One Day a Year

I’m adding this book even though I skimmed the last 300 pages because I can’t stop thinking about it and perhaps it has inspired me to do a similar project. Christa Wolf wrote extensively about her September 27th of each year. This, in addition to a daily journal. But the Sept 27 pieces each year were vastly expanded, trying to give a real sense of the day itself beyond just jotting down the daily details in shorthand like most journal entries. This book is a collection of 40 of those Sept 27 entries, translated from the German. Inspired to read this after this article about Wolf, which raises some of the same pain points I experienced—her writing is best when highly personal and at its most dreary when describing the day-to-day of living as an East German active in the Communist Party. The introduction might have been the best part, wherein she muses, “Is life identical with time in its unavoidable but mysterious passage? While I write this sentence, time passes; simultaneously a tiny piece of my life comes into being — and passes away.”