Knotty Plot and Dense Text: Crime, Detection, and Epigraphs in Wolfgang Herrndorf’s Sand OLIVIA ALBIERO Univ ersity of Wa shington Welcomed as «de[r] größte[.], grausigste[.], komischste[.] und klügste[.] Roman der letzten Dekade» (Maar 340), Wolfgang Herrndorf’s 2011 novel Sand mingles the features of detective story and spy thriller in a narrative of crime, amnesia, and mystery. 1 Clashing with Herrndorf’s first bestseller Tschick in form, content, and tone, the knotty plot and dense text of Sand combine in a work of crime fiction that defies any claim of being «too local, too regional, too German.» 2 The novel consists of five individually titled books and is divided into sixty-eight chapters, each of which is introduced by an intertitle and an epigraph. Set in the summer of 1972 in the fictional North African city of Targat, Sand opens on the day of a murderous attack that unsettles a Western hippie commune in the oasis of Tindirma. 3 The unfit police officer Polidorio, a Frenchman of Arabian descent, sets off to reach the crime scene. However, he disappears from the narrative, never to return again - at least not under this name. Indeed, a nameless character, who does not remember who he is or where he came from, suddenly turns up, confused and injured, in the second book. Helen Gliese, an undercover CIA agent hunting for a hazardous «mine,» rescues him in the desert and names him Carl. 4 From this moment on, Carl’s real identity and the mysterious «mine» constitute the two crucial enigmas of the novel. Carl is tormented by the doubt of being a terrible criminal, while his amnesia hinders any coherent memory recollection. The «mine» is likewise wrapped in a mystery: everybody searches for it, nobody knows where it is, and the novel plays with the ambiguity of the word to thicken the mystery. Does the «mine» ultimately stand for a quarry, an explosive weapon, or the lead of a pencil? 5 Due to a series of accidents, Carl becomes the prime suspect of an international intrigue, and both a group of criminals and the CIA start hunting him. After he manages to escape from his underground confinement where the CIA agents have imprisoned him, the «King of Africa,» a drunkard who lives in the desert, kills him. The novel ends as the «mine» is swept away during a cleanup of the city, while the reader is left piecing together all the elements of this story. 6 This summary only partially reveals the intricacy of Sand, in which narrative and textual complexity draw the reader into a labyrinthine story. 7 The 188 Olivia Albiero «perfideste Art» (Maar 337) in which the plot comes together makes this novel particularly enthralling: the intricate plot of Sand forces the reader to continuously reassess the information at her disposal and to reconsider the significance of and the relations among events and characters - with the risk of failing. 8 While this may be true of many works of detective fiction, Sand challenges the rule of fair play of detective novels and engages the reader in a constant search for new details and clues. 9 The use of paratexts which introduce every chapter in the novel further complicates this task and adds another layer of interpretation to this convoluted crime story. In the following analysis, I reflect on how crime, narrative, and paratexts intertwine in Herrndorf’s novel and how the play among these elements complicates the plot on the one hand, and the reader’s work of detection on the other. I argue that while paratexts risk steering the reader’s attention away from crime detection towards textual investigation, that is, towards the attempt to make sense of the intertextual references, they also may provide some guidance through this labyrinthine crime story. My investigation develops in three steps. I first discuss how the novel uses and combines different elements of multiple genres of crime fiction; second, I take into consideration the form and function of paratexts, in particular epigraphs; finally, I reflect on their significance in relation to the processes of narrating, investigating, and interpreting. In other words, I ask: What makes the plot of Sand so knotty and intriguing? How do paratexts affect the narrative development, that is, how do they aid, delay, or complement the narration of the events? And, in which ways do paratexts help orient (or disorient) the reader in her search for the crime explanation? Reviewers and scholars frequently note the use of paratexts, in particular epigraphs, in Sand, but their readings do not primarily focus on the significance of these elements in relation to questions of plot and genres of crime fiction. Sonja Arnold, for example, points to a few epigraphs in a reading that investigates «the errors, accidents, and the logic of the absurd» in the novel (25). Maximilian Burk and Christof Hamann refer to Herodotus’s quotes in their analysis of the topology and topography of the novel to set up their postcolonial reading, and they show how the binary structures associated with North African and Western culture are constructed and deconstructed through the articulation of narrative space, perspective, and voice (332, 346). Magdalena Drywa discusses the relation between Sand and Herrndorf’s online blog and addresses some aspects of the genre contamination (40-41) and the use of epigraphs in Sand (44-45). And yet while she acknowledges that «Sand überbietet und unterläuft einige gängige Muster der Kriminalliteratur, während er in postmoderner Manier diverse Variationen zitiert» (40), Knotty Plot and Dense Text 189 the focus of her reading does not lie on crime fiction. Thus, the