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 Though I am still thoroughly enjoying the collection of Katherine Mansfield stories, I am also reading Taxi To Paris by Ruth Gogoll. 

I always like to make a short story collection last as long as possible so I often pick up a novel in between readings.

Ruth Gogoll's native language is German so when I read her novels (which I've almost read all of), I'm reading them in translation (by Susan Way.)

As with other books that grab me for personal reasons more than aesthetically pleasing ones, I am finding a lot to like about this very odd romance novel ('romance' being a bit too optimistic for something that is often jaded or bleak.)

There's this passage; the very last part isn't always true upon my first getting to work, but once the time away from the personal problems seems to seep away, it does kick in:

 

My work was a bigger part of my life than I often wanted to admit. I didn’t feel right when I was away from it for any length of time, like for vacation or sick leave. After that, I was usually really happy to get back behind my desk again.  And often, work alone had gotten my personal crisises.

This part, until recently, I could totally get, yet I think that sometimes seeing ourselves in others (our 'bad' selves, especially) helps awaken us a bit. I know I've been like this before and not wanted to (of course), yet it can take someone else (either real or fictional) to kick start you into behaving better.

Either I could convince her to behave toward me as I wanted her to, at least in part, or I was damned to think about her for a very long time, always swaying between joy and hope, disappointment and resignation. Although I couldn’t imagine how I might accomplish the first, I knew from  repeated practice that the second possibility was so exhausting and nerve-racking, I’d rather avoid her altogether.

One character, in particular, has a personal history uneasily familiar:

What had I expected? This wasn’t the first time I’d fallen for a woman who didn’t feel the same way about me. And it certainly wasn’t the first time I’d suffered for it. And had I grown one bit wiser from the experience? No!

I knew how I felt about her, but had yet to identify what exactly was behind that. So I had to think about it.

Taxi To Paris is odd because of how the two characters meet and all the non-romantic aspects to their first encounter...yet as the novel moves slowly (and it does move slowly, though 'good' slowly) it's not the more annoying "Harlequin Hatred" kind of contention (where two people act out their dislike because they secretly have feelings for each other) but honest confliction, given the way they met and how difficult it is for both women to trust. 

It's raw and uncomfortable at times, but a worthwhile read. The fact that both women remain nameless throughout the tale somehow gives Taxi an even more honest, unflinching feel.
 
Hopefully, this all makes sense. I'm writing this bone-tired, yet I still felt the need to write anyway. Ruth Gogoll's novels are all so different from each other (except for the four English books in the L As In Love series) that that alone makes me want to praise her. The open and sometimes even awkward emotions also pull me in, though sometimes as if against my will. Sadly (for me, at least) none of her newer work  (a fifth part in the L As In Love collection and the sequel to Forbidden Passion, a horrible title for a great book), has been translated into English. This makes me want to immediately learn German! :)