Translated by: Ruth Martin
“It was and it was not”: 'Clearing' by Iris Wolff
If you enjoyed reading Claire Keegan’s novel Small Things Like These, then Iris Wolff’s Clearing should move to the top of your TBR.
Both books explore complicated relationships with cultural and national identities during turbulent political times, alongside themes of trauma, masculinity, love, and friendship. Receiving several important German literary awards in its original format and translated by International Booker Prize nominee Ruth Martin, the novel was published in translation in 2026.
Told in reverse chronology from the perspective of Lev, a young man from the Turda region of Romania working in a sawmill, the novel follows him and his best friend Kato backwards through their lives. Not only does Wolff execute this unusual style of narration skilfully, it also makes the reader feel as though they are solving a literary puzzle. The book smoothly moves between interior and exterior, personal and global; a constant backdrop to Lev and Kato’s friendship and budding love are the drastic political changes their home country goes through in the 20th century. Romania’s state of political turmoil, alongside Lev’s German roots, complicate the protagonist’s sense of national identity. As a German, I learned things about Romania I feel like I should have long known, but the book never feels like a history lesson; it invites you into its world and teaches without preaching.
As the title of the novel alludes to, Lev finds himself most at peace surrounded by trees, clearing his mind and healing past wounds; Wolff artfully evokes this restorative atmosphere to the reader. Yet when Kato leaves his village with a German cyclist, Lev is confronted with loneliness, poverty and enforced traditional gender roles. His brothers mistreat his mother in the absence of his father and consider him weak, both for not joining in the abuse and for his disability— a traumatic incident in his childhood left Lev paralysed for over a year, and he continues to experience chronic pain in his legs throughout his life. After long months of indecision, Lev finally becomes determined to change his situation, following in Kato’s footsteps and escaping his home, despite his love for it. Lev’s cycling tour of Romania and eventual journeying to join Kato in Switzerland takes him through the scenery of his country, at times beautiful and at times ravaged, confronting both him and the reader with the aftermath of the war and totalitarian socialist regime.
Throughout the novel, the reader becomes just as fascinated by the enigmatic artist Kato as Lev is, her kindness, raw talent and intensity are part of what gives the novel its depth. I cannot help wondering what the novel would have been like if told from Kato’s perspective, as Lev’s slowness to act and communicate his feelings occasionally becomes frustrating. I was glad to discover that the novel is not an overt romance, leaving Kato and Lev’s future open to the reader’s interpretation, despite their past entwining them so thoroughly. What could seem like lack of a resolution is actually one of the novel’s strengths; like life itself, the story goes on. Like the Romanian idiom Wollf cites in the text: “Sas pe thai nas pe.” (It was and it was not).
Estimated reading time: 3 to 4 minutes