"This book is a wild and wonderful ride. Your guide, Rebecca Schuman, is a super-smart and very funny person who writes brilliantly about Germany and Germans (who are not what you think) and being young and insane and life in general andÖ just read it, OK?"
You know that feeling you get watching a pompous jerk whine into his cell as heís booted out of a restaurant? When the elevator doors slide shut just before your sadistic boss can step in beside you? Thereís a word for this mix of malice and joy, and the Germans (of course) invented it. Itís Schadenfreude, deriving pleasure from othersí misfortune, and with Slate columnist Rebecca Schuman, the Teutons have a stern, self-satisfied blast at her expense.
Rebecca is just your average chronically misunderstood 90ís teenager, with a passion for Pearl Jam and Ethan Hawke circa Reality Bites, until two men walk into her high school Civics class: Dylan Gellner, with deep brown eyes and an even deeper soul, and Franz Kafka, hitching a ride in Dylanís backpack. These two men are the axe to the frozen sea that is Rebeccaís spirit, and what flows forth is a passion for all things German (even though, as everyone is quick to remind her, Kafka wasnít German at all). Dreamy Dylan might leave the second he gets accepted to a better college than Rebecca does, but Kafka is forever, and in pursuit of this elusive love she will spend two decades stuttering and stumbling through broken German sentences, trying to win over a people who donít want to be bothered.
At once a snapshot of a young woman finding herself, and a country slowly starting to stitch itself back together after nearly a century of war (both hot and cold), Schadenfreude, A Love Story is an exhilarating, hilarious, and yes, maybe even heartfelt memoir proving that sometimes the truest loves play hard to get.