German in the UK

Translated by Katy Derbyshire
Andersen Press

Learning to Scream is no ordinary Young Adults' novel. There are no vampires, no angels, and not a magic wand in sight. The heroine may wish that a magician could whisk her away from the horrors of her daily life, but in Hanika's novel the magic comes not from supernatural forces but from a moving and gripping story beautifully told.

This is not to say that Learning to Scream is an easy read. It is a tale of thirteen-year-old Malvina coming to terms with years of sexual abuse, but the heroine's perspective means that it never dips into gratuitous detail or sensation. Rather, the story is about growing up, about the strength that can be drawn from a true 'best friend', and about the discovery that boys aren't always Enemy Number One but can be rather nice, really...

The story is told by Malvina, and this focus on her voice brings the intense experiences vividly to life. Malvina's perspective also means that the narrative reflects her trauma: so the back-story of her childhood emerges piece by piece, as she struggles to unearth repressed memories. The reader is kept at Malvina's level of understanding and feeling and consequently the full horror of her life and the immense force of will that it takes to confront it are only revealed gradually to the reader.

The dominant image of Malvina's trauma is the photo album. When she attempts to recall her childhood, she is just confronted with individual snapshots sitting on the kitchen floor with her gran, tea and biscuits in the living room with her grandparents... but when she tries to turn the pages of that album and fill the gaps in her story, she finds only blanks: 'blind spots. You can still make the odd thing out, half-images, torn pictures, but no proper memories'. The novel, then, is the story of Malvina's attempt to fill in those pages, which she only achieves with the help of those that support her: best friend Lizzy and her hippy mum; Mrs Bitschek (granddad's Polish neighbour with masses of children and a fat tom-cat); and most of all 'Screwy', the boy from the estate nearby whose nose she once bloodied but who becomes, during the novel, more than a friend.

The novel slips between two time-frames: the present of the Easter holidays, and last summer holidays, when Lizzy and Malvina have to defend the abandoned villa, their own private den, from Screwy and his cronies. As such, the novel traces the developing relationships as the children become more self-assured, more aware of themselves and of what they should expect from life. A scene towards the end of the novel is one of the most powerful in this respect when Malvina finally tells Screwy her name and its meaning:

'"Malvina, the custodian of rights." That's the true meaning of my name. I'm the keeper of justice, and, as I say the words looking into Screwy's face, I realise for the first time what it really means. What it really means to be a custodian of rights. It means I have to take care of my rights, my right to live, the right to defend myself, the right to talk. I have to protect myself.'

Malvina names herself and in doing so begins to emerge from her trauma and to become the subject, rather than the object, of her own fate. This and other passages as the novel draws to its close are almost unbearably moving, but the story doesn't tug gratuitously at your heart strings; it is a fascinating portrayal of childhood trauma as well as a compelling and ultimately uplifting tale. Hanika's original captures brilliantly the voice of the thirteen year old and paints her view of the world with a clear-sighted poetry. But what is really special about this new version is Katy Derbyshire's supreme translation, which brings the original into a faultless and utterly convincing English idiom and which sparkles with energy, creativity and care. Learning to Scream is easily one of the best translations I've read this year, and makes me even more impatient for Derbyshire's version of this year's German literary sensation, Helene Hegemann's Axolotl Roadkill, due on our shelves in April 2011.