While we weren’t aware of it when we chose the date months ago, our last Reading Room event had some unexpected competition: a partial solar eclipse visible across Germany that evening. Nevertheless, the reading garden of the iconic and much-loved Hansabibliothek by Werner Düttmann filled with fellow readers quite quickly. And thanks to the perfect summer weather, we were able to gather there to read, chat, and enjoy the evening together.

For this edition of Reading Room, we had decided to skip the music. And as much as we love our curated music sets, it turned out that there was also something really special about experiencing the collective silence: everyone was absorbed in their books, and at least to me, it felt like a shared sense of quiet and focus, with the garden around us and the sounds of the city in the background adding to the atmosphere.

As the hour of silent reading slowly came to an end, the first tentative conversations started. I always appreciate this part of our events just as much as the quietness before. There’s room for everyone, and I like that all of these things can happen at the same time: while some people began chatting and sharing what they had brought to read, others kept reading, and some headed home, having come mainly for the experience of reading silently alongside others.

Once again, there were plenty of familiar faces, but also so many new ones. We love that every Reading Room event feels a little different, not only because of the location and, usually, the music, but also because of the people who join us. They are a big part of what makes each event feel different, and a key reason why we keep coming back to do this.

A big thank you to everyone who joined us and made the evening so special, to Stefanie and the whole Hansabibliothek team for welcoming us, and to Madeleine Palm for once again capturing it so beautifully.

– Teresa

Dear fellow readers,

We’re kicking off this newsletter with some good news: RSVP is now open for our next in-person Reading Room.

Inside this edition, you’ll also find a new Fellow Readers interview we’ve been excited to share, fresh additions to your reading list, and a look back at what’s been happening around Reading Room lately.

RSVP for Reading Room #12 is now open! For our next Reading Room event, we’re returning to Hansaviertel, where the legendary Hansabibliothek will open its doors for an evening of shared reading. Join us on August 12 and settle in with a book, either in the library’s beautiful garden courtyard or inside one of its light-filled reading rooms.

Click below to RSVP and reserve your spot:

As you’re reading this, Shirley is hopefully enjoying a few well-deserved days off, but before heading off, she shared a conversation with writer Theresia Enzensberger. They talk about reading rituals, her Substack Reading List Berlin, which she publishes with Patrik Gräb, and the book she’s currently working on (yes, there’s a new novel in the making!).

Read our Fellow Readers interview with Theresia Enzensberger here:

Looking for your next read? We’ve rounded up the books the three of us have been reading over the past few months, along with the ones currently waiting on our nightstands. Maybe you’ll discover something to add to your own stack.

Some of you may have noticed that our events have been happening a little more frequently than usual. We normally aim for a rhythm of every two months, but this summer had other plans. A few unexpected opportunities came our way, and we happily said yes. That said, here’s a little recap of our Reading Room × Filter special edition:

Before we say goodbye for today, we wanted to share three new books by women you may already know from our Fellow Readers series:

Ubin Eoh has just published her debut novel, Honey und Blondie. // Dana Vowinckel has also released a new book, Anton und Alma. // Friederike Schilbach recently published Die Damentoilette, a collection of 22 literary love letters to one of the most overlooked places. The book includes contributions by fellow readers and writers including Dana and Ubin.

We haven’t had the chance to read any of them yet, but they’re already on our reading list.

We hope you enjoy reading this edition!

— Deniz, Shirley & Teresa

For the next in-person edition of Reading Room, we’re returning to Hansaviertel, where on August 12 one of Berlin’s most remarkable public libraries will open its doors to us: Hansabibliothek.

Designed by Werner Düttmann as part of Interbau 1957, Hansabibliothek is defined by generous window fronts arranged around a quiet reading courtyard. The building feels both sheltered and open, connected to its surroundings while offering a sense of calm. To us, it’s one of the city’s most inviting places to spend time with books, and we’re excited to spend an evening reading there together.

Our silent reading session will take place in the library’s beautiful garden courtyard, where chairs, blankets, and cushions will be available. Should the weather not cooperate, we’ll move indoors and settle in among the bookshelves instead.

Doors open at 6:00 pm, giving you time to find a spot, grab a drink – non-alcoholic refreshments will be available on a donation basis –, and settle in.

After a short introduction, we’ll begin our silent reading session at 6:30 pm.

An hour later, at 7:30 pm, the space will open up to conversation. You’re invited to exchange thoughts with fellow readers (for those who find approaching strangers a little daunting, we’ve prepared a few conversation cards to help get things started), browse what others have brought along, continue reading, or simply enjoy the atmosphere until the library closes at 8:00 pm.

RSVP here**

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New to Reading Room? Here’s how it works:

• Bring the book you’re currently reading, or a favorite you’d like to revisit.

• Settle in for a peaceful one-hour silent reading session.

• Share a favorite line, recommendation, or insight with a fellow reader, or simply keep reading.

Reading Room #12
🗓 Wednesday, August 12, 2026
Doors: 6:00 pm
Silent Reading: 6:30-7:30 pm
📍Hansabibliothek
Altonaer Straße 15
10557 Berlin

**As spots are limited, please let us know by email if your plans change after you RSVP so we can offer your place to someone else.

I first heard about Theresia Enzensberger in 2022, when she published her second novel Auf See. My friend Anna, who has recommended many wonderful books to me over the years, passed this one along too and it opened up worlds for me in a way I hadn’t experienced since reading books like Tintenherz as a teenager. It’s a quietly unsettling story about a young woman growing up in a floating libertarian city in the Baltic Sea, written with an almost architectural precision. I couldn’t put it down and it immediately made me want to find out more about the person behind it. Which makes it all the more special to now have the chance to ask Theresia a few questions.

Theresia Enzensberger grew up in Munich, studied Film and Film Studies at Bard College in New York, and has lived in Berlin since 2011. As a freelance author, she writes prose, essays, reportages and criticism for, among others, the FAZ, Zeit Online and Monopol. Her debut novel Blaupause (2017) was translated into several languages and awarded the Alfred Döblin Medal; her second novel Auf See (2022) was nominated for the German Book Prize. Most recently, she published a slim, sharp and philosophical essay about sleep in the Hanser Berlin Reihe Leben.

Alongside her literary work, she runs the newsletter Reading List Berlin together with Patrik Gräb. In their words an “entirely subjective list of things happening in Berlin”, which is one of the most personal and attentive guides to the city’s cultural life. It’s the kind of newsletter that feels less like a curated feed and more like a recommendation from a friend who always knows what’s worth your time. (Theresia will share some exciting news about it at the end.)

What fascinates me most about Theresia’s writing is the worlds she builds. Worlds so precisely crafted that you can surrender to them completely, let yourself be carried by them and yet they can feel unsettling and suffocating at the same time. Whether it’s the Baltic Sea or sleep you simply can’t find your way into. I’m so glad we got the chance to introduce her to you.

What are you currently reading?

Theresia: I always read two or three books at the same time. Currently it’s a bit research based: Dürrenmatt’s crime fiction for an original detective story, and re-reading Cusk’s Outline for the stories-within-a-story. Other than that, I just stumbled upon this brilliant non-fiction book called The Yahoo Boys, where the narrator goes on a trip to find out more about Nigeria’s scammers. It reads almost like a novel, but not without touching upon the more interesting aspects of this shadow economy.

Do you have a reading routine and if so, what does it look like?

Theresia: I like to ask people the same thing! I feel like we’re all struggling to make time for reading. The first thing I do in the morning is to delete all social media from my phone – sadly a necessary first step. Then I have to tell myself that reading is part of my work and I’m allowed to read during a workday (something that feels indecently luxurious). So the routine is something like: Read a bit in the morning, read for about an hour after lunch, and another little bit before bed.

