I read this book in its English translation, and I must congratulate the translator, because the imagery and themes shine through the language differences with quite possibly all of the original intent of Mr. Timm. To suggest that somebody could "invent" curried sausage is nearly as ridiculous a premise as suggesting that somebody could "invent" sex, but I believe that's what the author wants us to see here. The magic of inventing the ridiculous, with a farcical sprinkling of the dangerous, is an elixir that in the end helps the protagonists forget that war is hell.

Timm's novel provides a wonderful romp through the physical and psychological space that is/was newly re-united Berlin. The action takes place at the exact time the Bulgarian artist Christo wrapped the Reichstag building.

Timm's protagonist, a journalist and essayist from Munich, comes to Berlin looking for help on an article on the humble German potato. He is soon hot on the trail of East Germany's leading potato expert, who (unfortunately) is now dead. Our hero traverses the city in search of the deceased scholar's research, largely forgotten and shelved away, like so much of the cultural detritus that is East Germany's cultural and intellectual heritage. The reader will delight in his madcap adventures as the West German discovers how nonsenical, if not absurd, life in eastern Berlin can be.

The novel's central plot may be weak, but it largely serves as a device for enabling the essayist to criss-cross city, experiencing the chaos and fragmentation of post-reunification Berlin. Anyone who has spent time in Berlin should read this novel. It's well worth it. For others, it may be just a bit confusing without knowing something of the city's physical and cultural geography.