form and function of paratexts in relation to the genres of the novel, its crime scheme, and the reader’s activity of detection still remain to be investigated. At its outset, Sand narrates the police investigation of Polidorio and Canisades, who are appointed to clarify the puzzling circumstances of a violent crime. The novel presents all the elements of a traditional detective story: a murder, in which four people are killed under mysterious circumstances; a suspect, Amadou Amadou, whom the police have in custody; and an investigation, which includes interrogations and the testimony of thirty-one eyewitnesses. The description of the murder, committed right at the outset of the novel, however, is omitted. Thus, the misdeed is first mentioned in the story during the investigation, and the reader is ready to be guided through a story of detection and resolution by Polidorio. And yet, this detective storylike opening soon becomes part of a larger, suspenseful, plot-driven thriller, in which action takes over investigation. 10 The plot thickens with multiple quests and mysteries that run parallel to each other and reveal the conspiratorial nature of this story, which, in the first chapters, reads as an unprofessional investigation in an African community. Sociopolitical obstacles suddenly hinder the chase of the culprit of the initial massacre; the hunt for the unidentified «mine» introduces new groups of people into the story; and the enigma of Polidorio/ Carl’s identity becomes more complex, but is nonetheless withheld until the very end of the narrative, through the use of amnesia. By slowly leaving behind the first police investigation, the novel shifts its focus to the thriller-like elements of chase and action, complicated by the mystery, which surrounds events and characters. This opening towards the thriller genre is paralleled by a complication in events. The second book of Sand opens with a new setting, new characters, and an inexplicable situation, all of which suggest a twist in the plot and a new beginning. «Der Dicke,» «der Kleine,» «der Unscheinbare,» and «der Vierte» (89) are having an animated discussion in a barn, while the nameless character is slowly regaining consciousness in the attic of the same building, feeling completely disoriented - and the reader with him. In the course of the book, the detective Polidorio, now a nameless amnesiac soon to be named Carl, turns into both the victim and the suspected criminal, causing a conflation of detective, victim, and villain, the three key figures of traditional detective novels. At this point, the reader still does not have all the information to understand that Carl is in reality Polidorio, but this becomes clearer by the end of the novel, when flashbacks and little details work together to reveal the correspondences between the two characters. Later, Polidorio’s colleague, Canisades, dies at the hands of the initial suspect, who has es- 190 Olivia Albiero caped and is wandering undisturbed in the desert. Ultimately, the massacre in the commune moves to the background and leaves room for the international chase for the mysterious «mine,» which everybody wants but nobody seems to find. Other violent deeds follow the opening massacre and build up the tension until the tragic events of the last chapters occur, precipitating the action into a new spiral of deaths. New figures enter the story and complicate the character constellation typical of the detective novel: the CIA agents, the Swedish spy Lundgren who accidentally passes the «mine» on to Polidorio before being killed, and the master criminal and his henchmen. But what makes this group of figures even more complex is the play with identities and roles that characterizes Sand. The whole novel thematizes role-playing, false identities, and the search for a forgotten past. Several characters take up identities and roles at different stages in the plot. Helen, for example, passes herself off as a cosmetic agent; Lundgren also uses the name Herrlichkoffer; Dr. Cockcroft plays the role of the psychologist; and a mistake in identities causes the escalating action and Polidorio/ Carl’s death. Sand also complicates the figure of the hero typical of thrillers, leaving the reader wondering whether there is one in this narrative. 11 In fact, Sand reads more as a story of accidental victims - victims of delusions and events - rather than as the triumph of a capable hero. While the narration focuses on Polidorio/ Carl, which suggests his central role in the narrative, his lack of dynamism and his final demise question his function as hero of the novel who manages to bring back order, and rather shows how he becomes a tragic figure who succumbs to the events. The boundaries between genres become more fluid also in narrative terms, which is particularly discernible in the recapitulative moment of the novel. With a sort of Brechtian move, the narrator intervenes, taking the reader by surprise. In thrillers, a recapitulative moment is not common since the reader can follow the action. But in Sand, the knotty plot, the multiple narrative threads, and the number of characters seem to require the narrator to intervene and clarify, revealing not only how things went at the time of the events but also after the year 1972, the year of the story. Almost to counter the emotionality caused by the death of the main figure, by using the «wir,» the narrator takes a whole chapter to explain «das weitere Geschehen» - the title of chapter 65 - drawing the reader into his reflections. Once again, the borders between genres are overcome in favor