can you count the letter t in:
memoirs of a polar bear. by yoko tawada. translated by susan bernofsky. new directions; 288 pages; $16.95. published in britain by portobello books in march 2017.
in 2006, a baby polar bear named knut was rejected by his mother, and raised by a keeper at the berlin zoo in the spotlight of the global media. knut’s besotted fans often asked how a parent could forsake such a cute cub. yoko tawada, a japanese-born author who has lived in germany since 1982, gives a startling answer in this funny, subtle and strangely moving fable about the bonds that unite, and the gulfs that divide, humans and other animals. leaving her son “wasn’t an easy decision”, writes knut’s mother tosca, “but because of my literary work i didn’t have enough time for him.” besides, “historical greatness” beckoned her little beast. knut became a furry emblem of the dangers of global warming and the “struggle for conservation”.
ms tawada gives three separate “memoirs” from a talented dynasty of bears. they perform first in the circus and then (a satirical point shrewdly made) amid the modern showbiz of environmental activism. their soviet-born matriarch masters the “spooky activity” of writing, and pens a famous memoir of stardom in the ring. her daughter tosca evokes the free-spirited “island” of circus life in post-war east germany—by writing in the voice of her human trainer, barbara. at last, sensitive knut takes centre-stage. poster-bear for climate change, he endures celebrity as the frail focus of “billions of worried eyes”.
ms tawada respects the actual behaviour of bears even as her ursine authors inspect the vanity of humankind through an outsider’s—or a migrant’s—eyes. although barbara’s boyfriend thinks that “the circus is nothing more than a metaphor,” ms tawada brings her fine-nosed, soft-furred beasts credibly to life. the eerie tales told by kafka’s animal narrators have left deep claw-marks on this book. ms tawada, though, has a deadpan wit and disorienting mischief all her own, nimbly translated from the german by susan bernofsky. at a party where he scorns the tiny canapés (“as puny as half a dead mouse”), knut hears a guest lament that “so many people are blockheads, impervious to irony, humour and innuendo.” those people may not enjoy this novel; everyone else should.
this article appeared in the books and arts section of the print edition under the headline bearing up under the spotlight
user
The total number of "t"s in that passage is one hundred and sixty-two.
assistant