For decades, the generations have gathered around the table in the Herrgottswinkel of the grandparents’ house. There is much talk and even more silence. The memories
are incomplete and clouded. The younger ones ask about the old people’s war past and what it was like back then in the Second World War. And the old people remain silent. Mostly. They would rather slurp soup than give information about their grandfather who was never there. This is how the traumas of a family are passed on and the Lord God is hanging above the kitchen bench, looking at the toaster. As always.

Extract translated by David Tushingham

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