of a work that plays with convention and achieves its effects by adhering to patterns while adding unexpected turns. At the same time, even in this dénouement, the narrator manages to withhold the information about Carl’s identity, never revealing his Knotty Plot and Dense Text 191 real name. What seems at first a gesture to help and guide the reader turns out to be one more detour in the resolution of this crime story. Sand is a novel that challenges the reader on many levels, including the level of paratexts. While the reader is busy piecing together the elements of this story, the rich paratextual apparatus of the novel intervenes to complicate her task. Paratexts in Sand not only highlight the articulated structure of the novel, but also add formal and textual complexity to the already knotty plot. The attentive reader is invited to both understand the text that contains the story and to read the paratexts, which constitute a second textual framework rich in intertextual innuendos and cross-references. While paratexts are not completely foreign to the genre of crime fiction (recent examples include Thomas Pynchon’s and Stieg Larsson’s use of epigraphs in their novels), they are mainly used in historical crime stories, in which «writers use epigraphs and/ or footnotes or offer forewords, afterwords, glossaries and appendices which enhance, explain or simply demonstrate the historical accuracy of the backgrounds they have selected for their narratives» (Worthington 132-33). In a similar pursuit of accuracy, Golden Age detective novelists made use of paratexts «to indicate extratextual authority for their clues in their novels, even though detective novels are not generally known for using paratexts» (Effron 200). With their reference to an external authority, paratexts counterbalance the uncertainty that detective fiction usually builds and maintains as part of the genre features. In the title of his volume dedicated to paratexts, Gérard Genette labels paratexts «Thresholds of Interpretation,» hinting at their role as mediators between the processes of writing and reading. In his discussion of the term, Genette provides the following definition of the paratext: [A] zone between text and off-text, a zone not only of transition but also of transaction: a privileged place of a pragmatics and a strategy, of an influence on the public, an influence that - whether well or poorly understood and achieved - is at the service of a better reception for the text and a more pertinent reading of it (more pertinent, of course, in the eyes of the author and his allies). (2) Due to the mediation of paratexts, the reader interacts with the author in the process of reading and interpreting. According to Genette, paratexts include «a heterogeneous group of practices and discourses of all kinds» (2), ranging from the publisher’s peritext to prefaces, epigraphs, and notes. In the case of Sand, this work of mediation happens at different stages and is not limited to the novel title, book titles, and chapter intertitles - which my analysis will discuss first - but also includes the rich system of epigraphs that frame the novel. Titles have the function of naming and labeling the novel and represent the reader’s first introduction to the story. Due to their position, «regularly 192 Olivia Albiero at the head of the section» (Genette 149) and just below the title, epigraphs constitute the next threshold between the title and the text of the chapter. They function as a place where layers of meaning and interpretation are constructed and negotiated. Epigraphs like levers - «Brechstange[n]» is the word Herrndorf uses to label them - help transition into the narration. 12 At the same time, the choice of the word «Brechstange» suggests the «violence» of these paratextual elements, which intervene to complicate and modify the main text. In Sand, epigraphs arrest, to some extent, the flow of the text and the speed the plot-driven thriller demands from the reader. When the reader encounters the epigraph on the page, her investigation and interpretation of the main text comes to a pause. The space between the end of the chapter and the new chapter number and title already creates a separation between the two, but the epigraph creates a further threshold, which, on the one hand, separates the previous chapter from the next, and, on the other, facilitates the movement into the new section. Yet, the interpretation of the epigraph and its relation to the text can become a challenge for the reader, «whose hermeneutic capacity is often put to the test,» as Genette notes (158). 13 Of course, the meaning the epigraphs convey and the function they carry out depend on the ability of the reader to understand and make sense of them, and, at least in part, on her familiarity with the quoted text. If the reader knows the context of the quoted text, it may be easier for her to interpret the author’s decision to insert the epigraph at that specific point in the story and, consequently, to read it in connection to the events. In an entry published on the «books blog» of The Guardian, Toby Lichtig reflects specifically on the function of epigraphs and sees them «as a lens - or a sucker punch. […] Playful or authoritative, omnipotent or throwaway, it acts as a kind of shadowy third figure, somewhere between the author and the audience» (n. pag.). If one reads epigraphs in Sand as a lens, what kind of view do they enable? And, if paratexts invite a dialogue not only with the reader but also with the text, what kind of commentary do they incite? Most of the information about the paratexts