Time has its own laws. The longer something lies in the past, the more vividly it comes to mind. This is how the narrator feels about his wondrous childhood and the great tragedy of his father, who died too soon. To save his new life, he must confront his past, the wonders and horrors, the follies and the glorification.

A little boy with goggles and a rain jacket, a marine researcher for an afternoon, waits at the train station for his father. The first altimeter in greasy leather on the ascent to Watzmann. His father outside the Italian restaurant in the market, enjoying apple spritzers and espresso. Images like memorial crosses by the roadside, snapshots of a Bavarian childhood around 2000. But when his father dies in a tragic motorcycle accident, his youth comes to an abrupt end. Johannes begins a new life, falls in love. Yet the images demand more and more space, becoming omnipresent. To save his future, he must confront the past, he must return to his homeland: a town whose residents desperately try to keep every change at bay with their strong beer festivals, Maypoles, and other folklore. What is time, change or return? What is memory, a curse or a blessing? Johannes Laubmeier's debut "Das Marterl" captivates with great narrative power, literary maturity, and poetry.