Your work moves between novels, essays and journalism. Do you think of these as very different modes of writing, or do they all feed into each other?

Theresia: They’re both incredibly distinct and have their own qualities and pitfalls AND they feed into each other. I’m definitely not a purist when it comes to categories, and I think a novel can always profit from a little bit of factuality.

You studied film studies before you wrote fiction. How has that shaped the way you see and construct a story?

Theresia: When I was at film school, my professors would tell me that the way I think was too literary, and now that I write fiction, people tell me my prose is very cinematic. I think maybe it has something to do with how much I’m inspired by genre, and that I don’t think entertainment is a dirty word. Also: at film school, I was taught to think in images, and I think I never quite stopped doing that.

You've been publishing Reading List Berlin for a while now. Does Berlin itself ever feel like a text you're trying to read in a way to make sense of it?

Theresia: No, I think a city is much less abstract than that – which is what makes it beautiful. It consists of people, and we’re so lucky to have that many talented, active participants in our culture in this town. Patrik Gräb, my partner in this endeavour, is himself a host to Literaturhaus Neukölln, an event series that takes his cue from the notorious sentence by a former Neukölln mayor: "Neukölln ist überall.” ("Neukölln is everywhere.”)

And starting in November, we’re going to get an opportunity to talk to these participants on stage: We’re hosting Berlin Reading List at Roter Salon at Volksbühne, a format where we ask writers what books they were reading while writing a specific text. There is also going to be a podcast. We’re very excited!

Reading List Berlin

An entirely subjective list of things happening in Berlin

By Theresia & Patrik

Is there a book you find yourself recommending constantly, almost regardless of who you're talking to?

Theresia: I’ve had a years long obsession with Mating by Norman Rush, and I know I’m not alone in this, but after breathlessly recommending it to everyone that I came across, I realized that it’s a very polarizing book. Some people find it tedious, others brilliant. When I get asked for recommendations, I now usually ask what people usually like reading.

Were there books you read as a child or teenager that you still think about today?

Theresia: Animorphs! Does anyone remember this? It was a series in which these kids were inhabiting the bodies and consciousnesses of animals. I loved it.

What are you working on right now and are you willing to share a glimpse of it?

Theresia: As you can maybe tell from the research books I’ve shared above, I’m currently working on a crime novel. I’m not quite ready to talk more about it, so that’s all I’ll share. I’m also writing a book of essays that continues my interest in all things “extrastate”, so organizing outside of nation state structure.

Thank you so much for this beautiful insight into your work and thoughts, Theresia.

— Shirley

June and July have been filled with novels, some memoirs (and biographies) for me. During summer time I love reading in the mornings at Prinzenbad after a refreshing pre-work swim, in between hikes or at newly discovered cafes, parks, or lakes during holidays.

Originally, I had planned spending some time this summer with Clarice Lispector, but I’m still looking for the W. W. Norton editions (which I know is silly and probably makes my life more difficult than it needs to be, but here we are :)). Instead, I spent some time with Ingeborg Bachmann (very fitting in the month of her 100th birthday). Regina Schilling’s beautiful documentary, with Sandra Hüller’s narration, finally led me to Malina, Bachmann’s masterpiece and a novel I will certainly return to. I'm fascinated by Ingeborg Bachmann’s personality, life, and her brilliant use of language.

Other personal highlights were Eileen Gray’s biography and Lena Dunham’s memoir Famesick (which also made me start watching Girls). If you are looking for something lighter, I would recommend Jem Calder’s I Want You to Be Happy (think Perfection by Vincenzo Latronico meets Sally Rooney), Yael Van Der Wouden’s Safe Keep or Vigdis Hjorth’s witty If Only. And if you aren’t on it already, I recommend starting (or continuing) Solvej Balle’s On the Calculation of Volume series. I can’t wait for the next translation!

Next up on my reading list: Sara Baume's Opening Night, Gwendoline Riley's The Palm House, Deborah Levy's August Blue, Gaston Bachelard's The Poetics of Space (and, hopefully soon, Clarice Lispector's Near to the Wild Heart).

— Deniz

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My summer break is just about to start; I’m typing these lines from a train heading south. The last few weeks have been so packed that reading unfortunately fell short, which makes me even happier to head into vacation with a bag full of books.

I’ve just started Fast Abend, Immer Noch Hell, a book I got for my birthday and the perfect way to kick off summer vacation: Danish author Linea Maja Ernst pulls you straight into a perfect midsummer setting, following a group of queer friends reuniting after years apart in a house in the Danish countryside. Having studied together and having been through so much, ten years later old memories, experiences, changes and longings resurface. There’s also a lot of cooking in this book, described so deliciously, it's hard not to get hungry reading it.

Next up is The Summer Book by Tove Jansson, which I actually started back in spring but decided to save and finish in summer instead. August Blue by Deborah Levy has also been sitting on my shelf for a while, waiting for just the right moment in August. Thank you for the inspiration on both books, Deniz. I’m also really looking forward to Haus Aus Wind by Laura Naumann, another summer novel, this one set on the Algarve. I’m also super curious about The Guest by Emma Cline, a story that unfolds over five summer days in the Hamptons on Long Island. And as I loved Ayelet Gundar-Goshen’s Waking Lions years ago, I am now very excited to dive into another of her books, about inner conflict, moral values and a toxic society: Ungebetene Gäste.

— Shirley

Is it just me, or do you also tend to pack far too many books, even for the shortest trip, just to make sure you can choose based on your actual vacation mood? And who knows, maybe you’ll even underestimate how many books you end up reading (that happened to me for the first time last year).

Anyway, I just got back from a week on my favorite Danish island, and what you’ll find here is a selection of summer reads from Berlin and Bornholm, plus the book that’s waiting for me as soon as I finish the two I’m currently reading. Here we go.

I had been impatiently waiting for My Year in Paris with Gertrude Stein by Deborah Levy, one of my favorite writers of all time, and it didn’t disappoint. I loved the way she weaves historical reflections on Gertrude Stein together with the stories of three very different women whose lives become intertwined through what feels like both chance and fate.

After Deniz, Shirley, and I had the chance to see Siri Hustvedt live during her book tour, it felt even more moving, and at times heartbreaking, to read Ghost Stories. It reads like Hustvedt’s way of making sense of the loss of Paul Auster, and it’s a deeply tender portrait of love, grief, and memory (thank you again for that very special birthday gift, Shirley.)

Four more wholehearted recommendations: Ayşegül Savaş and Jem Calder, two writers I only discovered a few months ago but who completely won me over. Calder’s I Want You to Be Happy is such a precise observation of… I’m still not entirely sure what to call it… modern relationships? Modern loneliness? I also enjoyed his debut, Reward System, but I’d always recommend starting with his second book. Ayşegül Savaş, on the other hand, completely amazed me with her quiet, poetic prose. She has this remarkable ability to bring us incredibly close to her narrators’ inner lives while keeping the world around them slightly out of focus. Absolutely essential reading!

A few more books I read over the last few months: Notizen für John (Notes to John) by Joan Didion, Constance Debré’s latest, Offenses (which unfortunately disappointed me), and Kae Tempest’s Divisible by Itself and One.

Recent reads from Bornholm: You’ve probably seen the cover of Strangers all over Instagram by now. I certainly had. Despite my initial skepticism, I packed it anyway, and I’m so glad I did. It’s the story of a man who leaves his wife and children without warning during the pandemic. A devastating premise, but an incredibly compelling novel. After finishing Strangers, I picked up Breakdown by Cathy Sweeney. It also begins with someone walking away from their marriage without warning, this time abandoning her husband and children. I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m curious to see where the narrator will take me.

