Eduard Brünhofer, formerly a celebrated author of romance novels, is sitting on the train from Vienna to Munich. Not necessarily with the intention of talking to the early middle-aged woman in the compartment. Certainly not with the intention of pondering his books with her. Especially not with the intention of reflecting on his years of marriage to Gina. But therapist Catrin Meyr, who finds long-term relationships absurd, is relentless. She wants to talk to him about love. In the process, the writer is forced to act.
'What enables an author to write about love?' she asks. 'Your question is smarter than any answer to it,' I reply. 'Thank you. Try it anyway.'
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