Old Rendering Plant
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
What falsehoods do we believe as children? And what happens when we realize they are lies—possibly heinous ones? In Old Rendering Plant Wolfgang Hilbig turns his febrile, hypnotic prose to the intersection of identity, language, and history’s darkest chapters, immersing readers in the odors and oozings of a butchery that has for years dumped biological waste into a river. It starts when a young boy becomes obsessed with an empty and decayed coal plant, coming to believe that it is tied to mysterious disappearances throughout the countryside. But as a young man, with the building now turned into an abattoir processing dead animals, he revisits this place and his memories of it, realizing just how much he has missed. Plumbing memory’s mysteries while evoking historic horrors, Hilbig gives us a gothic testament for the silenced and the speechless. With a tone indebted to Poe and a syntax descended from Joyce, this suggestive, menacing tale refracts the lost innocence of youth through the heavy burdens of maturity.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Hilbig evokes a vivid and unsettling atmosphere in his slim but dense novel, the third of his titles to be translated into English by Cole (after The Sleep of the Righteous and I'), a sinuous meditation on a landscape haunted by a horrific past. Set in an unspecified town in the German countryside, the book is narrated by an unnamed middle-aged male, self-described as an "outsider," who has earned, through his peculiar inclinations, the disapproval of peers and family alike. His singular and alienating preoccupation is with the woodsy landscapes surrounding his hometown, which he takes pains to illustrate in meticulous and poetic detail. Through the narrator's senses, the novel creates a vivid and unsettling portrait of the area's factories, ponds, brooks, and vegetation. As a child, the narrator says, he roamed this land freely, exploring its particulars while aware of its reputation for danger. Approaching adulthood, he explains, he took an interest in Germania II, an old plant where "animals were rendered to make the fats contained in soap" and that employs dejected and cast-off men. The plant is a representation of the unnamed yet ubiquitous horror of the town's past; the plant's stench is so nauseating and inescapable it is taken for granted by the citizens as part of their heritage. What this volume lacks in character and plot development, it makes up for in its ability to capture the uncanny mood and feel of a community burdened by history.