Lately I’ve also been reading, watching, and thinking a lot about digital and AI ethics, the effects AI has on our ability to think critically, and the growing influence of the “tech bros” on politics and society. After seeing Rainer Mühlhoff’s re:publica talk, I immediately bought Künstliche Intelligenz und der neue Faschismus. I’m still reading it, but it already feels like one of those books that will stay with me. It’s part of the Reclam series, so it comes in that wonderfully compact format that’s easy to take anywhere.

Another recent discovery was A Toolkit for Gathering, a wonderfully inspiring workbook on creating meaningful gatherings in cultural contexts. I picked it up on Deniz’s recommendation, and I can’t wait for us to talk about whether some of its ideas could inspire future Reading Room events.

And finally, waiting patiently on my bedside table is Booker Prize winner Taiwan Travelogue by Yang Shuang-zi. I’m very excited to dive into that one next.

— Teresa

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Reading Room has always been about bringing people together through a shared love of reading and it will always be an an open, welcoming and connecting space. Last week we gathered at the beautiful Bar Neiro, tucked in Kreuzberg’s back yards, though the mood was heavier than usual after the shocking and heartbreaking news that broke the night before. We felt it was important to open our doors regardless, offering comfort and community to anyone who wanted to sit with others.

For this collaborative edition, Annabel from Yoshi en welcomed everyone with a lovely cold-brew tea, while Heiko Hofmann, founder of Filter, prepared the music for the afternoon. We settled into our books for a session of silent reading, accompanied by two beautiful albums: Through the Looking Glass by Midori Takada and Space 1.8 by Nala Sinephro. With a smaller group than usual and the dim and rainy summer afternoon, this edition felt especially intimate.

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Throughout the silent reading, we tasted a selection of Yoshi en’s Japanese and Chinese teas while listening to Heiko’s music picks through Bar Neiro’s beautiful vintage Altec speakers. The sound was so clear, which made the music feel much more present than in our usual set-ups.

It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon we’re grateful to have shared with each other. Thank you to everyone who joined us, until next time.

^{Photos Reading Room x FILTER by Shirley Heim & Deniz Everling}

Dear fellow readers,

How is summer treating you so far?

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been busy working on the next analogue Reading Room editions. And can you believe it? The next two events are already planned and confirmed. While you’ll find everything you need to know about our June gathering, taking place next week, we’re also excited to share that another Reading Room is already in the works for July.

But one thing at a time.

In this edition, we’re sharing the story behind next week’s collaborative event with Filter, a communal listening platform founded by our friend Heiko Hoffmann. You’ll also find Heiko’s guest essay on Tokyo’s listening cafés, a new Fellow Readers interview with Berlin-based writer and journalist Lola Fröbe, and a small recap of our recent morning edition.

Happy reading.

There’s a new Reading Room event coming up, and it’s another special edition: On June 28, we are teaming up with Filter for a relaxed Sunday afternoon of reading and listening.

Hosted at Bar Neiro, this gathering invites you to spend the afternoon reading alongside each other while Heiko’s curated selection of ambient music fills the room. Inspired by Japanese listening cafés and accompanied by a small tea selection from Yoshi en, the event is an invitation to slow down, focus, and experience the quiet pleasure of being alone together.

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In an accompanying guest contribution, Heiko shares some of the thoughts and observations that led to both this event and the founding of Filter.

Looking back on a recent trip to Japan, he writes about the listening cafés that stayed with him long after returning home: places where people gather not necessarily to talk, but to listen; to spend time with themselves while sharing a space with others.

Read his notes from Tokyo’s listening cafés here:

For a new edition of Fellow Readers, we spoke with Berlin-based writer and journalist Lola Froebe, whose work moves between fashion, culture journalism, and editorial writing.

We asked Lola about the books currently on her nightstand, the publications that shaped her thinking, and the writers she keeps returning to. The conversation moves from early magazine memories to contemporary criticism, from Girls to Ursula K. Le Guin, and the ways reading continues to inform her work across fashion and culture. Enjoy!

And last but not least, we haven’t yet got around to sharing a recap of our very first morning edition in one of our newsletters.

Back in May, we gathered at Café Tiergarten in Hansaviertel for a quiet morning of reading and conversation. Instead of meeting after work, we came together over coffee and books, enjoying a slower start to the day in good company.

We’ve put together a short reflection on the event, along with a few impressions from the morning:

We hope you enjoy reading this edition!

— Deniz, Shirley & Teresa

English and Japanese versions below

Together we dance alone – unter diesem Namen gründeten vor fast zehn Jahren der Berliner DJ Dixon und seine Frau Ana Ofak ein Clubwear-Label. Das Label gibt es längst nicht mehr, an die Kleidung kann ich mich nicht erinnern, aber der Name klingt immer noch nach. Zum einen, weil ich den Großteil meines Lebens genau das gemacht habe und immer noch genieße: in Clubs und auf Partys, verloren im Moment und in der Menge, allein für mich zu tanzen. Zum anderen, weil ich in den letzten Jahren immer stärker danach gesucht habe, diese gleichzeitige und nur scheinbar widersprüchliche Erfahrung von Gemeinschaft und Für-sich-Sein auch außerhalb des Dancefloors zu finden.

Und damit bin ich nicht allein. Vielmehr scheint mein Wunsch Teil eines grundlegenden gesellschaftlichen Bedürfnisses zu sein: Menschen sehnen sich nach analogen und sozialen Orten, an denen sie in Gemeinschaft mit sich selbst sein können. Nach Orten, an denen sie verweilen, an denen aber zugleich auch neue soziale Bindungen entstehen können. Allein im vergangenen Jahr sind unzählige Beiträge zu dem Thema erschienen. Neu ist die Beobachtung allerdings nicht: Bereits 2011 veröffentlichte die Soziologin Sherry Turkle ihr einflussreiches Buch Alone Together, das auf Deutsch unter dem Titel Verloren unter 100 Freunden: Wie wir in der digitalen Welt seelisch verkümmern erschienen ist.

Kürzlich war ich in auf der Suche nach solchen Orten und Erfahrungen in Japan. In fünf Städten habe ich dutzende sogenannter Listening Cafés und Bars besucht – Orte, die in Japan eine hundert Jahre alte Tradition haben und stark in der Alltagskultur verankert sind. Hier werden Jazz- oder klassische Musik-Alben (bei neueren Bars auch Ambient, Soul oder experimentelle Sounds) meist von Vinyl oder CD auf fantastisch klingenden alten Studio-Lautsprechern gespielt. Die Menschen kommen alleine oder zu zweit, um sich eine kleine Auszeit zu nehmen. Was ich nicht erwartet habe: wie oft an diesen Orten Hören und Lesen, Musik und Literatur zusammenkommen. Das Lesen ist, neben dem aufmerksamen Hören (und Filterkaffee-Trinken), die Hauptbeschäftigung in den Jazz Kissas, in denen ich zu Besuch war. In jedem japanischen Listening Café sieht man neben sich Menschen sitzen, die in ihren Büchern vertieft sind. Und selbst in einigen Bibliotheken – Orten, die ansonsten für ihre Stille bekannt sind – begegnete ich großartiger Musik.

Vinyl-Bars und Listening-Events gibt es mittlerweile (zum Glück!) einige. In Japan sprachen mich diesmal jedoch vor allem die Orte an, an denen man sich auch tagsüber und ohne Alkohol zu trinken die Zeit nimmt, gemeinsam Musik zu hören – wenn man noch wacher ist, aufmerksamer für das, was man hört, liest und trinkt, und den geteilten Fokus besonders schätzt.

Nicht zuletzt diese Orte und Erlebnisse in Tokio haben mich dazu inspiriert, mit Filter auch in Berlin Raum für etwas Ähnliches zu schaffen.

Der gemeinsame Nachmittag mit Reading Room und der Bar Neiro ist ein erster Versuch. Hier erfahrt ihr mehr über die erste Reading Room x Filter Special Edition, die am 26. Juli 2026 ab 15 Uhr stattfindet.

