that former Soviet Jews will eventually have some of their former privileged position restored, but there also seems little doubt that the numbers of Jews accepted for immigration to Germany are going to fall sharply.

"The politicians for home policy support the future immigration of Jews," Dieter Wiefelspütz, a member of Parliament, said after a special parliamentary committee meeting to discuss this issue in January. But he went on to say that Germany needed to put more emphasis on the job qualifications and German language skills of potential immigrants, rather than simply accept anybody from the former Soviet Union who claims Jewish lineage.

"I have the impression that they want to close down the whole program," Stephan Kramer, general secretary of the Central Council of Jews, the official representative of the German Jewish community, said in an interview, arguing that the new conditions demanded by Germany were vague and hard to put into practice.

"They haven't presented an objective list of conditions that one can control," he said.

Like anything connected with Jews in Germany, the immigration issue is delicate. Germany's concerted effort to rebuild Jewish life, essentially by importing it from the former Soviet Union, has been a matter of some pride in this country, evidence that it has changed from a country that persecuted Jews to a country where Jews want to come to live.

The system that just ended was agreed to in the months after the collapse of the Soviet system and quintupled the country's Jewish population by opening the doors to new arrivals from all over the former Soviet empire. Today, about 89 Jewish communities are scattered all over Germany, with Berlin, once the Nazi capital, the largest of them.

But Jewish immigration is complicated, and very few involved in it - including the German government, the Jewish community and Israel - have been entirely happy with the record. Everybody wants some changes from the policy of the last decade, but there are fierce arguments about exactly what they should be.

Germany wants to improve the quality of its immigrants in general, and has passed new legislation, which came into effect on Jan. 1, requiring all immigrants to meet some educational and language requirements to reduce the burden on the social security system. Anticipating the new law, interior ministers of the 16 state governments of Germany announced in December that Jews should essentially be covered by the new law.

This change was welcomed by Israel, which has complained for years that Germany's encouragement of Jewish immigration had the effect of discouraging former Soviet Jews from going to Israel itself. Indeed, last year for the first time, more former Soviet Jews, many of them no doubt attracted by Germany's generous social services network, settled in this country than in Israel.

"It shouldn't come as a surprise that at the end of the day Israel would like to see the Jews immigrate to Israel, not to Germany," Shimon Stein, Israel's ambassador to Germany, said in an interview.

Jewish leaders also welcome some new restrictions, but for different reasons. Past German policy in a way inverted the notorious Nuremberg Laws of 1935, when the Nazis barred Jews from most areas of German life. The reasoning after 1989 was that anybody who would have been persecuted by the Nuremberg definition of a Jew ought now to be granted safe haven in the new Germany.

But this in effect meant that tens of thousands of people admitted as Jews by Germany would not be seen as Jews by the official Jewish community, which follows the millennia-old rule that a Jew is someone whose mother is Jewish or who formally converts.

Because of this, as well as other factors, only about 80,000 of the new arrivals have officially joined Jewish communities, while more than 100,000 have simply melted into German society. Jewish leaders say many of those who are registered with the community are older people, less able to integrate and more likely to be dependent on welfare.

So the effect of immigration has been mixed. Experts on Jewish immigration say the former policy has left the Jewish population, which is largely Russian, lacking the knowledge and resources to recreate a genuinely vibrant Jewish life, certainly in the religious sense. A result is that many of the Jews who have found jobs do not belong to the Jewish community, while many others remain strangers to German life and customs.

"The immigration has been a success in the sense that interesting people are coming to Germany - artists and writers for example," said Julius Schoeps, director of the Moses Mendelssohn Center in Potsdam, which studies Jewish immigration. "But it hasn't been a successful integration into the Jewish community, and it hasn't been a success at all for integration into the German community."

It is in part out of recognition of these problems that the interior ministers of the 16 German states, who have a good deal of authority over immigration, began last year to negotiate with the Jewish Council over changes in the regulations regarding future Jewish immigration.

The Jewish side, too, agreed on restrictions, Kramer said, in part to relieve the burden on the communities of having to provide services to thousands of people who, by Jewish law, are not considered Jewish.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/20/world/europe/20iht-rhine.html?pagewanted=print