Grand Hotel Europa | Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer

After the failure of his relationship, Ilja, a writer, takes up residence in the Grand Hotel Europa. This grand dame used to be a glamorous venue, but her bright sheen has faded and all that’s left is a glint of desperation. Fortunately, the hotel’s permanent residents are a group of interesting characters and Ilja’s conversations with Abdul, the bell-hop, a Greek philosopher and an elusive poet provide ample distraction.

But this isn’t only the story of a fading relationship and a fading hotel, it’s also the story of a fading continent threatening to be destroyed by mass-tourism. According to Pfeijffer the old continent is so dependent on its historic past that there’s no room left for a future. In the hotel’s case its salvation is a new Chinese owner. Mr Wang might be able to save Grand Hotel Europa from ruin, but at what cost? Montebello, the proud and stately hotel manager, experiences the effect of Mr Wang’s changes the most acutely. The antique glass chandelier in the foyer is replaced by one flashing disco lights in various colours. The old painting which graced the wall at the entrance is replaced by an enormous photo of the Eiffel tower and the luxurious Chinese Room is, ironically, turned into a traditional English pub. With these changes Mr Wang believes he’ll draw tourists who crave a uniquely European experience.

In a recent Monacle podcast interview Pfeijffer called Europe a living museum, relying solely on tourism as its new economy without considering its sustainability. Venice is a prime example and it is also where Ilja and his art historian girlfriend, Clio’s, relationship came to an end. As a living and functioning city Venice doesn’t exist anymore. All that remains is a rotting skeleton struggling to keep its foundations above water as an artificial tourist attraction. Tourism isn’t necessarily the best solution. A large of percentage of tourism income ends up in the pockets of overseas investors instead of being diverted back into local economy. The same goes for Amsterdam where the Airbnb’s have driven local inhabitants from the city centre, creating an artificial city for tourists and changing its social structure. Ironically, tourists are always in search of an “authentic” experience, yet, as tourism increases it’s becoming progressively more artificial.

In order for Europe to survive it will have to reinvent and redefine itself as a geo-political power. In terms of industry Europe can’t keep up with the East. Additionally, large parts of Europe has ageing populations, particularly Southern Italy. Due to lack of work and opportunities the younger generation seeks a life elsewhere. Businesses are often bought by Chinese businessmen, but how will this impact the social and cultural fabric of traditional European towns and cities?

In contrast to mass-tourism Pjeijffer positions the refugee’s plight. Abdul, the hotel’s bellhop is at first hesitant to tell his story to Ilja. When he eventually agrees, it’s a traumatic and painful one, a past he’s not interested in remembering. While the European tourist’s main goal is to revel in the continent’s history and art, the refugee is only interested in his future. Abdul tells his story through the words of Virgil’s Aeneid, an ancient text about a war refugee. Human beings have always migrated across land and sea, it’s nothing new. Could refugees be the solution to Europe’s dwindling population, their knowledge seen as an asset and their presence not seen as a threat?

As in his previous novel, La Superba, in true auto-fiction style, Pfeijffer blurs the lines between the main character and himself. They share a name, an occupation and both live or lived in Genoa. Unfortunately his character isn’t particularly likeable. He often comes across as a pretentious know-it-all with a bloated ego. Is this intentional and an attempt to poke fun at himself?

Pfeijffer is particularly adept at depicting the world in our modern times with all its challenges and pitfalls while switching between love story, travel journal and social commentary. Questions surrounding European identity, globalisation, mass-tourism and migration are deftly included in the narrative of the main love story of Ilja and Clio without distracting too much. Grand Hotel Europa is an ambitious and expansive novel well worth reading.

Grand Hotel Europa is published by Farrar, Giroux and Strauss and they provided me with a review copy via NetGalley. Afrikaans readers with access to Netwerk24 can also read the review that appeared in the newspapers online.

About the author

Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer is an award-winning Dutch poet and writer. He has more than forty titles to his name, including poetry, novels, short stories, plays, and essays. His novel La Superba (2013) won the Libris Literature Prize, a prestigious prize awarded every five years by the Royal Academy of Belgium. The book was a bestseller and has been published in several countries, including the United States, Germany and Italy. Pjeijffer studied classics at Leiden University, where he earned his PhD in 1996 and worked as a researcher and teacher of Ancient Greek until 2004. In 2008, he moved to the northern Italian port city of Genoa, where he has lived and worked ever since.

About the translator

Michele Hutchison is a literary translator from Dutch and French into English. As a former commissioning editor at various top publishing houses, she has translated more than forty books from Dutch and one from French. She received the Vondel Translation Prize 2019 for Stage Four, her English translation of Sander Kollaard’s Stadium IV. In 2020 The Discomfort of Evening, her translation of Marieke Lucas Rijneveld’s novel was awarded the International Booker Prize.

Hutchison is also co-author of The Happiest Kids in the World: What We Can Learn from Dutch Parents.

Niksen | Annette Lavrijsen

By this time of the year we are at the end of our tether after a long year’s work. Add a world-wide pandemic and most of us would embrace the Dutch concept of niksen with open arms. And the beauty of it is that practising niksen takes zero effort – in fact, that’s the whole point – to idle in a low gear, reserve your energy and recharge.

Easier said than done. In our age of always being available thanks to technology, combined with the perception that business equates productivity, the almost unheard of practice of doing nothing will most certainly be frowned upon. Unless, of course, you ignore your inner voice, your guilty conscience, your persistent friends and judgemental family.

Annette Lavrijsen dares you to do exactly that in this quirky, simple and beautifully illustrated book. With simple tips and ideas Niksen carefully nudges you towards a happier, more fulfilled life where you allow yourself the time to reset your brain and accept that sometimes it’s OK to just stare into the horizon, doing absolutely nothing.

Niksen is about the enjoyment of life’s little pauses.”

But isn’t that just being lazy? No, being lazy means you’re inaction isn’t benefitting your physical and mental health. Imagine lying on a patch of soft grass, watching the clouds go by for an hour, looking at their shapes. Will you feel rested and relaxed after that hour? Of course.

These small pockets of doing nothing are essential to our well-being – especially in the frenetic age we are living in where we are always on the verge of burn-out. What if instead of pushing yourself to the limit you take few minutes every day just to switch off and recharge?

Research has proven that practising the art of doing nothing has plenty of benefits, such as more energy; better health; a happier family life; a healthy brain; better sleep and greater efficiency. Considering the Dutch are continuously ranked the happiest nation in the world, maybe they have a point? So go on, embrace your inner-sloth.

If you don’t know how to start doing nothing, this wise, little book is a splendid place to start.

Niksen is published by Quarto Publishing who also kindly provided me with a review copy via NetGalley.