The Fruit Thief
or, One-Way Journey into the Interior: A Novel
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5.0 • 1 Rating
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- $11.99
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
A major new novel from the Nobel laureate Peter Handke—one of his most inventive and dazzlingly original works
On a summer day under a blue sky a man is stung on his foot by a bee. “The sting signaled that the time had come to set out, to hit the road. Off with you. The hour of departure has arrived.” The man boards a train to Paris, crosses the city by Métro, then boards another, disembarking in a small town on the plains to the north. He is searching for a young woman he calls the Fruit Thief, who, like him, has set off on a journey to the Vexin plateau. What follows is a vivid but dreamlike exploration of topography both physical and affective, charting the Fruit Thief’s perambulations across France’s internal borderlands: alongside rivers and through ravines, beside highways and to a bolt-hole under the stairs of an empty hotel. Chance encounters—with a man scrambling through the underbrush in search of his lost cat, and with a delivery boy who abandons his scooter to become a fellow traveler for a day—are like so many throws of the dice, each exposing new facets of this mysterious individual in the manner of a cubist portrait.
In prose of unrivaled precision, lucidly rendered into English by Krishna Winston, The Fruit Thief elevates the terrain of everyday life to epic status, and situates the microgeography of an individual at the center of a book like few others. This is one of Nobel laureate Peter Handke’s most significant and original achievements.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Nobel laureate Handke (The Moravian Night) delivers a glacially slow but erudite journey through the northern French countryside. It begins on an August day when the narrator, an unnamed older gentleman, sets out from Paris to follow a young woman he calls the "fruit thief" on her trip to Picardy. The fruit thief, whose name is Alexia (a reference to the patron saint of travelers) meanders, spirals, and walks backward through the outer suburbs of Paris on her way toward the Vectin plateau, at times in the company of a delivery boy, a dog, a raven, and a dying cat. But who she is, why she steals fruit, and the purpose of her pilgrimage remains unclear. The author is a savvy explorer of the minutiae of human experience, and makes every hour of his wanderer's sojourn "dramatic, even if nothing happened," as the narrator notes. Handke's descriptions of the landscape's sights and sounds, such as how the peal of church bells bends into the roar of a confluence of rivers, offer much to savor. It adds up to a powerful anthem for "the eternally daunted undaunted," as the narrator calls those "detour-takers" who might relate to the fruit thief, the "bitterness-lovers," and "lost cause defenders." Admirers of the stylistically cavalier Handke will be rewarded for taking in the scenery of this story.
