The Wall, Marlen Haushofer & Leon Boesch Sylvaner

A while ago, almost a long time ago now, I read a novel that I quite loved about a woman living (mostly) alone in the countryside of a distant country: a place that shimmered through seasons and existed because of the narrator’s precise care, which was not care for anyone else particularly, but rather through the care she gave herself. I loved it so muc…