Amazon.com In Swiss writer Zoë Jenny's haunting debut novel， The Pollen Room， an absent mother poisons her daughter's world， down to its very air. Always on her way out the door， trailing scarves， hair， and discarded blossoms in her wake， Lucy is so distracted， unmaternal， and alluring that it's hard to say whether she makes things worse for the narrator--her daughter， Jo--when she's around or when she's gone. Jo never gives up hope for Lucy， meaning she gets endlessly pummeled. When Lucy takes off permanently with her lover Alois， abandoning her 5-year-old daughter to the reckless care of her father， Jo must spend nights entirely alone in the house while her father drives a delivery truck. For the adolescent girl， reunited with Lucy in Alois's house after his suspicious death， it is another deeper， fresher hell to watch her mother--at the first sign of recovered energy--begin to plan her escape into the arms of another new man. Jo， to the contrary， can't flee anywhere. She barely gets out of bed. Her landscape， though， is in constant motion--particularly when she's outdoors， or with Lucy. "It would be pretty creepy up here alone at night， don't you think?" I asked her. She looked over at me as if I'd said something completely irrelevant， and suddenly the ground seemed to buck under my feet as if I were riding on the back of an unbroken beast. The sky threatened to open wide， and I felt the hardness of the earth beneath me. I tried to concentrate on the mole under the left corner of Lucy's mouth， but her face broke up into pieces as she leaned over me， peering into my eyes. Translated from the German by Paris Review editor Elizabeth Gaffney， The Pollen Room charts Jo's suffocating life with an uncommon， unflinching eye. Time passes， and Jo's world simply does not rebuild itself. But readers will find their own worlds enlarged by the sustained lyricism and honesty in Zoë Jenny's writing. --Jean Lenihan --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From Publishers Weekly Abandonment by her mother precipitates a sad and debilitating chain of events for a young girl in this elliptical coming-of-age debut novel published last year to considerable fanfare and sales in Switzerland and Germany. In prose that even in translation is limpid and fresh， Swiss author Jenny begins the first-person narrative as the mother， Lucy， departing her first marriage， leaves kindergarten-age Jo in the care of her father， a publisher of books "no one ever bought." Swiftly， deftly， Jenny captures the loneliness of a young child whose father works at his press all day and drives a delivery truck all night to make ends meet. Fifteen years later， Jo is living with her mother and Alois， an artist. When he dies suddenly， Lucy retreats into his painting studio， gathering flowers from the garden at night and spreading their pollen all over the room. Jo witnesses her mother's mental breakdown and crashes through the studio windows to save her. Lucy refuses her help， and finally runs off with no explanation to an island in the Indian Ocean. Jo is left on her own to find herself， and to find someone to love her. Though lyrical， Jenny's elusively impressionistic style， without surnames， place names and other details， unmoors the narrative. But the emotional melody about Europe's rudderless children rings true and clear. Jenny is an unmistakable descendant of postwar German authors such as Frisch， Durrenmatt and Bachman; the anomie permeating her novel feels familiar. Rather than the depredations of war and its aftermath， however， Jenny describes the ravages of the late 20th century: drugs and raves; AIDS; neglectful， divorced parents; and ersatz culture. In the world that Jenny's characters inherit， a sacred town is razed to build hotels for religious pilgrims and the organ grinder's music comes not from an organ but a CD. Jenny's indictment is powerful and compelling. Agent， Petra Eggers. Foreign rights sold in U.K， France， Italy， Greece， Korea， Norway and the Netherlands. Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information， Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. See all Editorial Reviews