in Sand is contained in Arbeit und Struktur, Herrndorf’s blog, which was also published as a book. In his autobiographical blog, Herrndorf reflects on some of his paratextual choices, in particular the title of the novel. He includes a list of more than sixty titles that he considered at different stages, ranging from «Nüchterne, Supermarktkassenbestseller, Hochkultur, Parodien, Seventies, mit Gewalt und Too much» (185). The title «Sand» strikes one as a rather unspectacular choice compared to some of the discarded options, such as «Geheimsache Sand,» «Das wüste Denken,» and «Todestango im Treibsand» (185-87). At the same time, it renounces the kitschiness and sensationalism of some other Knotty Plot and Dense Text 193 options. As a title, «Sand» discloses neither the genre nor its topic. Albeit in very general terms, it hints at what could be the location or even the protagonist of the novel, preserving the mystery of what is to come. Considered in the light of its plotting, «Sand» may even be read as an allusion to the structure of the novel, in which every figure and event constitute one of the grains of this composite desert story. All the grains come together in what reads as a novel with a strong closure. Actions come to a halt and mysteries are, at least in part, explained. The title is only the first of a series of paratexts that complicates the novel, in which book titles and chapter intertitles regularly introduce the events. In his review «Tod in der Wüste: Zu Wolfgang Herrndorfs Roman Sand,» Peter Koch points out that the titles of the five books do not show any stringent logic and fail to clearly demarcate the boundaries between the books. In opposition to Koch’s reading, I argue that the book titles provide some spatiotemporal orientation to the reader, albeit in vague terms. In particular, the first four titles refer to the different spaces that play an important role in the story, «Das Meer,» «Die Wüste,» «Die Berge,» and «Die Oase,» even if no geographical specification is added to these general topographic denominations. Each of these four settings constitutes a part of the spatial frame for the narration: characters land in Targat via the sea and spend the rest of the narrated time moving through the desert, its mountains, and oasis. «Die Nacht,» the title of the last book, seems to build a contrast to the other titles. However, it can be linked back to them if one reads night metonymically, to signify the darkness of the underground tunnel where the amnesiac character is trapped. At the same time, this last title carries narrative significance in anticipating the «dark» conclusion of the novel, which closes with a new series of deaths. Sixty-eight intertitles frame the chapters within the five books. The titles are collected in the table of contents at the end of the novel, which provides an overview of book and chapter titles. By scrolling the list, the heterogeneity of the intertitles is immediately conspicuous. The intertitles are mostly nominal, consist of few words, and the majority are written in German, while a small portion is in English or French. Only a few titles make explicit reference to the crime events and the spy-like nature of the novel. One function they share is to follow the thematic development of the plot and highlight the significance of some details that may not be immediately grasped when the title is first read. Chapter intertitles carry the names of characters (e.g., «Lundgren,» «Spasski und Moleskine,» «Hakim von den Bergen»), places (e.g., «Targat am Meer,» «Das Zentralkommissariat,» «Die Madrasa des Salzviertels»), or themes (e.g., «Die Zentrifuge,» «Dissoziation,» «Ein 194 Olivia Albiero wenig Stochastik») that play a role in the novel. At the same time, these intertitles give a sense of the high-speed pace of the story, emphasized by the rapid succession of the sixty-eight chapters within the books. A group of chapter titles does more than simply emphasize plot elements, highlighting also the tragicomic undertone that distinguishes the novel. «Shakespeare,» for example, is the title of a chapter that describes Helen’s painful theatrical experience at Princeton. The distress of hearing her recorded voice combines with the disgust of seeing herself performing on the stage (34-36). This traumatic memory haunts the character until the end of the novel, when she hears the echo of her voice in the underground cave, and, instead of liberating Carl, she can only think of how much that sound used to repulse her (448). Later in the novel, «Die Banane» is the title of a chapter in which Carl proves his naivety. The banana refers to the shape of the gun case, which Carl finds among Helen’s things. Instead of seeing any danger in that, he refuses to believe she may carry a gun with her and the chapter ends with Helen pointing a banana at Carl (223), anticipating the threats he will receive later in the novel. The comic tone of this title is highlighted also by its position in the novel, which follows the encounter between Carl and Dr. Cockcroft, the charlatan psychiatrist and later CIA agent, who is one of the most comic characters in the novel. Dr. Cockcroft’s extravagant diagnoses, his play with words, and the theatricality of his interaction with Carl provide all the ingredients for a good laugh. Each chapter is further introduced by an epigraph, which frames and prepares the events or comments on the narrative. 