The okapi lives in the Democratic Republic of Congo, its glossy brown body sloping up from zebra-striped legs. It’s an unlikely presence in western Germany, but that’s not why Selma is unsettled when she sees one, calmly wandering the woods of the Westerwald in her dreams. Selma is scared because every time she dreams an okapi, someone dies.
What You Can See from Here has become a phenomenon since its 2017 publication, selling more than 600,000 copies in Germany alone. This translation reveals a warm and curious book that – despite the odd exotic visitor – has a very local focus, its eyes set on a small community in a nameless village, its drama sprinkled with matter-of-fact magic.
At its heart is Luisa, Selma’s thoughtful granddaughter. Luisa’s mother is wrapped up in her flower shop and an affair with the ice-cream seller, and her father is obsessed with his psychoanalyst. So Luisa relies on others: the devoted Selma, the resourceful optician, and her friend Martin, who dreams of being a weightlifter.
Selma’s vision and its grim aftermath shatter Luisa, but life goes on. She falls for a stranger, gets a job and acquires a stinking, apparently ageless wolfhound. Her father leaves to travel to New Zealand, Iceland and Peru, instructing the stay-at-homes to “let more of the world in”. The world, of course, comes to the village anyway: there are petty thefts and failed businesses, admissions of love and acts of sabotage.
Strangeness is rarely far away. Selma’s sister-in-law Elsbeth is afflicted by gossipy imps, and claims to have cures for toothache, warts and death. Even the more pragmatic characters hear voices and give credence to prophecies. There are dashes of magic realism, as well as a hearty dose of the Brothers Grimm, and Leky’s clear, direct prose gives the everyday and the fantastical equal weight. The result is that mundane events (the guzzling of chips and chocolate liqueurs, an envelope so thin its bearer can read the letter beneath) acquire a patina of myth, while rumours and superstitions feel less like flourishes than truths that have bloomed amid the forests and meadows of the Westerwald.
Some of Leky’s cast make sense of this rich, often cruel world via aphorisms, Buddhism or psychoanalysis; others are simply grumpy. It’s a mix that stops What You Can See from Here from feeling too folksy, despite its quirkiness. Instead, Leky tracks her community with affectionate detachment, as age stiffens backs and blunts hands, and a new generation matures. Unlike Luisa’s flighty father, Leky’s rewarding novel keeps staring at the same spot, and uncovers sorrow, humour and companionship, a clear-eyed tonic in troubled times.
• What You Can See from Here by Mariana Leky, translated by Tess Lewis, is published by Bloomsbury (£8.99). To support the Guardian and the Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
