The White Album is a poetic exploration of the past, a family scrapbook whose pictures trigger a multitude of memories, a folio for biographical variants and – like the Beatles? untitled "white album" – the musical symbol of an era of change. In striking and elegant prose, Kretzen writes of a childhood that makes us look back in wonderment.
After many years, three old friends meet again. As children in Leverkusen they skated on the pond behind rows of terraced houses and crept into the Roxy Cinema opposite the big pharmaceutical plant. Later they played Chekhov's Three Sisters in a school performance and planned their emigration to Moscow. Now Gitti, Hanna and Elschen feel like characters from a fairy tale, waking up from a hundred-year sleep and examining their past through a veil of dreams. Where are we and how on earth did we get there? What else could have become of us? As witnesses to a history of comings and goings, we listen with rapt attention to the collage of their lives, assembled from fragments, from moments of recollection and abandoned childhood hopes – and find our own private histories mirrored.