—Gastbeitrag von Heiko Hoffmann. Heiko Hoffmann ist Gastprofessor am Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music an der NYU Berlin. Folge seiner neuen Communal-Listening-Plattform Filter auf Instagram.

Together, we listen (and read) alone

Japenese version below

Together we dance alone – it was under this name that Berlin DJ Dixon and his wife Ana Ofak founded a clubwear label nearly ten years ago. The label is long gone, and I can’t recall the clothes, but the name still resonates. Partly because I’ve spent the better part of my life doing exactly that, and I still enjoy it: dancing for myself, lost in the moment and the crowd, in clubs and at parties. But also because, in recent years, I’ve found myself increasingly searching for that same simultaneous and only seemingly contradictory experience of community and solitude outside of the dancefloor.

And I’m not alone in that. In fact, this desire seems to reflect a broader social longing: people increasingly seek out analog and social spaces where they can be with themselves in a community. Places where one can simply linger, but where new social bonds can also emerge. Countless articles have been written about the phenomenon in recent years. Yet the observation itself is hardly new. Back in 2011, sociologist Sherry Turkle published her influential book Alone Together (published in German as Verloren unter 100 Freunden: Wie wir in der digitalen Welt seelisch verkümmern).

Recently, I went searching for such experiences and places in Japan. Across five cities, I visited dozens of so-called listening cafés and bars – establishments with a century-old tradition in Japan, deeply anchored in everyday culture. Here, jazz or classical albums (or, in newer bars, ambient, soul, or experimental sounds) are played, mostly from vinyl or CD, on incredibly high-end vintage studio speakers. People come together, alone or in pairs, to take a small breath. What I didn’t expect was how often listening and reading, music and literature, converge in these spaces. Reading is, along with listening attentively (and drinking filter coffee), the main activity at the jazz kissas I visited. In every Japanese listening café, you see people sitting next to you who are engrossed in their books. And even in some libraries – places otherwise known for their quiet – I came across wonderful music.

Fortunately, vinyl bars and listening events can now be found in many cities. In Japan, however, I was particularly drawn to places where people take the time to listen to music together during the day, without alcohol. Perhaps because one is more awake, more attentive to what one is hearing, reading, and drinking, and more appreciative of that shared focus.

It was places and experiences like these in Tokyo that inspired me to create space for something similar in Berlin through Filter.

Our collaborative afternoon with Reading Room and Bar Neiro is a first step in that direction. Learn more about the first Reading Room × Filter special edition, taking place on July 26, 2026, at 3 PM, here.

—Guest post by Heiko Hoffmann. Heiko Hoffmann is an adjunct professor at the Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music at NYU Berlin. Follow his new communal listening platform, Filter, on Instagram.

共に、私たちは一人で聴き（そして読む）

“Together we dance alone” ——約10年前、ベルリンのDJ Dixonと妻のAna Ofakがクラブウェアのレーベルを立ち上げた時の名前です。レーベルはとうに無くなり、服の記憶も曖昧ですが、その名前は今も心に響いています。人生の大部分を、まさにその通りに過ごしてきたからです。クラブやパーティーで、群衆の中にいながら一人の世界に入り込み、その瞬間に没頭して踊ること。それは今でも私の楽しみです。しかし同時に、ここ数年、ダンスフロアの外でも、コミュニティと孤独という、一見矛盾するような体験を同時に味わえる場所をますます求めるようになっています。

“Alone Together” は、社会学者のシェリー・タークルが2011年に出版した影響力のある本のタイトルです（ドイツ語の副題は「デジタル世界でいかに私たちの精神が枯渇していくか」）。デジタルで繋がっているにもかかわらず、あるいはそれゆえに生じる深い孤独こそ、多くの人々が、コミュニティの中で自分自身でいられるアナログで社交的な場所を渇望する最も大きな理由の一つかもしれません。ただそこに佇むことができ、それでいて新しい社会的な絆も芽生えうる場所です。

最近、私は日本でそのような体験や場所を探し求めました。5つの都市を巡り、数十軒のいわゆるリスニング・カフェやバーを訪れました。これらは日本で100年以上の伝統を持ち、日常文化に深く根付いている施設です。ここでは、ジャズやクラシックのアルバム（新しいバーではアンビエント、ソウル、エクスペリメンタルなど）が、主にアナログ盤やCDから、驚くほど高性能なヴィンテージ・スタジオ・スピーカーで再生されます。人々は一人、あるいは二人で集まり、束の間の休息をとります。予想外だったのは、これらの空間で、聴くことと読むこと、音楽と文学がこれほど頻繁に融合していることでした。東京で見つけた、共に聴き、共に読むための私のお気に入りの場所を3つご紹介します。

結局のところ、ベルリンで同じような場所を作りたいというインスピレーションを与えてくれたのは、東京でのこうした場所や体験でした。幸いなことに、現在ベルリンにはいくつかのヴァイナル・バーやリスニング・イベントが存在します。しかし、私が日本で特に惹かれたのは、人々が日中に、アルコールを飲まずに共に音楽を聴く時間を持つ場所でした。聴いているもの、読んでいるもの、飲んでいるものに対して、より目が覚め、注意深くなり、その共有された集中に感謝できるような時間です。私たちのReading RoomとBar Neiroとの共同で開催する午後のイベントは、その方向への第一歩です。

ゲスト投稿：ハイコ・ホフマン（Heiko Hoffmann）。ハイコ・ホフマンは、ニューヨーク大学ベルリン校のクライヴ・デイヴィス録音音楽研究所の非常勤教授です。彼の新しいリスニング・プラットフォームFilterをInstagramでフォローしてください。第1回Reading Room x Filterセッションは、7月26日（日）午後3時からBar Neiroで開催されます。

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Update (25th of June):
Due to the extreme heat forecast for Berlin this weekend, we’ve decided to reschedule our edition with Filter at Bar Neiro. We’ll now meet on July 26th for an afternoon of reading, music & green tea together.
Your spot is automatically reserved — no need to RSVP again.
If you can’t make it, please let us know so we can offer your place to another reader.

We are very happy to announce a new collaborative edition of Reading Room: Teaming up with Heiko Hoffmann’s newly founded communal listening platform Filter, we invite you to a relaxed Sunday afternoon of reading and listening at Bar Neiro on June 28, 2026.

Together we will be hosting a pop-up session that brings the experiences of communal reading and listening bar culture into one space. The idea for this afternoon comes from Heiko’s recent time in Japan, moving through listening cafés where people sit during the day, attentive and calm, often alone but still together (read more about it in his current guest contribution). Back in Berlin, he founded Filter as a way to bring something of that atmosphere into the city. An extension of what already exists in vinyl bars and listening spaces, but with a different rhythm. A daytime setting where reading, listening and presence sit next to each other, and where focus is shared rather than split.

On June 28, for one afternoon, we bring these threads together at Bar Neiro: Bring your favorite book or the one you are currently reading, find a comfortable seat, settle in, and dive into your story. Heiko will soundtrack the afternoon with a selection of ambient music, alongside a small tea selection by Yoshi en featuring Japanese and Chinese teas.

You can now sign up for you spot at our Reading Room x Filter special edition:

RSVP here.**

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New to Reading Room? Here’s how it works:

• Bring the book you’re currently reading, or a favorite you’d like to revisit.

• Doors open at 3:00 pm, giving you time to find a seat and settle in.

• After a short introduction, we begin a one-hour silent reading session staring at around 3:30 pm.

• An hour later, at 4:30 pm, the space opens up to conversation. You’re invited to exchange thoughts with fellow readers (for those who find approaching strangers a little daunting, we’ve prepared a few conversation cards to help get things started), browse what others have brought along, continue reading, or simply enjoy the atmosphere.