14 Herrndorf justifies his choice to use epigraphs in Arbeit und Struktur through his fascination with Stendahl’s work: «[…] seit ich zum ersten Mal Rot und Schwarz gelesen hab, war das immer mein Traum, auch mal so was zu machen» (208). However, the use of paratexts extends its function beyond the aesthetic level. Indeed, the result of this artistic whim is a collection of epigraphs, which Maar describes as «eine geniale Sammlung für sich» (338). But, why are these epigraphs so peculiar that they are labeled «genial» and deserve so much attention in this enthralling work of crime fiction? Multiplicity, in terms of form, type, and language, characterizes the epigraphs, which Herrndorf researched meticulously. 15 All epigraphs are quotes that bring a polyphony of voices into the novel and establish a dialogue with various sources, authors, and disciplines. For every quote, Herrndorf provides the author’s name, or the title of the work, and sometimes both pieces of information, allowing the reader to trace the quotations back to their sources. The epigraphs range from literary quotations (e.g., Conrad, Stendhal, Salinger), to excerpts taken from physics, psychology, coaching, Knotty Plot and Dense Text 195 popular culture, cartoons (Dagobert Duck), and movies (e.g., Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! ; Enter the Dragon; Notorious). They also belong to different genres: some of them are taken from speeches, others from novels, movies, and other kinds of texts. As a consequence, the epigraphs in Sand expand and transgress both textual and media boundaries, realizing that movement of «Expansion und Transgression» discussed in Sabine Mainberger’s study on paratexts (126). This transgression becomes even more obvious when the author quotes the epigraphs in different languages, ranging from German and English to French. Not surprisingly, a significant number of quotations belongs to theoretical and literary works of crime fiction. 16 Through these references, the novel enters a dialogue with works that belong to or address a similar genre, thus making a self-referential move. A case in point is the epigraph at the beginning of chapter 7, which quotes the Ten Commandment List for Detective Novelists by Ronald Knox: «No Chinaman must figure in the story» (42). The use of the Chinaman in detective fiction, which Ronald Knox considers a cliché, is referenced here at the beginning of a chapter in which a «foreign» character enters the novel. However, it is not a Chinaman, but rather a Scandinavian spy, as his name Lundgren reveals. The identity of this man remains dubious as he tells some people that he is Herrlichkoffer and others Lundgren. Even though his role remains concealed until much later in the narrative, it is nonetheless interesting that a quote about detective fiction is used in this chapter, in which an important character for the development of the plot is introduced. The self-referential gesture contained in the epigraph highlights the significance of the chapter in the context of the overall story. Expanding on the self-referentiality of Sand, a quote by Marek Hahn offers a comic and powerful commentary on the work: «‹Anspielungen, in dem Buch sind Anspielungen›, dachte ich, ‹ich will sofort mein Geld zurück›» (258). This quote, which received particular attention in articles and reviews, functions as a metacommentary on the narrative and is authored by a friend of Herrndorf, who is also mentioned in the acknowledgements at the end of the novel. By mixing historical figures, fictional characters, and real-life acquaintances, the novel merges fictional world and reality through the mediation of paratexts. Separate from the context in which it was uttered, this quote can only be read as a reference to the many allusions that form Sand, which constantly plays with cross-references both on the level of diegesis and intertextual references through the epigraphs. Every chapter contains one epigraphic allusion, which in turn may create connections to other sections of the novel. Peter Koch reflects on the structure of the novel in a subsection of his review which he entitles «Chaos und Struktur.» Here, 196 Olivia Albiero he comments on Herrndorf’s use of quotes and their effect on his own - and in general on the reader’s - understanding of the novel: «Die Anspielungen erweitern dabei permanent den Horizont, führen aber teilweise auch in die Irre und laufen dadurch Risiko, den Leser abzuschrecken: soll hier etwa mein Bildungsfundus getestet werden? Eins der Zitate (über Buch 38) zeigt deutlich, wie bewusst Herrndorf damit spielt» (n. pag.). Epigraphs expand the horizon of the plot and, at the same time, seem to test the reader’s ability to make sense of these quotations, which are incredibly diverse. In her study of Herrndorf’s work, Magdalena Drywa also points out the playful nature of some quotations: «Da Marek Hahn in einer Reihe mit Herodot, Nabokov aber auch Luke Skywalker als Zitatquelle genannt wird, zeigt sich der spielerische Effekt dieser Motti, die zumeist nachprüfbar oder sogar überaus bekannt sind, umso deutlicher» (44). What Drywa calls «der spielerische Effekt» reveals, I contend, the tragicomic tone of this whole work, which alternates moments of violence and torture with lighthearted episodes. And indeed, the epigraphs surprise the reader not only with their variety but also with their eclectic combination: a quote from Dostoyevsky is followed in subsequent chapters by the words of Dagobert Duck and Kafka. As some blog entries suggest, Herrndorf invested time in finding appropriate epigraphs for his «Wüstenroman,» but he mentions nothing about the decisions that guided his allocation of specific epigraphs at the beginning of a certain chapter. Most epigraphs are thematically related