I was sitting on the sofa chatting to two friends about books – those I’ve read and forgotten, and those I have to read and forget; about phrases that would stand the test of time, and stories that had become my own; about pages that were torturously waded through like walking through deep snow in…
2015, The Migrants
From migrant literature to migrant literature/ Von Migrantenliteratur zu Migrantenliteratur
by Lena Gorelik •
For the first novel that I wrote, they loved me – slightly for the novel and slightly for my story. I was twenty-three. I first arrived in Germany when I was eleven and I couldn’t speak a word of this language. Now I wrote a novel about an eleven-year-old girl who arrives in Germany without…