• All the while, enjoy a freshly made cup of tea by Yoshi en and let yourself be guided by a selection of ambient music curated especially for this afternoon.

There are places where reading or listening to music feels like something you do alone. And then there are moments where it becomes shared, quietly held in the same room. This is an afternoon for that second kind.

We look forward to sharing this special afternoon with you!

For a new edition of Fellow Readers, we’re speaking with Lola Froebe, a Berlin-based writer whose work moves between fashion and culture journalism, creative communication, and cultural analysis.

The written word sits at the center of Lola’s practice: Alongside contributions to publications including Harper’s Bazaar and ELLE Germany, she also writes the newsletter New Slang, which I’d warmly recommend to anyone interested in fashion beyond its surface. Through New Slang, Lola explores fashion as a language, reflecting on “how dressing becomes a way of thinking, feeling, and belonging. Understanding clothes not as surface, but as culture: what we wear, why we wear it, and what it says about the time we live in.“

I’ve always found it especially interesting to learn about the books and references shaping people who write themselves, so for this edition we asked Lola about the writers, publications, and places that continue to influence the way she thinks, reads, and moves through the world. We hope you enjoy it.

Hi Lola, you regularly share the books you’re reading on your Instagram. What are you currently reading?

Lola: I’m currently knee-deep in Famesick by Lena Dunham, which completely transports me back to the early 2010s. She writes about everything surrounding the making of Girls – such a defining show of that era – weaving together both her private and professional life with an honesty that feels almost disarming. The writing of Lena Dunham has always stood out for me. She has an incredibly sharp eye for observing the world around her, especially the contradictions of modern womanhood, friendship, ambition, and feminism. I’d also highly recommend Verified Strangers, the serial novel she wrote for Vogue a few years ago.

As I’m reading Famesick, I’m currently also rewatching Girls and what fascinates me most is how little it has aged. It always existed in this very particular intersection of deeply personal storytelling and broader social commentary. Of course, aesthetically it’s unmistakably 2010s – older iPhones, no video calls, Brooklyn at its peak cultural moment – but emotionally, it could just as easily be 2026. The anxieties, the self-awareness, the performative parts of identity and relationships all still feel incredibly current. And don’t even get me started about the fashion of that show: it’s brilliantly on character!

Her memoir touches on all of that too, while also becoming much more vulnerable. She writes openly about fame, chronic pain, illness, relationships, including her time with Jack Antonoff, and the strange process of navigating your twenties while the world watches. Her earlier memoir, Not That Kind of Girl, didn’t fully resonate with me, but this one absolutely does. I think part of why it stays with me is because it reminds me of a very specific period in my own life, moving through the world with a more open, curious, and instinctive mindset. It also captures something quite universal: how fragile the body can be, and how a life that appears glamorous and perfect from the outside can, in reality, feel entirely different beneath the surface.

Fashion often moves incredibly fast, but your work tends to create space for reflection within that speed. Has there been a specific writer or publication that shaped the way you learned to think and write about fashion and culture yourself?

Lola: The most influential publication from my teenage years was probably ELLE Girl, which launched in Germany in the early 2000s as a sub-publication of ELLE. I bought every single issue. I loved how immediate and culturally plugged-in it felt – every edition captured the mood of the moment. It would introduce runway trends and styling ideas alongside features on TV, film, and music, and for me, that mix was incredibly formative. I even discovered my favorite band at the time, Franz Ferdinand, through an article in the magazine, and I still have a little scrap of that page somewhere. Looking back, that magazine was really my first introduction to the idea that fashion doesn’t exist in isolation: that it’s deeply connected to music, art, film, and youth culture. That realization shaped the way I still think and work today. And it’s funny that I now write for ELLE myself – that feels actually very full-circle.

Later on, I had a very similar experience with the German edition of Interview. The editorials, interviews, and overall curation were exceptional. A single issue could give you a complete sense of what was happening across fashion, art, design, and cinema at that moment. It felt intelligent and aspirational without ever losing its edge. That was the first time I thought: I want to do this too. Shortly after, I began writing for Material Girl and later for i-D, which really became the starting point for my own path into fashion and cultural journalism.

Are there any contemporary writers, newsletters, or publications you find yourself returning to again and again at the moment?

Lola: I’ve always adored the work of Sheila Heti – her writing has accompanied me through different phases of my life. It started with How Should a Person Be?, then Women in Clothes, which she co-authored with Leanne Shapton and Heidi Julavits, and more recently Pure Colour. I even had the chance to interview her about Motherhood for Vogue, which felt truly special because her work has influenced the way I think about identity, womanhood, and contemporary writing for years.

In fashion journalism, I really admire Vanessa Friedman at The New York Times and Cathy Horyn at The Cut. And if you want to truly understand the inner workings of the fashion industry, Lauren Sherman and her newsletter Line Sheet for Puck are essential reading: sharp, informed, and witty.

Furthermore, I’ve recently fallen deeply into Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas. The storytelling and world-building are astonishing, and what surprised me most is how many parallels the series draws to the universal themes and issues of humankind. In that sense, it reminds me of Ursula K. Le Guin which I love as well: her intellectual, deeply political, and feminist speculative fiction that uses fantasy to say something very real about society and power. I’d especially recommend Space Crone, her posthumous collection of feminist essays and reflections. And I always have a large edition of Earthsea on my nightstand that I return to every now and then.

How do you balance reading for pleasure with reading for work or research? Do those categories overlap for you, or do you try to keep them separate?

Lola: For me, everything is connected. What I consume out of pure pleasure and curiosity in my private life inevitably feeds into my work. And that’s actually the most exciting part of it: noticing when something I’ve read, seen, or listened to inspires and enriches my work.

Going analogue for a moment: which bookstores, in Berlin or elsewhere, do you always recommend discovering?

Lola: I recently discovered Llibreria Terranova in Barcelona which is a bookstore specialized in architecture, photography, design, art, and visual culture. The selection is incredibly well edited – not overwhelmingly huge, but precise in a way that makes you suddenly interested in subjects you previously knew nothing about. I loved that it didn’t feel overly polished or intimidating in the way design bookstores sometimes can. There was warmth to it, people genuinely browsing, sitting on the chairs flipping through books, having conversations about exhibitions they were reminded of.

Another favorite is Saint George’s Bookshop, an English-language bookstore in Berlin with a beautifully curated selection of new and secondhand titles. I also love Dussmann, especially its English section, which feels almost like a shop within a shop. You can reliably find any contemporary title there. And in Leipzig, there’s Connewitzer Verlagsbuchhandlung – a place I could genuinely browse in for hours.

What’s next on your reading stack?

Lola: Next on my stack is Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke which has been featured everywhere lately. What I like about it is that, even just from the blurb, the story reads almost like a Novelle, with its “unerhörte Begebenheit” – which instantly transports me back to German class at school. It’s about a woman who wakes up one day cold, filthy, and terrified in 1855. In a way, it also feels a bit like Franz Kafka or Cees Nooteboom: that same uncanny sense of dislocation and reality slightly slipping out of place. I’m genuinely excited to see how it turns out, and whether it leans fully into fantasy or becomes something else entirely.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and insights with us, dear Lola.

— Teresa

Last Sunday, 8:30 AM. While most of the city was still asleep, we gathered at Café Tiergarten, one of our favourite spots and a quiet oasis in Hansaviertel. A place far away from the city’s usual hectic pace.

Most of us settled outside on the beautiful terrace, searching for the perfect spot: half sun, half shade, ideal for reading. We were especially happy to see many of our dog friends join us too, books ready to go.

Once everyone had found their place and ordered their first cup of tea or coffee, we began our silent reading session accompanied by a curated ambient playlist.