to the chapter that they introduce but, in their proleptic nature, they can best be understood after reading the whole chapter. Indeed, what may strike the reader as an arbitrary choice at first reveals its significance in the light of the events in the chapter. This necessary «reconstruction» of the function of the paratexts creates a parallel between the process of investigation on a narrative and textual level. As the characters in Sand continuously go back to previous events and try to make sense of them, so the reader can try to interpret the paratexts that open the chapters. In so doing, the reader’s function as detective becomes doubled: she is asked not only to engage in the solution of the mysteries in Sand, but also to take into consideration its paratexts. A telling example of how paratexts work in Sand is a quotation of Helmholtz’s law, which explains the formation of sand dunes and introduces chapter 12: «Strömen zwei Medien unterschiedlicher Dichte aneinander vorbei, ergibt sich eine wellenförmige Begrenzungsfläche» (73). At first, the scientific language of the epigraph sounds enigmatic and out of place. The previous chapter ends with Polidorio taking a two-day break from work to spend some time with his family. The title of the twelfth chapter, «Chamsin,» Knotty Plot and Dense Text 197 already situates the events in the context of the hot wind coming from the Sahara. But the quotation from Helmholtz’s law is still puzzling for the reader. What are these two media with different densities? Upon reading that Carl is driving through the desert and remains trapped in a sand wind and stuck in newly-formed sand dunes, the reader can draw a thematic connection between epigraph and text. If the reader decides to ignore the quote, she will still be able to follow the events. But, if she tries to make sense of the paratext, the scientific explanation of what is narrated accompanies her reading experience and provides a background to the fictional events of the novel. Such a clean scientific explanation contrasts with the description of how Polidorio’s car is stuck in a sand dune, from which only a sign depicting the number 102, Polidorio’s IQ, emerges (76). This juxtaposition of different language registers gives the events a comic twist. In the case of the previous quotation, the relation to the chapter becomes ultimately clear; in other cases, it may remain obscure. This is the case, for example, in chapter 2, which opens with a disturbing quote by former U.S. president Richard Nixon. Pronounced in 1971 in a conversation with H.R.- Haldeman and John Ehrlichman, the offensive commentary reveals Nixon’s irritation with the introduction of a gay character in the TV show All in the Family: «You know what happened to the Greeks? Homosexuality destroyed them. Sure, Aristotle was a homo, we all know that, so was Socrates. Do you know what happened to the Romans? The last six Roman emperors were fags» (9). While a thematic connection with the chapter may not be at hand here, the quote can be read as a historical and sociopolitical reference to the time period in which the novel and the events take place. From this perspective, which is the only one that might clarify the use of the quotation, the narrative of Sand enters a dialogue with contemporary documents, expanding the context of the events recounted. In this regard, the epigraphs seem to add historical accuracy to the events, in line with the function of paratexts used in crime fiction during the Golden Age mentioned earlier. This is the second epigraph in the novel, which serves to establish a connection to the historical time in which the events are set. 1972 is also the year when the Watergate scandal begins, in which Nixon was involved and for which he was later impeached. Through this quote by Nixon, the novel sets the tone for the events and also creates a connection to several American characters that populate the novel, be it the group of artists that Canisades knows or Helen Gliese and the other CIA agents. A striking feature of the epigraphs in Sand is the repeated use of Herodotus’s Histories at the beginning of each of the five books. With this gesture, the author points to the Greek historian and master storyteller, thus creating 198 Olivia Albiero a very strong allusion to the act of narrating in the novel. 17 Herodotus’s epigraphs mostly show a thematic connection with the chapter they introduce and hint at topics that will play a role throughout the novel. The epigraphs opening the first and last book respectively can serve as examples of how these paratexts also work in other sections of the novel. The opening quote of the first book, for instance, describes the frustration of a «wir» that tries to begin a dialogue with an African «ihr» that never reacts to the inquiries: «Wir schicken jedes Jahr - und scheuen dabei weder Leben noch Geld - ein Schiff nach Afrika, um Antwort auf die Fragen zu finden: Wer seid ihr? Wie lauten eure Gesetze? Welche Sprache sprecht ihr? Sie aber schicken nie ein Schiff zu uns» (7). By articulating the opposition between the Western «we» and the foreign «you,» the epigraph sets the stage for the events. As Burk and Hamann show in their reading of the novel, «Das dichotomische Verhältnis von Eigenem und Fremdem wird bereits im ersten Motto des Romans […] angedeutet» (332). 