Thanks NetGalley and Mariana Leky for an ARC to review.
I don't know how to describe this book or the feelings it gave me.
I laughed, cried..it saddened me, gave me hope,..made me actually forget the real world while I was reading..while I was there in that enchanting forest, with Selma and all the characters orbiting around her.
I can see reviews are contradictory regarding the book, but personally I fell in love with it, with the characters and the writing style and dear old Alasaka ❤
I absolutely loved it.

Let's just talk about that gorgeous cover of this book. It's one of my favorites.

What You Can See from Here is a quirky little story about a woman who sometimes dreams of an okapi. And when she does, someone dies.

I'll admit that this took me awhile to get through. I'm not sure if it was just an issue with the translation (the book was originally written in German), but I found myself not connecting with it like I had hoped and kept leaving it to finish other books.

Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux for making this available on Netgalley.

Magic realism is a genre that is most often associated with Latin America. For instance, Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude may immediately spring to mind when you think of magic realism works. However, this type of fiction — where the real and magical blend, often with no explanation (or at least one that you might find in a more conventional fantasy novel) — is a worldwide phenomenon. You can look to Great Britain and a writer such as Salman Rushdie, who combines the genre with historical fiction. Or you could look to Japan and see the work that Haruki Murakami sometimes offers. However, magic realism’s roots are in Germany, to a painting style that was in vogue in the 1920s. This is à propos because my latest book for review is by a German writer named Mariana Leky, whose third novel, What You Can See from Here, which was originally published in German in 2017 and now has an English translation, has a light magic realism touch to it. It’s certainly a quirky novel, one that is sometimes weird for the sake of being weird but is beguiling in doses. It’s a light and breezy read that paradoxically demands that you pay close attention to it and there are some rewards for doing so.

The novel is set in the former West Germany and spans a period of about 20 years beginning in April 1983. Luise is a 10-year-old girl when we first meet her and her grandmother Selma is quite the character. Whenever Selma dreams of an okapi — a real-life creature that is a cross between a zebra and a giraffe (and other mammals) that was unknown to the Western world until the 20th century (thanks, Wikipedia!) — someone in the village that the pair lives in will die within a roughly 24-hour time span. So the novel opens with the fact that Selma has had one of her okapi dreams and word about it spreads rapidly through the village. People turn to superstitions to help them prevent being the one who meets an untimely demise. I’m not going to spoil who bites the dust, but it is a little shocking when you find out. In any event, the book is mostly a coming-of-age story as Luise grows up beyond the initial 24-hour deathwatch (which shouldn’t be a spoiler because the novel is narrated from her point of view) and falls in love with a Buddhist monk who is visiting from Japan. A subplot involves a character only named as “the optician” (though we do find out his real name eventually) pining for Selma but can never articulate his love for her.

In a sense, What You Can See from Here is a novel about love and missed opportunities. Luise and the monk make for star-crossed lovers who come and go from each other’s lives due to the long-distant nature of their relationship. But the volume is also a sopping love letter to German small towns and the oddball and eccentric characters who populate them. For instance, there is a character named Marlies who is a bit of an Eeyore-esque sad sack who mopes around her house wearing nothing but a sweater and panties. A beehive has made its home under the mailbox at the end of her drive, signifying that this is a potentially dangerous and unhinged character. There’s additionally a book-store owner that Luise winds up working for who has squirreled away all sorts of obsolete electronics at his store, indicating that this is a character who clings to the past. And so it goes. For all of this, What You Can See from Here is a rich story loaded with hidden meanings that you have to read without a wandering mind. And be sure that you’re paying attention because things are mentioned at the front of the book that come back in importance towards its conclusion.

