Even among Fleur Jaeggy's singular and intricate works, The Water
Statues is a shiningly peculiar book. Concerned with loneliness and
wealth's odd emotional poverty, this early novel is in part structured
as a play: the dramatis personae include the various relatives,
friends, and servants of a man named Beeklam, a wealthy recluse who
keeps statues in his villa's flooded basement, where memories shiver in
uncertain light and the waters run off to the sea.
Dedicated to Ingeborg Bachmann and fleshed out with Jaeggy's austere yet
voluptuous style, The Water Statues--with its band of deracinated,
loosely related souls (milling about as often in the distant past as in
the mansion's garden full of intoxicated snails)--delivers like a slap
an indelible picture of the swampiness of family life.