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Despite the forecast predicting rain, we were luckily greeted by a chilly but sunny morning. While a few enjoyed the warmth and cozy interior, most stayed outside, taking in the freshness of the morning as we slowly woke up and immersed in our books.

Personally I had a moment of pause, looking around and thinking: this was exactly what I needed after a hectic week. There was something special about the quiet atmosphere on the terrace. Everyone turned their faces toward the light to catch the first warmth of the day while reading in silence. The birds accompanying our reading made it even more peaceful.

After an hour of silent reading, the morning naturally shifted. Some continued reading, while others settled into a well-deserved breakfast, chatting with neighbours and regular customers who joined us to enjoy their Sunday.

We want to thank Café Tiergarten once again for opening their doors at such exceptionally early hours and making it possible for us to experience the early morning magic of Tiergarten together.

Photos: Madeleine Palm. Thank you!

Dear fellow readers,

There’s so much we want to share with you (once again) that we’re not quite sure where to begin, especially since everything feels like a highlight to us, and hopefully to you too. So we’ll just start here, in no particular order:

There’s a new Reading Room event coming up, and it’s an Early Morning Edition.

Since two thirds of the team are, more or less willingly, early birds, this is something we’ve been talking about for a while. When the opportunity came up to host it in a beautiful location like Café Tiergarten, it all fell into place. You’ll find more on that below:

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Back to the digital world:

Deniz has been busy talking to Aida Baghernejad and Leonie Herweg for two new Fellow Reader interviews, and chances are your reading list will be quite a bit longer afterwards.

Leonie Herweg, one of the curators of Manifesta 16, co-founder of the project space GROTTO and Café Tiergarten, where our Early Morning Edition of Reading Room will take place, shares plenty of inspiration for anyone drawn to art(y) books and carefully built collections.

In our second Fellow Reader interview, Aida Baghernejad takes us into her book cosmos. As a longtime supporter of Reading Room and the author of the piece “Buying books and reading books are two different hobbies,” we’re very happy to now also feature the award-winning journalist and writer as a Fellow Reader.

And speaking of ever-growing reading lists: Community Reads is back, featuring the books our community has been reading and loving.

Last but not least, we’re introducing a new series called Why We Read Together, which looks at the many different forms book clubs can take. It feels like book clubs have been having a moment for a while now, and what we find especially interesting is how many different ways there are to share the experience of reading. Reading Room itself grew out of the desire to read together, so we’re naturally curious about other formats that bring people and their reading interests together.

For the first edition, Shirley speaks with Eva Pramschüfer about her digital book club Cult Classics:

We hope you enjoy reading this edition!

— Deniz, Shirley & Teresa

Update: Our RSVP list is already full. Thank you so much for your interest! If we receive a significant number of cancellations before the event, we may reopen the list and share an update on Instagram.

We’re excited to invite you to a special Morning Edition of Reading Room! On Sunday, May 17, we’ll gather bright and early at Café Tiergarten for a calm and cozy start to the day.

Doors open at 8:30 am, so arrive early enough to find a spot, grab a coffee or tea, and settle into the beautiful space inside – and hopefully also outside on the lovely terrace. After a brief intro, we’ll begin our silent reading session at 9:00 am. From 10:00 am onward, the space will open up to the public, gently transitioning into a more social atmosphere. You’re welcome to continue reading at your own pace, chat with neighbors or enjoy Café Tiergarten’s fresh breakfast, which will be served from 10:00 am.

Newsletter subscribers receive first access to reserve a spot. If spaces remain, we’ll share the RSVP link on Instagram afterward.

RSVP here

We’re looking forward to a peaceful Sunday morning of reading together!

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New to Reading Room? Here’s how it works:

• Bring the book you’re currently reading or a favorite you’d like to revisit.

• Then, settle in for a peaceful, one-hour silent reading session.

• Share your favorite lines or insights with a neighbor – or simply keep reading.

• All the while, enjoy a drink from the bar and let yourself be guided by an ambient set curated especially for the morning.

Reading Room #10

🗓 Sunday, May 17, 2026
Doors: 8:30 am
Start: 9:00 am

📍Café Tiergarten
Altonaer Str. 3, 10557 Berlin

**As spots are limited, please let us know by email if your plans change after you RSVP, so we can offer your spot to someone else.

Aida’s name might already be familiar to you – not only because of her wide-ranging and thoughtful work across all things culture, but also through her previous contributions to our Reading Room newsletter and her regular presence at our events.

If you haven’t read her latest text yet, we highly recommend it: It’s her reflection on unread book stacks, the temptations of buying, and the magic of bookstores: “Buying books and reading books are two different hobbies.”

Aida Baghernejad is an award-winning freelance journalist who writes and speaks about culture and gastronomy, among other topics. You can follow her on Substack or Instagram.

Hi Aida, what are you currently reading?

Aida Baghernejad: I’m currently reading several things at once – I’m still stuck with Manon Garcia's Mit Männern Leben about the Pelicot case, but also just started a new novel that’s been in my tbr-stack for years: Colm Tóibín's The Magician. I interviewed Tóibín years ago for a podcast I used to co-host, and I started reading the novel then but never really read it. Now is the time! Also, I’ve decided I need to properly engage with Gramsci in this time of monsters, not only the bits and pieces I read from the prison notebooks during my studies, so I bought an introduction to Gramsci. It’s never too late, right? Once I’m through with that, it may be the time to order the complete edition – which is ten books in total. Will it ever happen? Let’s see.

As someone who follows your work (and your Goodreads profile), I know you not only write but also read A LOT(!). How do you balance reading for work and for pleasure? Do you have any specific reading habits or routines?

Aida: Not at all, I am an agent of chaos and if you ask me, I feel like I read way too little. I had a good run in January with a book per week, but I fell off in February and March. But what helps is taking public transport a lot – I read quite a bit on the U-Bahn, and if you can focus on a book on public transport, you know it’s a good one as it can keep your attention despite all the insanities going on around you. Aaaaand I’m not alone in that opinion, I recently saw a video where a NYT literature editor said the same, he actually takes every book he reviews on the subway! I also mostly gave up on reading anything over 450 pages, and prefer anything under 300, maybe even 200 pages. I used to LOVE reading fat, thick, juicy books, but that’s not happening anymore with my attention span and the endless obligations of grown up life. And I have learned to allow myself reading during work hours – especially if it’s something I read for work. I’m quite strict with myself so that was a very conscious decision that took a lot of self-convincing.

Your work as a journalist and critic spans literature, but also music, film, and food. How do you stay up to date across so many cultural areas? Are there any sources, newsletters, or people you particularly recommend following?

Aida: Honestly, I really struggle with keeping up to date, even though I spend too much time on social media! Especially with music, which is my main beat, I get a lot delivered to my inbox and I visit quite a few more or less cutting edge festivals and showcases. Same applies to the other beats, to a little and sometimes substantially lesser degrees. Apart from other media outlets (I have a few subscriptions to national and international media), I have a few favourite podcasts, newsletters, and social media accounts that I follow to stay in the loop, but truth be told: when things get overwhelming, they don’t really help, either.

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Is there a book, author or journalist who inspired you to become a writer or who (significantly) influenced your writing?

Aida: It’s quite cliché, but as a young reader and budding writer, I was quite obviously inspired by gonzo writers like Hunter S. Thompson. But I've emancipated from that very male and macho centered stuff, I’m not very interested in that anymore, neither the focus on the ego, nor the macho-esque performance of transgression. But I can’t deny, it was quite influential for me when I was younger and maybe there’s still some traces in my writing. Also, I remember how reading earlier German language writers, such as the Tucholsky or Kisch, and their (sometimes more, sometimes less) politically engaged writings I found really inspiring as a nerdy teen, and I think that’s really left an impact. I mourn that it took me a long while to find female role models..

