He doesn't know how long it'll take him to get used to having time. In any case, his head still works just the same as before. What's he going to do with the thoughts still thinking away inside his head? ... The thinking is what he is, and at the same time it's the machine that governs him. Even if he's all alone with his head now, he can't just stop thinking, obviously. ... All these objects surrounding him form a system and have meaning only as long as he makes his way among them with his habitual gestures –– and once he's gone, they'll drift apart and be lost.
The second chapter introduces the group of African refugees protesting in front of Berlin Town Hall and sees them from a variety of perspectives, including the Berliners in the health club across the square.
Behind the windows they would see people on bicycles and people running, bicycling and running toward the enormous windows hour after hour, as if trying to ride or run across to Town Hall as quickly as possible, to declare their solidarity with one or the other side...
These chapters quietly establish parallels between the plight of the refugees, Richard's retirement, and the disappearance of East Germany.
This introduction and Erpenbeck's reputation gave me high hopes for the novel. After the strong beginning, though, the story doesn't have much new to say and becomes one of those stories where a rich white guy learns compassion from the trauma of black immigrants.
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