Ivan Turgenev once invited Gustave Flaubert to visit Baden-Baden, the renowned German spa town celebrated for its casinos, vineyards, and invigorating air. In an 1863 letter, he described the place as home to unparalleled trees and a youthful, vibrant atmosphere that seemed to nourish those who sat beneath its giants.
In stark contrast, Franziska Gänsler’s debut novel 'Eternal Summer' portrays Bad Heim, a fictionalized version of Baden-Baden, transformed by climate collapse into a charred, nearly deserted wasteland. The story unfolds in an unspecified future where relentless wildfires have devastated the region, leaving only a dilapidated five-room hotel standing as a refuge.
Iris Lehmann, the hotel’s owner and sole caretaker, inherited the establishment from her grandfather after her mother passed away young. With no guests for weeks due to an unseasonably hot October that reignited the surrounding dry forests, Iris lives in isolation, accompanied only by her eccentric, aging neighbor Baby, whose sharp wit and unpredictable behavior provide brief moments of levity in the tense narrative.
Despite the encroaching fire and hazardous air quality, Iris maintains a detached routine. She notes, 'Although I could see the fire through the window, the situation in the forest eluded me.' She focuses on tidying her small domain and even sunbathes alone in her grandfather’s Japanese garden while police helicopters warn residents to stay indoors and wear masks.
The arrival of Dorota Ansel, a weary yet elegant woman, accompanied by Ilya, a young girl around four years old, disrupts Iris’s solitude. Neither wears masks, and their shoes are caked with ash, carrying the unmistakable scent of smoke and burnt leaves into the hotel lobby.
Over the following days, the uneasy proximity between Iris and her unexpected guests slowly evolves into a tentative connection. Stranded together amid an apocalyptic backdrop, the strangers form a fragile, makeshift family out of necessity.
However, their budding relationship is far from idyllic. Iris notices unsettling signs — Dorota’s refusal to let her clean their room, a persistent stale odor emanating from behind a cracked door, and Ilya wandering alone in the toxic forest at dawn searching for her mother. When Iris offers Dorota a ride after spotting her pushing Ilya along a desolate highway, Dorota ignores her, pressing on with determined silence. Meanwhile, mysterious calls to the hotel seek a woman and child matching their descriptions.
Gänsler skillfully ratchets up both personal and environmental tension. As the fire draws nearer and the danger from Dorota’s past closes in, a desperate plan to evade pursuit culminates in a harrowing car journey under sweltering heat, ending at a hospital.
The novel suggests the romance between Iris and Dorota may be doomed. Iris repeatedly compares Dorota to her late mother, recalling how Dorota’s panic mirrors her mother’s overwhelmed voice. Yet, like a child’s unfaltering belief in a protective parent, Iris clings to a hopeful fantasy of starting anew with Dorota and Ilya in a peaceful lakeside bed-and-breakfast, safe from both human threats and ecological disaster.
Dorota whispers that their imagined refuge would be beyond the reach of danger. Still, Iris is grounded in reality: she knows the rains will eventually come, quelling the fires — though the threat will inevitably return. Preparing herself for inevitable solitude, she convinces herself that losing this dream would mean little more than forfeiting 'a castle in the air.'
