Thursday, August 19, 2010



Lilian Faschinger's Magdalene the Sinner (translated in the version I read by Shaun Whiteside, to the left above; also available in a translation by Edna McCown, to the right) is a rather disturbed novel, one about a serial killer which handles that subject as if no more important than any of the other elements that fill this short text. The murders take no precedent over the make and model of her motorcycle or the varieties of Austrian pastries she longs for. The narrator is a priest, kidnapped by Magdalene, so we ought by all rights get a more sane narration from him than we have in her long monologues, and yet my impression is that he is equally mad or, perhaps, that Faschinger is the one who is insane. This effect was heightened in the copy I read -- found in a lending library in a coffee shop in Cambridge -- that was billed as "AN UNCORRECTED TYPESCRIPT FOR ADVANCED READING PURPOSES ONLY." The back cover promises that the final release will be accompanied by "high-profile author interviews" and "extensive national review coverage," and yet, though the book appeared in Whiteside's translation in 1996, a search on Amazon suggests that it was only McCown's translation that was published, at least in the US (HarperCollins). Due to the lack of copy editing in my advanced copy, the numerous errors made the book seem as if the late-night ramblings of a madwoman.

I didn't quite like it, nor would I call it a "good novel," and yet I was utterly compelled throughout, unable to put it down, and I'd strongly recommend it. This makes me wonder why I would say I didn't like it and it wasn't good. Its great strangeness, particularly its peculiar diction (possibly in part the result of the translation), carried me through the highly problematic narrative of abuse, murder (sometimes fairly justifiable and sometimes not), eroticism and, briefly and, again, offhandedly (and happily surprising me) monstrosity of the most literal sort (though perhaps this is, again, pure madness). I don't know that I'd buy a copy, but then, if you happen to come across one in a cafe, swipe it without hesitation. Strap on your helmet, jump into the sidecare of Magdalene's Puch 800, and hold on.