However, one of the problems with What You Can See from Here is that, although the translation from German is written in layman’s prose, I found that the characters were so weird to an extent that it was hard to get invested in their plights. My thoughts would occasionally drift to other things, only to discover that, say, an imp had somehow landed on the shoulder of one of the characters and you had to backpedal a few pages to understand how it got there or what it even was. A lot of the description is off-the-cuff, matter-of-fact and muted, which is, yes, in keeping with the stylistic tics of magic realism where nothing is explained (it just exists) so you have to linger over sentences and have a good memory to keep track of what’s going on in the narrative.

The other problem with the book is that the character who dies not long after the outset of the book has little bearing on what happens in the rest of the plot. You could have easily excised the whole “dreams of an okapi will result in death” angle and the book would be no lesser or worse for it. The death is hardly referenced in the second and third acts of the novel, so one wonders why it is even there to begin with. Ultimately, that makes What You Can See from Here a recommended library read, not a book that you should purchase first — you should browse it first to see if you like it, and, if so, only then (if you think you’re going to re-read it again at some point, maybe to catch references you might have missed) buy a copy.

Obviously, Leky is a talented writer and you can see why she has won literary awards in her native Germany as she certainly has her style down pat (if that’s not the work of the translator doing a good job). The romance angles are also very compelling. It’s simply a bit disappointing that the novel as a whole doesn’t quite gel as it should. Also, given the setting and time period of the novel, one might expect a more political read but that’s not the case — which seems like a missed opportunity. Still, if you’re curious and have a library card, What You Can See from Here is, pardon the expression, worth a glance. It’s certainly a different book, but your opinion of it will probably be shaped by how much magic realism you read. It deals with a heavy subject matter (death) with a light touch (love), and readers of a certain stripe just might be won over by this kind of thing. Try, don’t buy, it first, and, well, see for yourself if there’s any fuss here.

I always try to read every book that is given to me, or that I have requested. However there are times that I just can't get into a book... Sadly, this is one of those times. When I read the same paragraph over and over again, it means that it is time for me to put the book down.

I will try again at a later date.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the copy of this book.

"What You Can See From Here" by Mariana Leky is a melancholy tale of the persons in a small village. Takes place in Germany, mixed with quirky characters, and loyal bonds, this novel was gently developed and sweet. Thank you NetGalley, author and publisher for the early reader edition for review. All opinions are my own.

3 stars *may change

Drum-roll, please. Bam-bada-bam bada-baba-ba-ba-ba (Does that sound like a drumroll? No? Ok)

Well, I finished this a week before its release date. Good for me. Always on top of my work, aren't I?

I read the book description for this, which was a mistake because it covered virtually a minuscule part of the book. I don't often read book descriptions because of how misleading they are, and I think this is an instance of that. This book takes place over three different parts of our protagonist's life, with the okapi taking only a third of it, while the description made it seem as if it would be the whole story.

...It might as well have been, though, since the okapi narrative was the most entertaining. I would have rated it higher if it really had been the whole story. The rest of the book went by as a bit of a blur to me. Not exactly what I wanted after a promising start.

I don't know...This seems to be something someone might enjoy if they like nonsense and small towns and family drama.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing an advanced reader's copy.

4 clever stars
Charming, weirdly amusing, magical, small village and family relationships, coming of age and aging, Buddhism, wisdom, folklore
Mariana Leky weaves together all these things in a (from the publisher) “charmer—a moving novel of grief, first love, reluctant love, late love, and finding one's place in the world, even if that place is right where you started.”

The good writing brings in the senses. The small village with nearby woods is beautiful. “We live in a glorious symphony of green, blue, and gold.” “He smelled like an unaired truth.” “Little by little my father’s facial features had started to shift like a landmass slowly sliding toward his father’s face.” Some events are tragic, but many are what I call ‘tendersweet.’ I am very glad I read this novel off the beaten path.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Thanks to Netgalley for this ARC: A deceptively sweet and easy read, and the initial reference to the opaki isn't explained until later, but as the story reveals more and more depth, it becomes an engrossing read. As the revelations come later into the story and impact the earlier portions of the book, it would be interesting to re-read. A story of a girl whose grandmother's dreams portent death and the community that is impacted by those depths. The interrelatedness and kindness of the community, their acceptance of all, without judgement was a joy to read.