18 The quote can be read in connection with the African setting of the first chapter, which introduces the temporal and spatial coordinates of the story in Sand. At the same time, it hints at a topic that will run throughout the novel, that is, the contrast between the local people and the foreigners that arrive here, in primis Polidorio, and his difficulty to adapt to the country in which he is now living. The quote that opens the fifth book sets a much more sombre tone and describes how the pastoral tribes used to bury their dead: Ihre Toten begraben die Hirtenvölker wie die Hellenen, außer den Nasamonern; diese begraben sie im Sitzen und geben genau acht, wenn er das Leben aushaucht, dass sie ihn aufrichten und er nicht auf dem Rücken liegend stirbt. Ihre Häuser sind zusammengefügt aus Asphodilstängeln mit Binsen durchflochten, und können sie mit sich umhertragen. Das sind so die Sitten und Gebräuche dieser Völker. (383) This quotation creates a thematic reference to the chair to which Carl is tied in the underground tunnel in the last book, where he is tortured because he cannot provide the information that the CIA expect from him. At the same time, due to its position at the beginning of the fifth book, the epigraph also hints at how the events are going to end. The talk about death and how dead people are usually buried already sets a grave tone for the last book of the narrative. Thus, the choice to talk about death already evokes certain expectations in the mind of the reader. The last chapter of the novel contains a very abrupt, unexpected ending, whose force is highlighted by the use of a section of La Marseillaise as epigraph. The stanza, quoted directly in French, threatens the tyrants and traitors to tremble, and seems to hint that, after Carl’s death, things are not go- Knotty Plot and Dense Text 199 ing to ease. The tone of the stanza encourages battling and fighting, with young people («nos jeunes héros») dying to defeat the tyrants (464). At the same time, this stanza reads as a very dark commentary on the events narrated in the last pages. Not only has Carl died in the previous chapter while the criminals looking for the mine are still at large, but the novel also closes with the death of an innocent child, who gets run over by a bulldozer together with the mine that has become the support for her doll. 19 Once again, the reader is left wondering about the connection between the opening epigraph and the events portrayed in the chapter. And once again, the paratexts reveal how they are not only there to complement the plot, but also to encourage the reader’s work of detection of this very knotty and dense novel. Epigraphs become multiplying clues that connect the narrative and textual levels. At times, the reader suspects that epigraphs just add to the confusion of this crime story, which already contains several puzzling and mysterious elements. Adding to the play with different genres, the game of identity and role-playing, the epigraphs also risk overwhelming and disorienting the reader. And yet, upon further investigation, the paratexts reveal another function as they become elements that can redirect the reader in her investigation. If she decides to pursue and analyze the epigraphs, the author provides enough clues for her to do so, turning the interpretation into a detective game. Further, while the epigraphs are striking due to their multiplicity on many levels, the choice of using an epigraph for each chapter creates a strong sense of form and symmetry throughout the novel. In a book in which narrative and thematic turns become the rule, the reader can count on the fact that each chapter will open with a title and an epigraph. And some of these may even serve as a guide in the reading process. Every title represents a further complication but also a step towards the resolution of this complex crime novel. Epigraphs, likewise, receive a new function in reorienting and redirecting the interpretative efforts of the reader. As Herrndorf notes, every epigraph is a «Brechstange.» While on the one hand it forces itself into the text, on the other it becomes a «lever,» which the reader can use to open new interpretative routes in the attempt to access and grasp the mysteries of this work. Notes 1 Maar’s review of the novel is just one of the many enthusiastic reactions to Herrndorf’s work. In particular, the jury’s verdict for the Leipziger Buchpreis, which Herrndorf received in 2012, highlights his mastery in thickening the plot and leading the reader through narrative detours: «Man folgt diesem Erzähler gerne und in blindem 200 Olivia Albiero Vertrauen in die abstrusesten Situationen. Lässt sich von ihm auf verwirrende, immer aber schillernde Abwege führen. Tappt mit seinem Helden zusammen im Dunkel von dessen Identität und brennt darauf, alle Puzzleteile endlich zusammenzufügen, von denen lange nicht klar ist, ob und wie sie sich zusammenfügen lassen. Was das Vergnügen umso größer macht, wenn sie es letztlich tun.» («Nominierungen und Preisträger 2012»). 2 I am quoting the formulation included in the Call for Papers for the panel in which this paper was originally presented. 3 1972 is the year of the attack at the Summer Olympics in Munich, and this tragic event is likely to resonate in the mind of the reader when she finds out that the murders in Sand take place on 23 August 1972. 4 Helen chooses the name from the brand of Carl’s clothing, «Carl Gross» (166). 5 The mystery around the mine is thickened through the different languages used in the novel - French, German, and possibly English - in which different meanings are attributed to the word «mine.» The meanings of «La mine» (162) and «die Mine» (217- 18) are extensively discussed in the novel. In her reading, Sonja Arnold also points out the linguistic ambivalence that characterizes the «mine.» See in particular 39-44 in the section «Homonyme und Homophone: die Mi(e)ne.» 6 Quotations from Sand are taken from Herrndorf, Sand (2011). Quotations from Arbeit und Struktur, Herrndorf’s blog published posthumously as a book, refer to the book edition: Herrndorf, Arbeit und Struktur (2013). 