If you could recommend one book for everyone to read right now, which one would it be and why?

Aida: Right now and always, it’s Heinrich Mann’s Der Untertan, which has been translated into English under a few different titles, The Loyal Subject, Man of Straw, or The Patrioteer. It’s hilarious and one of my favourite novels ever, but it’s also the most concise analysis of the German psyche – or any national psyche, to be honest. I think it’s no overstatement to say that this is one of the books that’s shaped me into who I am and who I want to be. Which is everything but a loyal subject, but a critical, anti-authoritarian soul.

Can you identify current trends in literature regarding the state of the world from a sociopolitical perspective?

Aida: I think we’re seeing a lot of escapism, which is completely understandable – look at the state of the world! But I think even writings that aren’t necessarily escapist – take last year’s shooting star Perfection – are read as such. Simultaneously, I keep hearing that non-fiction is having a really hard time, at least in Germany, which ties in with the same general vibe. I get it, but escapism can be a slippery slope towards disengaging from the world.

What’s next on your reading stack?

Aida: Finally reading Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad – I never read it and on my recent trip to NYC, I finally picked it up, along with Zoe Dubno's Happiness and Love. I finished Happiness and Love during my trip (I love an unreliable female narrator being ghastly to others, think The Coin, The Guest, My Year of Rest and Relaxation). Egan’s book might be next. If I don’t spontaneously decide to pick up something else on a whim – my tbr-stack is taller than I am, and every visit to a bookshop is nothing short of dangerous for me!

Thanks so much for your thoughts and recommendations, dear Aida!

— Deniz

For Eva Pramschüfer, reading has never been a solitary act. It is something to be shared, discussed, and lived alongside others. Whether through her journalistic work, social media, or now her newly published book. Based in Munich, she works as a writer and journalist for publications including Süddeutsche Zeitung and Condé Nast, covering culture, fashion, and pop.

Alongside her editorial work, she has built a growing online readership, sharing her enthusiasm for books with tens of thousands of followers across platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. In 2025, she launched her digital book club Cult Classics, where she extends this practice into a more collective space and where she translates books into a language that resonates with a new generation of readers. A digital space that reimagines reading as a shared, ongoing conversation, beyond the limits of physical rooms.

Eva just published her debut novel Weißer Sommer (rowohlt Verlag) a few days ago, a coming-of-age love story that explores intimacy and the fragile balance between holding on and letting go.

With Eva, we talked about book clubs and why reading rarely stays a solitary act. Welcome to our new Why We Read Together series on book clubs!

What are you currently reading?

Eva Pramschüfer: I'm reading Sula by Toni Morrison – my very first Morrison, and I am completely in love. I don't know why it took me this long.

Do you remember your first “social reading” moment – a book you felt you absolutely had to talk about with other people?

Eva: How far do we want to go back? If I'm being honest, it was probably Twilight – and yes, I was Team Edward, obviously. But once I got older and fell deeper into the classics, it was Lolita by Nabokov that I genuinely couldn't stop thinking or talking about. It's the kind of book that demands to be discussed, because it unsettles you in ways that are hard to process alone.

In October 2025 you launched your digital book club Cult Classics. What sparked the idea to discuss literature online rather than in a traditional, in-person setting?

Eva: The core idea was always about being communal in the truest sense – meaning anyone, anywhere, can join. I love the idea of a traditional book club, and honestly, I'd love to do that in person one day too. But going digital removes so many barriers. You don't have to live in the same city, you don't have to know the right people, you just have to love books. That felt more exciting to me.

What criteria do you use when selecting titles for the book club so they actually spark discussion, rather than just being enjoyable reads?

Eva: I ask myself a lot of questions before choosing a book, but a few always come up: What did this author move forward – how did they push boundaries? What was genuinely brave about this book? And most importantly: will it leave the reader slightly changed? Whether that means it challenged a long-held view, expanded their empathy, or just cracked something open in them. A great book club read doesn’t have to be comfortable – it has to be alive.

Was there ever a book where the reactions from your community genuinely surprised you?

Eva: All the time, honestly. I learn just as much from the Cult Classics readers as I hope they do from me – maybe more. North Woods by Daniel Mason sparked the biggest and most unexpected discussion we've ever had, and I loved every moment of it. When a book takes people somewhere you didn't anticipate, that's when book clubs feel genuinely magical.

What role do book clubs play today, both offline and online? Could they also be seen as a new form of literary criticism?

Eva: I think book clubs – especially online ones – are quietly becoming one of the most democratic forms of literary engagement we have. Traditional criticism has often lived in academic journals or broadsheet columns, written by a relatively small group of voices. Book clubs, by contrast, bring in readers from completely different backgrounds, life experiences, and perspectives. That plurality is incredibly valuable. So yes, I do think there's something genuinely critical happening in these spaces – it just looks different. It's messier, more emotional, more personal. But that doesn't make it less rigorous. In many ways, it makes it more honest I think.

In traditional book clubs maybe ten people discuss a book. On platforms like TikTok or YouTube it can be thousands. Does this scale change the nature of the discussion?

Eva: It absolutely does – and in ways that are both exciting and worth being thoughtful about. When you have thousands of people responding to a book, you get this incredible diversity of readings and interpretations that a small group simply can't produce. But scale also means you lose some of the intimacy and depth that makes a ten-person conversation so rich. I think the best online book communities find ways to hold both – to have the reach of a platform while still creating spaces where people feel safe enough to share a genuinely personal reaction, not just a hot take.

How do you think our experience of books changes when reading becomes a shared, communal activity?

Eva: You read more carefully. You're more thorough, more attentive, because you know you'll be bringing it somewhere – to a conversation, to a community. But beyond that, it transforms what a book is. It stops being purely an act of introspection and becomes a tool for connection. You get excited not just about what you thought, but about what someone else might have seen that you missed entirely. Reading alone is a private revelation; reading together turns it into something shared – and I think that's one of the most beautiful things literature can do.

Thank you so much, Eva!

— Shirley

Leonie Herweg is one of the curators of the biennial Manifesta 16, co-founder of the project space GROTTO, as well as Café Tiergarten in Berlin’s Hansaviertel. With the small exhibition vitrine in the Schwedenhaus on Altonaer Straße, GROTTO creates a space where contemporary art connects directly with the local community. Texts, art publications, and reading are central to Leonie’s work as many projects begin with a book or an idea from literature. For our newsletter, we asked her about her reading habits and current projects.

Since our next Reading Room event will be hosted at the beautiful Café Tiergarten (date and details here), we thought it was the perfect moment to introduce Leonie as one of our fellow readers.

Welcome to Reading Room, Leonie!

What are you currently reading, or which books are on your bedside table?

Leonie Herweg: I’m currently finishing Malina by Ingeborg Bachmann, which sits on a slightly chaotic stack on my bedside table alongside Annie Ernaux & Marc Marie’s The Use of Photography, George Perec’s Life A User’s Manual, Klaus Nomi’s biography and a book on the architecture of churches.

What inspired you to start GROTTO?

Leonie: Making up my own rules of the game.

Is there a book (or a few books) that has stayed with you for a long time or inspired your curatorial work?

Leonie: Lee Lozano’s notebooks from 1967-70, in facsimile form, which release an almost physical sensation of exhilaration and somehow urgency every time I pick them up to read a few pages. She was also extremely funny. Kirsty Bell’s The Undercurrents for she is able to write about Berlin and the one-ness experience of our lives as a universally shared thread that connects us all. I would have probably already moved away a long time ago, if it weren’t for that book. Also everything that Ghislaine Leung says and writes.

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GROTTO is more than an exhibition space. Since the beginning, readings, book launches, and even a yearly art book fair (GROTTO BOOKS) are as much part of your programming as putting on shows with artists. What role do spaces like this play for you, especially in times of change or uncertainty?

