The story of Yiza, if that really is her name, unfolds only over a handful of pages. Yet in this short novel, Michael Köhlmeier paints a picture of the world, from the viewpoint of a desperate six-year-old view, in a direct manner unique to this book.
We’re thrown straight into the deep end of Yiza’s life. When, one day, her father doesn’t come back to her, she suddenly finds herself an orphan, with no understanding of what that means or what dangers she may face. Like Yiza, the reader begins very much as a passenger, fearfully following her as she rides through a confusing new world with no one really at the wheel. Yet, as heart-wrenching as this sounds, Köhlmeier keeps the perspective of the reader firmly framed in an infantile mind. Whilst the reader may be aware of dangers that their protagonist isn’t, thoughts of these are quickly replaced with simpler, child-like notions of seeking companionship and understanding.
When eventually found and placed in a home, Yiza finally has some opportunities to fulfil these desires. She befriends an older boy, who somewhat fills the paternal void left behind by her father’s disappearance. This companionship seems to give her some added sense of purpose, and we seem to think she may be turning a corner. With this new companion and another orphaned boy they escape the orphanage. Living off thieving and luck, they try their hand at sustaining themselves, but are soon undone by the bleak reality of their existence. When in police custody, the reader (though not Yiza), is made aware of the boys’ plans to leave her behind to escape themselves. This is not a malicious decision, however. Rather, it is the harsh reality of decisions made between a rock and a hard place, where the boys know their best chance of survival is without Yiza, whilst she might not fare too badly with the police. Heartbreaking as this may seem, the reader quickly understands the decision, knowing they would do the same. It represents what is to me the central theme of the book: the loss of innocence through despair, desperation and misfortune.
When reading this book, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of the confusion a child must feel in Yiza’s place. The feeling of rootlessness – Yiza doesn’t even know her own name - was a stark reminder of how important it is to remember and cherish your own story. It wasn’t at all what I had expected, telling a story set in a context unlike anything else I’ve ever read. Reading Yiza was a refreshing and unique experience, and something I would certainly recommend to anyone looking to step outside their reading comfort zone.
Review by Camille Boutrolle
This review was written for the ACF London's EXPLORE OUR LIBRARY initiative.