7 The complexity of the story is confirmed by the reactions of the first proofreaders of Sand. Not only does the genre of the novel confuse the readers - «Was ist denn das nun eigentlich? » (Arbeit und Struktur 252) one of them asks -, but the complexity of the plot also risks to compromise its understanding: «dass die Handlung keiner kapiert. Drei von den fünf Lesern konnten den Amnestiker bisher nicht identifizieren, was etwa so ist, als verriete ein Krimi den Mörder nicht« (256-57). 8 Michael Maar exalts Herrndorf’s plotting mastery as follows: «Wer ein Faible für raffiniert gebaute Plots hat, erlebt hier ein Fest. Hier geht alles auf, und alles rundet sich, wenn auch auf perfideste Art» (337, my emphasis). 9 The rule of fair play «stipulates that the final solution will not look ‹arbitrary,› meaning that it should not be sprung on the reader without any prior clues» (Segal 172). 10 Peter Nusser provides a detailed description of the elements characteristic of detective novels (26-33) and thrillers (52-56). The phase of interrogation is usually replaced in thrillers by the chase (54). 11 In his contribution, Maar uses the term «Held» to talk about Carl/ Polidorio (334). 12 In Arbeit und Struktur, the author describes his epigraphs as follows: «Über jedem Kapitel ein Zitat. Manche Kapitel nur zwei Seiten lang, und dann oben diese Brechstange» (208). 13 Genette further explains the hermeneutic challenge when he defines the epigraph as «a signal (intended as a sign) of culture, a password of intellectuality» (160). The author chooses epigraphs that may be challenging to the reader but contribute to «his [own] consecration. With it, he chooses his peers and thus his place in the pantheon» (160). 14 This indirect comment on the text that specifies and emphasizes its meaning is the «most canonical» function of epigraphs according to Genette (157). 15 The blog entry from 16 March 2010 reads: «Bei Recherche zum Wüstenroman immerhin gefunden: ‹Wenn ein Hase, eine Ziege oder ein anderes Tier sich vor einem Betenden bewegen, bleibt das Gebet gültig. Die Rechtsgelehrten sind sich darüber einig, Knotty Plot and Dense Text 201 dass nur drei Wesen das Gebet ungültig machen: Eine erwachsene Frau, ein schwarzer Hund und ein Esel› (Abd al-Aziz ibn Baz)» (Arbeit und Struktur 27). 16 Examples include Andrew Hunt’s City of Saints, a quotation by Dashiell Hammett and Ronald Knox’s Ten Commandment List for Detective Novelists. The original title of Knox’s rules for crime fiction is The Ten Commandments of Detective Fiction, but Herrndorf refers to it with a different title formulation in his novel. 17 In chapter 65, the narrator calls his story «Chronik der unerfreulichen Ereignisse» (449). The choice of the word «Chronik» seems to reiterate the gesture towards Herodotus. 18 Sonja Arnold explains the significance of Herodotus as the poet «der mit seinen Beschreibungen der Wüste die Tradition des Anderen und Bedrohlichen einleitete» (26). 19 Arnold also points out how the stanza of the Marseillaise quoted in the last chapter captures the final tone of the novel (38). Works Cited Arnold, Sonja. «‹Der Aufbewahrungsort des Falschen› - Fehler und Zufälle in Wolfgang Herrndorfs Roman Sand am Beispiel des Homonyms Mine.» Pandaemonium Germanicum 16.21 (2013): 25-47. Burk, Maximilian, Christof Hamann. «‹There is no conflict›? : Zur Konstruktion und Irritation binärer Strukturen in Wolfgang Herrndorfs Sand.» Postkoloniale Germanistik: Bestandaufnahme, theoretische Perspektiven, Lektüren. Ed. Gabriele Dürbeck and Axel Dunker. Bielefeld: Aisthesis, 2014. 329-54. Drywa, Magdalena. «‹Das Feuilleton wird es lieben› - Ein vorprogrammierter Erfolg? Wolfgang Herrndorfs Sand (2011) und die Interaktion des WWW mit der Literaturdiskussion.» Neuer Ernst in der Literatur? Schreibpraktiken in deutschsprachigen Romanen der Gegenwart. Ed. Kristin Eichhorn. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang, 2014. 33-49. Effron, Malcah. «On the Borders of the Page, on the Borders of Genre: Artificial Paratexts in Golden Age Detective Fiction.» Narrative 18.2 (2010): 199-219. Genette, Gérard. Paratexts: Thresholds of Interpretation. Trans. Jane E. Lewin. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997. Herrndorf, Wolfgang. Arbeit und Struktur. Berlin: Rowohlt, 2013. - Sand. Berlin: Rowohlt, 2011. Koch, Peter. «Tod in der Wüste. Zu Wolfgang Herrndorfs Roman Sand.» www. literaturkritik.de. literaturkritik.de rezensionsforum, 6 June 2012. Web. 22 Mar. 2015. Lichtig, Toby. «Epigraphs: Opening Possibilities.» www.theguardian.com. The Guardian, 30 Mar. 2010. Web. 22 March 2015. Maar, Michael. «‹Er hat’s mir gestanden.› Überlegungen zu Wolfgang Herrndorfs Sand.» Merkur: Deutsche Zeitschrift für Europäisches Denken 755.4 (2012): 333- 40. Mainberger, Sabine. Die Kunst des Aufzählens: Elemente zu einer Poetik des Enumerativen. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003. «Nominierungen und Preisträger 2012.» www.preis-der-leipziger-buchmesse.de. Preis der Leipziger Buchmesse, 2012. Web. 22 Mar. 2015. 202 Olivia Albiero Nusser, Peter. Der Kriminalroman. 2nd ed. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1992. Segal, Eyal. «Closure in Detective Fiction.» Poetics Today 31.2 (2010): 153-215. Worthington, Heather. Key Concepts in Crime Fiction. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.