At a mere 161 pages, A Whole Life – shortlisted for the International Booker Prize in 2016 – is a diminutive novel with an unexpectedly large impact. It traces the life of Andreas Egger, a manual worker living in a remote Alpine valley over much of the 20th century. He is a simple man who asks little of the world. Yet from his boyhood as an orphaned farm hand, abused by those who should have cared for him, to his later years, Egger endures an existence marked by both hardship and solitude.
Robert Seethaler’s writing is restrained and resists sentimentality; his pared-back prose gives the plot breathing space to do all the emotional legwork. And within are moments of astonishing beauty. Egger’s proposal to his only love, Marie, has a tenderness that feels almost wordless; when he loses her, the grief is rendered with devastating restraint. Yet he is not defined by these tragedies. Instead, the novel finds meaning in the patterns that shape a life: the changing seasons, the rhythm of work, fleeting instances of love.
When the book reaches its conclusion, Egger is elderly and without regret. ‘He had never felt compelled to believe in God, and he wasn’t afraid of death… But he could look back without regret on the time in between, his life, with a full-throated laugh and utter amazement.’