A lyrical tale, translated from the German, that misses key details in translation causing the beginning to be needlessly bumpy. What do I mean? I didn’t know who the narrator was, her age, her relationship to the other characters or even what the precipitating animal was that started the entire plot. That’s a lot and I read German, the original language. I’ve never heard of an okapi, I’m not sure how many American readers will have. It’s not terrible but intrusive and would not have required much to have explained it for the translation. I never understood very well who the narrator was or her relationship to the fellow she goes to school with every day. So I was shocked at the end of the book to learn his true relationship to her. All that aside, this is a book filled with magical realism, a village of wonderful, often unnamed characters, and lyrical pastoral scenes. It is beautifully written if oddly translated. I received my copy from the publisher through NetGalley.

This story was challenging to get into at first. Part I dragged and it was challenging at times to get a grasp of all the characters.

However, as the book continues it encompasses the reality of grief and love and how life is full of both.

Full of unique, quirky characters, this story may not be for everyone but will definitely appeal to those who enjoy character-driven novels.

Thank you to NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

Heartbreaking and heartwarming, it moved me to tears and it made me smile.
I think there's a strong element of magic realism and there''s a great depiction of small town life, grief and living.
Great characters and storytelling.
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to read an ARC of What You Can See from Here!

What You Can See from Here is a character-driven story set in a small German village, and it centers on Luisa, who we meet at several different points in her life. Her family members and other people who live in the village have an active role in the story as well, and we get to know them and their relationships too. The plot itself is rather thin, but overall, I think that works for this kind of story, since it is more about the characters and the setting than about any particularly exciting plot points. I enjoyed getting to know these characters and learning more about this particular setting, and I thought the world-building was done very well. I don't have a lot of experience with German literature, but this book definitely made me feel connected to the village and its people. The storytelling was a bit choppy at points, and I couldn't quite tell if this was done intentionally. Overall, I enjoyed reading this book, but I'm still not totally sure what it was trying to say. It's definitely quirky and a bit strange, so I don't think it's for everyone, but if you like quiet, character-driven stories with some odd humor, definitely check this one out.

The year was 1983. Luisa grew up in a village in Westerwald in West Germany. The village was full of quirky characters. Mariana Leky opens the story with a dream from Selma, Luisa’s grandmother, whose dream of okapi was believed to cause one of the villagers to die. Then we are introduced to Peter, Luisa’s father who has a high interest in psychoanalysis that he ended up buying a dog called Alaska to externalize his “pain”. Meet Martin, who has learned to lift anything weighs more than himself; Palm, Martin’s father who was an alcoholic hunter; the optician, who was secretly in love with Selma but never has any guts to tell her so; Elsbeth, who always believed in superstitions; sad Marlies, whose aunt hanged herself at the age of ninety-two; and Luisa’s own mother, Astrid who struggles to find the courage to end her marriage. This is a story that filled me with uneasiness and many relatable feelings toward each character that I can’t help loving them seeing how this communal village could turn simple stories into collective memories that change each of their attitudes toward life itself.

Translated from the German by Tess Lewis, this is a story that feels simple yet complex at the same time. At first, I thought this might be a story that ridicules superstitious belief in modern life when the author introduces us to the infamous “okapi dream” of Selma that has brought bad omen several times. But upon reading it further, I got mesmerized by the way Luisa and other characters faced some difficult situations in their lives. Luisa, for example, lost her childhood friend Martin who was thrown out of a running train because the door was not closed properly. Then we can see the change of Palm, Martin’s father, from an alcoholic abuser into a devout Christian that cannot help quoting Biblical verses in conversations from time to time. The way each character changes in responding to dynamic situations in their lives is something that I’d like to praise from this book. Other reviews already point out that the story could not simply be summed up using typical synopsis, since it will sound boring, unlike the dynamic experienced by each character that could not be summarized in simple sentences.

