The Wall by Marlen Haushofer | Book Review

“I’d spent most of my life struggling with daily human concerns. (…) Since my childhood I had forgotten how to see things with my own eyes (…); loneliness led me, in moments free of memory and consciousness, to see the brilliance of life again.  (…) I don’t know whether I will be able to bear living with reality alone. (…) I’m still a human being who thinks and feels. (…) That’s why I am sitting here writing down everything that’s happened (…). Writing is all that matters, and as there are no other conversations left, I have to keep the endless conversation with myself alive.”

Published in 1963, The Wall by the Austrian writer Marlen Haushofer (born in 1920) is an absorbing, contemplative, nuanced, and compelling dystopian novel. It focuses on the meaning of freedom, solitude, the written word, one’s connection to the natural world and animals, memory, the power of nature, survival, the value of menial work, the human compulsion to understand the world, the position of women in society and their freedom to live according to their own norms outside widely accepted social structures, and women experiencing solitude without judgment.

There is a peaceful quality to this novel, defined by the spareness of its narrative and a sense of occhiolism. The writing feels very modern, with unemotional descriptions of everyday menial tasks.

Reading The Wall, we must remember that the novel was written during the Cold War, and there are shadows of that period within the text pointing to the concerns of the time, though they are never explicitly developed:

“At the time everyone was talking about nuclear wars and their consequences.”

Despite this, the narrative has a strong sense of universality.

It is worth mentioning a few words about Haushofer herself. She was a stay-at-home housewife who disliked public engagements and suffered from frequent bouts of depression, as well as numerous health issues throughout her life. From various accounts, one gets the impression that she was not a fulfilled person. Writing seemed to her an arduous and straining task. She often wrote during her free time when she was not caring for her children and household. She did not participate in literary events in Vienna. Haushofer died at the age of 49 in 1969, and her popularity did not last long after her death. Most of her neighbors were reportedly unaware that she had been a respected writer.

The Wall invites symbolic interpretation, in some ways, it is easier to say what the novel is not rather than what it is.

It tells the story of an unnamed woman in her forties who finds herself cut off from the rest of the world by the sudden appearance of a wall made of unknown material that separates a forested valley from everything beyond it. This occurs during her visit to her cousin Luise and Luise’s husband Hugo at their hunting lodge in the Austrian Alps. She cannot explain the wall’s appearance and does not know whether only the valley or the entire country has been affected.

Thanks to Hugo, she has provisions that sustain her for some time and a lifetime’s supply of wood. She also has their dog, Lynx, who becomes an integral part of her new life, along with two cats and a cow. They become her family. At the time the wall appears, she has been widowed for two years, and her two daughters are nearly grown.

The wall forces her to accept her new reality immediately, allowing her to move away from known social structures. It is not only a physical barrier but also a psychological frontier. It effectively erases her previous life. Once it appears, she builds a home with her animals; her days become governed by their care, the seasons, and the harvest. She no longer has to rush anywhere.

“We were both [Lynx, the dog] afraid, trying to give each other courage. (…) I knew I had to survive it, and that I had no means of escape. (…) It wasn’t the first day of my life that I had had to survive like this.”

When we meet her, she has been trapped for over two years. She decides to write a report, as writing is the only thing still connecting her to shared humanity. It allows her to keep an endless conversation with herself, since there is no one else to speak with. Writing also offers the possibility that someone might one day read her account.

Looking back over those two years, during which she has constantly reflected on who she was before the wall, she no longer recognizes that former self.

“I am not writing for the sheer joy of writing; so many things have happened to me that I must write if I am not to lose my reason. (…) I am quite alone, I must try to survive the long, dark winter months. I don’t expect these notebooks will ever be found. (…) I shall write until darkness falls, and this new, unfamiliar work should make my mind tired, empty and drowsy.”

“It was some comfort to me that the books must still exist (…). If I ever get out of here I shall lovingly and longingly caress every book I find….”

In her report, she shares thoughts on the daily tasks necessary for survival, detailed but never overwhelming descriptions. She passes through periods of depression and illness and struggles with the absence of companionship, attempting to build emotional resistance to loneliness. The novel includes many reflections on emotional attachment, the loss of purpose after children grow up, and womanhood beyond roles of wife and mother.

The wall becomes both prison and liberation forcing her into a new reality free from social constraints. Over time, she realizes she had not truly been free before.

“External freedom has probably never existed, but neither have I ever known anyone who knew inner freedom.”

The narrator reflects on her former life and finds it deeply unsatisfactory.

“Sometimes I became quite clearly aware of my predicament (…) but I wasn’t capable of breaking out of the stupid way of life. (…) In the forest, I am actually in the right place for me.”

She becomes acutely aware of mortality:

“I know too that I will have to die someday.”

Her perception of time also changes:

“I did not enjoy being a servant of time, artificial human time, dissected by the ticking of clocks…”

Over time, she realizes she prefers solitude.

“If Hugo and Luise had stayed behind (…) there would certainly have been endless friction…”

She reflects on her children, now grown and estranged, and confronts difficult truths about motherhood and honesty.

“The circumstances of my former life had often forced me to lie; but now every occasion and excuse for lies had disappeared.”

During severe anxiety, she even considers suicide:

“It was chiefly thoughts about Lynx (…) and a certain curiosity” that kept her alive.

Routine becomes essential to preserving her sense of humanity. She maintains hygiene and daily habits, fearing she would otherwise cease to feel human.

“This familiar ordinariness was what I needed to live…”

She also gradually loses her sense of identity: no one calls her by name, and her own voice sounds strange after years of silence.

Over time, she recognizes that her initial composure was merely a form of emotional anesthesia.

“I’m afraid that much that I remember will be different from my real experiences.”

Despite hardship, her health improves, and she gains appreciation for manual work and self-sufficiency. Her animals become her emotional anchors and family. After the deaths of some of them, especially Lynx, she experiences profound grief and isolation.

A violent encounter with a random man marks the only moment of human threat during her years of solitude.

“I knew that all the measures I was taking were directed against human beings…”

The Wall is a compelling novel open to many interpretations. For me, it is an allegorical tale about women experiencing solitude without judgment; something that seems possible only when society itself disappears.

Haushofer also offers a stark reflection on existence:

“I pity animals, and I pity people because they’re thrown into this life without being consulted.”

A film adaptation of The Wall was released in 2012, directed by Julian Pölsler and starring Martina Gedeck, which I highly recommend.