Yiza

September 11, 2017
In Köhlmeier’s flat novel
six-year-old migrant Yiza is abandoned by her uncle in a German city, and she embarks on a confusing, terrifying journey. Coming from an unspecified country, Yiza doesn’t speak German, and after the police find her huddled in a restaurant, they take her to a home for migrant children. Despite very kind treatment on her single day there, she inexplicably follows two older boys who plot a successful escape. As they wander the city and navigate language barriers, the teenaged leader, Shamhan, promises to take Yiza and Arian to a well-stocked, warm, and safe home. The trio soon discover they are unprepared for life on their own. Each subsequent plan of theirs offers only temporary relief, and their desperation reaches a crescendo when Yiza falls ill, a real crisis for the homeless, clueless children. While this could be an opportunity to think through the trauma of migration, neglect, and poverty on children, the rapid-fire events and Yiza’s unflappable, blank responses to everything blunt the narrative’s impact. The tone echoes dark fairy tales of lost children, making even those adults who sincerely want to help appear menacing. Minimal plotting and simple prose belie the harsh realities and horrors in this quick but shallow glimpse into survival at the margins.