Throughout the story, I got reminded of the concept of Heimat. The community in Westerwald simply shows a communal life in which everyone knows everyone else from the way Luisa describes each character in this story. Each of them has its own quirks, that is simply incomparable with city people. Luisa’s father–Peter, for example, is described as a traveller. From the latter two-thirds of the story, it is described that Peter spent his time retiring from his previous job as a doctor to travel around the world even though he returned to Germany every once in a while to check up on his family and his dog, Alaska. He claimed that he could only be himself while on the road, but there’s some continuity that keeps him attached to his homeland where he could be unconditionally accepted despite his quirks as said by Greverus (1979):

“Heimat als Nahwelt, die verständlich und durchschaubar ist, als Rahmen, in dem sich Verhaltenserwartungen stabilisieren, in dem sinnvolles, abschätzbares Handeln möglich ist – Heimat also als Gegensatz zu Fremdheit und Entfremdung, als Bereich der Aneignung, der aktiven Durchdringung, der Verlässlichkeit.

Home functions as the close environment that is understandable and transparent, as a frame, in which behavioural expectations are met, in which reasonable, expectable actions are possible – in contrast to foreignness and alienation, as a sector of appropriation, of active saturation, of reliability.”


It simply sounds impossible to write a satisfying review for a book this good. I am simply at a loss for words. If you feel like escaping from your current life situation, this book will be really enjoyable. The only thing that I find a bit weird about this book is that it is written from the first-person point of view of Luisa, yet the description of each scene is maintained as though it is being told from an all-know third-person perspective. Easily this is one of the best contemporary works in German literature that I have read so far!

I knew pretty quickly that this wasn't my type of book, but I hate a quitter. In our book club we have a rule of 100 pages before DNF-ing a selection (DNF= did not finish). The reviews on Goodreads were quite good and it sounded intriguing so I kept at it a bit longer. This is about an old woman in a village that has a dream that foretold death for someone in their community within the next 24 hours. Everyone freaked out because her premonitions had been right twice before. They all tried to take it in stride and act normal, yet it seemed they were getting their affairs in order just in case they were the afflicted one.

The writing is pretty good, sad at times, and even funny at other times, but the structure of the book seemed odd to me. The people seem believable in a weird kind of way, but I didn't find myself caring much one way or the other. The whole idea of the book just seemed kind of ridiculous, and I lost interest in what was going to happen, so it was a DNF for me, not my type of reading. I do appreciate the opportunity given to me by NetGalley, the publishers and the author to read a pre-release ARC prior to its publication.

"𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡," 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨," 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝. "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦- 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥?" 𝐈 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝.

"𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫," 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐚 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝.

An omen bowls over the villagers in a Western German town in the form of an animal vision. Selma and her okapi dreams foretell death, for it has happened three times that when she has dreamed of the strange animal, death has opened it's eyes and taken from them. They know in the next twenty-four hours, someone will depart. Even if the least superstitious of them, the optician, attempts logic to shrug off this 'loose' connection to death, deep down he knows the reaper is waiting. Her ten year old granddaughter Luisa takes the premonition seriously, confiding in her best friend, future weight lifting champion Martin. Together, the two wonder who in the village will survive.
They are not backwards people who put stock in unfounded fears, and yet suddenly Luisa witnesses they unsettled energy surrounding them all. With the end snapping at their heels collectively, now is the time to 'ward off death', though uncertain whom it has come to call. They have seen first hand a death, after one of her unwanted dreams, and have no intention of being chosen. Maybe if they throw their secrets to the wind, speak their truths, then death can be dodged? Some secrets are full of yearning and burn close to home. Other villagers visit Elsbeth's shop for trinkets to ward off their unwelcome end. Who better than the person who has things to ward off illnesses and deceased souls to help them hide from death? Sad Marlies is too bad tempered to be worried, living at the edge of the village in a cloud of negativity, visiting her is a chore for Martin and Luisa. Old before her time, she wishes death were coming for her. Selma expects Luisa to behave as if it's any other day, you can't stop time, being afraid of her dream will accomplish nothing.

