Jenny Erpenbeck - Go Went Gone

Jenny Erpenbeck's Go Went Gone was first published in German and deals with the important political issue of Europe and refugees. It's central character is a retired, and widowed, professor of literature, Richard, who finding himself at a loose end after retirement, discovers a community of African refugees who have set up a tent city in Oranienplatz, central Berlin. From late 2012, Oranienplatz was the site of such an encampement and Erpenbeck's book clearly draws on this political protest movement and its consequences, as well as individuals who were part of it. 

Richard is drawn to the refugees, his personal isolation, and his feeling that his life lacks direction in retirement, lead him to think about documenting the lives of the refugees. Quickly however he finds himself helping, encouraging and teaching them. 

I was initially skeptical about the book, worried it was going to turn into a "white saviour" trope as Richard solves all the individual issues that the refugees suffer. Instead it is quite the opposite. Richard finds himself unable to push through the legal barriers erected by a racist German state that provent refugees finding sanctuary or work. He is frustrated that the skills of these men are not utilised by a country desperate for young and experienced workers. He is trapped by the logic of a charity based system of refugee support that only treats the men as passive victims. And finally he is poleaxed by the horrors that he has seen.

Erpenbeck depicts all of this with sympathy, nuance and anger. One of the refugees, Rufu, is medically treated for psychiatric issues. Yet it turns out his fundamental problem is not mental health, but a agonising dental issue that no one has diagnosed, because no one has treated him as a human being and tried to communicate properly. Instead they assume he is having some sort of psychotic episode. Osarobo would like to learn the piano so Richard offers him the use of his own instrument. Richard buys Karon land in Ghana, not because he is a white saviour (he is...) but because the barrier has broken down between them. Richard sees the refugees not as numberless refugees who survived the perilous crossing, but as humans like him.

Since its publication racism directed towards immigrants and refugees in Germany has only increased. State support has been reduced, the lives of refugees have become harder, and the growth of fascist and far-right organisations has fuelled animosity and hatred towards the communities who are desperately seeking a new life and assistance. This book is not a political polemic. There's pages denouncing the European Union whose racist policies have led to thousands drowning in the Mediteranean and fuelled the far-right. But implicit in the book is a sense that liberal politics, when scratched, are really not that liberal - but quite racist.

There's a clever plot line in the book when Richard's middle class, intellectual and academic friends gradually realise that one of their own group is actually quite racist. The shock to them is real. The refugees and their situation, as well as their resistance as they protest the government's plan to displace them once again, has forced the liberal intelligensia to see things differently. The refugees here are not a backdrop - they are humans who want to live their lives, but are forced to fight back because the system itself won't let them have lives.

The ending is, well, ambiguous. Just as the refugee problem under capitalism with its borders, barbed wire and nation states will always be. But there is hope, on an individual level, for Richard and his friends. Their is sympathy, mutual learning and the sharing of meals. But if Jenny Erpenbeck's novel tells us anything - its that this is no solution to the fundamental problem. But that does not mean we shouldn't fight to make people, and governments, see refugees as humans who can help us build the future we want.