Luisa knows life is full of danger, like Martin's cruel father, Palm. If only her busy mother could focus, listen to her woes instead of burying herself in her flower shop. Who needs to be afraid of dark things waiting to pounce on you when your Martin's own father could snuff his light out? At least Luisa can depend on her grandmother Selma, that her strength will put Palm in his place! She knew him before he soured, the person he once was almost sounds like a fiction. Luisa's own father wants them to 'let more of the world in' and calls her dreams "nonsense", her mother struggles making a decision whether or not to leave him, and everything that is coming will teach Luisa about love and death.

It's a wonderful cast of characters, there is lightness and love but it takes a turn, as life often does, into shocking grief. People come and go, out into 'the creaking world', desperate to escape the village not realizing the pain they cause, the beauty they leave behind but promising to come back. Luckily, Martin is always there to lift Luisa up! Unbalanced floors, drunks, hours watched by the suspicious eyes of villagers, the vastness of love, unbearable pain, regrets, illumination, and the wisdom of Buddhism. This novel encompasses life, how love and death will always invite itself in, welcome or not, and bowl us over. Nothing can be deflected, nor arranged, certainly not matters of the heart or mind. It's the sort of tale that lingers, an unbearable ache. Beautiful and gut wrenching, yes read it!

Publication Date: June 22, 2021

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

I received an ARC of this book. It is the story of an unusual family, their friends and their relationships. It follows a young woman shaped by those relationships as she tries to find her own path. I found it interesting but a little hard to follow.

Really enjoyed this book! It was the first one for me to read by this author and I can't wait to read more! The characters stick with you long after the book is over.

It’s a sad day when I set aside a book and place it in a DNF pile. I’ve read reviews where it says to keep going it gets better. But this book has fell flat for me and doesn’t meet my page 50 rule. I really feel it’s the “lost in translation “ issue. I’m giving this 3 stars because this is a result of a it’s not you but me. Thanks NetGalley for giving me an opportunity to read this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

I think I knew on the first page that this was not a book for me, but I kept reading. After about 10%, I stopped, went to Goodreads to read the reviews and saw everyone seemed to love it. Given that I was so in the minority, I went back and read another couple of chapters before putting it down for good. Definitely not for me.

A woman had a dream that in her experience, foretold death in the next 24 hours for someone. The whole town freaked out. She had been right twice before. People tried to act as normal as possible, but everyone seemed off their norm.

The whole thing seemed dumb to me. Thank you NetGalley for an advance copy in exchange for an honest opinion.

If I had to write a one-word review to describe this book, it would be quirky. This is a translated story that takes place in a small German town. Luisa is just a child when it begins and we get to know her at various stages of her life. Her parents are rather distant, but her grandmother Selma more than makes up for the attention she is missing.
Selma is really the heart of the village. The worst thing that can happen is for her to dream of an okapi, a strange animal that I had never even heard of, thanks to Google for enlightening me. When she has this dream, someone will die and the whole village lives in fear of who it will be. Unfortunately, this time Luisa loses someone she loves. We will come to know many of the residents through this tragedy and Luisa finds three people who will have the most impact on her life: Selma, the Optician, and the Buddhist monk.
This book reminded me of the saying that it takes a village to raise a child. Each character has their own quirks and issues, but ultimately they always take care of each other. The more I read, the more I cared about these fictional characters. Honestly, this wasn't the easiest read because of the structure. I was dropped into people's lives not understanding what was going on. Once I reached the second part though, I wouldn't have stopped reading even if an okapi showed up at my house. If you like a slow burn with some amazing characters, this might well be an enjoyable book for you,