Leonie: It’s like this one famous painting by Sigmar Polke from 1969, which is white with only the right top corner painted black. It’s titled “Höhere Wesen befahlen: rechte obere Ecke schwarz malen!” (eng. Higher Beings Commanded: Paint the Upper Right Corner Black!) And that’s pretty much how I feel about the spaces I create: I just have to do it.

If you could recommend just one book for everyone to read, which would it be?

Leonie: A book on the social life of animals by biologist and philosopher Cord Riechelmann with photographs by Rosemarie Trockel called Leichtes Unbehagen – Von Menschen und anderen Tieren. I love animals!

What’s your favourite place to read? Can you sometimes be spotted reading at Café Tiergarten? :)

Leonie: Never at Café Tiergarten (unfortunately!). I love the London tube and the sofa at my grandparents.

We can’t wait for our Reading Room session in May at the beautiful Café Tiergarten! <3 Thanks so much for joining us and sharing your inspiring thoughts and book tips, dear Leonie!

— Deniz

Title: When I Sing, Mountains Dance
Author: Irene Solà
Publisher: Granta Publications

Original synopsis: 'When Domenec – mountain-dweller, father, poet, dreamer – dies suddenly, struck by lightning, he leaves behind two small children, Mia and Hilari, to grow up wild among the looming summits of the Pyrenees and the ghosts of the Spanish civil war. But then Hilari dies too, and his sister is forced to face life’s struggles and joys alone. As the years tumble by, the inhabitants of the mountain – human, animal and other – come together in a chorus of voices to bear witness to the sorrows of one family, and to the savage beauty of the landscape.’

Shot out at Zabriskie where my boyfriend bought it for me, an incredible well written book, complex storytelling that brings your mind into the mountains and the stories of the people living there. I loved it and the characters are complex and so interesting.

— Elenia Beretta

Title: So forsch, so furchtlos / Panza de burro
Author: Andrea Abreu
Publisher: Kiepenheuer & Witsch

Deutsch
Zwei Mädchen, irgendwo zwischen Kind sein und schon längst nicht mehr. Sie reden über Körper, als wären sie etwas Fremdes. Etwas, das man kontrollieren muss. Wegmachen. Dünn machen. Schön machen. Und gleichzeitig ist da diese Nähe der beiden, die fast zu viel ist. Dieses Aneinanderkleben.

Isora ist das Zentrum der Geschichte. Die andere kreist um sie herum, wie etwas, das nicht weiß, ob es bleiben oder verschwinden will. Bewunderung, die schon weh tut. Und draußen: diese Insel, die nicht für sie gemacht ist.
Touristen unten am Meer. Sie oben, festhängend zwischen Staub, Beton und Träumen von Autos, die sie da runterbringen könnten.

Es passiert eigentlich nichts.
Und gleichzeitig passiert alles.

Der Text stolpert, schiebt sich, wird plötzlich hart, dann wieder weich. Manchmal will man ihn weglegen. Wegen der Wörter. Wegen der Körper. Wegen dieser Direktheit. Und weil man sich in den Sätzen wiedererkennt.
Aber genau darin liegt die Besonderheit des Buches.

English
Two girls, somewhere between still being children and already far beyond it. They talk about bodies as if they were something foreign. Something that has to be controlled. Erased. Made thin. Made beautiful. And at the same time, there is this closeness between them that is almost too much. This clinging to one another.

Isora is the center of the story. The other one circles around her, like something that doesn’t know whether it wants to stay or disappear. An admiration that already hurts.
And outside: this island that wasn’t made for them.
Tourists down by the sea. Them up above, stuck between dust, concrete, and dreams of cars that could take them down there.

Nothing really happens.
And at the same time, everything does.

The text stumbles, pushes forward, suddenly turns hard, then soft again. Sometimes you want to put it aside. Because of the words. Because of the bodies. Because of that directness. And because you recognize yourself in the sentences.
But that is exactly where the book’s uniqueness lies.

— Janna Bjoern

Title: Klara And The Sun
Author: Kazuo Ishiguro
Publisher: Faber & Faber

I really recommend Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. It’s very relevant to the times we’re living in collectively as humans. It’s beautifully written and incites you to think about the complex topic of consciousness in robots. It’s the kind of book you don’t want to put down but also its depth makes you cry.

— Natalia Quintana

Title: Affenliebe
Author: Lara Rüter
Publisher: Hanser Literaturverlag

Deutsch
„Ich kann natürlich das damals affenmäßig Gefühlte heute nur mit Menschenworten nachzeichnen“, verlautet der Menschenaffe Rotpeter in Franz Kafkas Parabel Bericht für eine Akademie, in der er über seine Menschwerdung reflektiert. Die Leipziger Lyrikerin Lara Rüter, die fünf Jahre im Primatenforschungsinstitut gearbeitet und Verhaltensstudien mit Menschenaffen durchgeführt hat, stellt das Zitat ihrer eigenen literarischen Annäherung Affenliebe voran. Rüter geht im Alltag mit den Menschenaffen der Frage nach, was es bedeutet, Affe zu sein und Mensch. Dafür bringt sie die Beobachtungen im Affengehege mit ihrer eigenen Biografie zusammen und erzählt sich – vom Kuckucksvater über die im sterben liegende Mutter bis hin zum Schwangerschaftsabbruch – an ihren Affen entlang. Der hybride, poetisch erzählende Text entzieht sich jedweder Gattungszuordnung: Er sucht, versucht und untersucht, während er sich affenmäßig an wimmelnden Gedichtzitaten, Wissenschaftsfragen, philosophischen Überlegungen, Listen, Songtexten, Filmzitaten und Kunstbetrachtungen entlanghangelt, und schafft, dabei ebenso persönlich wie universell verbindend zu sein.

English
“I can, of course, only reconstruct today, in human words, what I once felt in an ape-like way,” declares the ape Rotpeter in Franz Kafka’s parable Bericht für eine Akademie (A Report to an Academy), in which he reflects on his becoming human. The Leipzig poet Lara Rüter, who spent five years working at a primate research institute and conducted behavioral studies with great apes, places this quote at the beginning of her own literary approach, Affenliebe.

In her everyday life with the apes, Rüter pursues the question of what it means to be an ape and to be human. To do so, she weaves together observations from the enclosure with her own biography, narrating herself – through the cuckoo father, the dying mother, all the way to an abortion – alongside her apes.

The hybrid text, told in a poetic voice, resists any clear genre classification: it searches, attempts, and examines, while moving in an almost ape-like manner along a teeming web of poetry quotations, scientific inquiries, philosophical reflections, lists, song lyrics, film quotes, and considerations of art – and in doing so, manages to be as personal as it is universally connective.

— Marielle Kreienborg

Title: The Hacienda: How Not to Run a Club
Author: Peter Hook
Publisher: Simon & Schuster (UK)

I want to recommend the book that I am about to finish at the moment: The Hacienda: How Not to Run a Club by Peter Hook.

Even if you had no idea about this club, if you are into music and crazy stories — an amazing read. It is insane but somehow also so predictable all that happened. I have to laugh out loud reading this book. You follow what happened year by year as well as reading which legends played there year by year.

— Yonca Çopuroğlu

Title: Die Klavierspielerin / The Piano Teacher
Author: Elfriede Jelinek
Publisher: Rowohlt Verlag

While harsh in expression, The Piano Teacher by Elfriede Jelinek usurps normative ideas of beauty, ruthlessly shredding them to create a world of its own. Simultaneously, the reader is shrouded in the feeling of being somewhere beyond our existing reality. Jelinek’s unique use of alienated idioms unfolds previous realms into an unworn understanding of language. Not only does the rhetorical excellence distinguish the narration, but also the life of the piano teacher Erika Kohut. Living together with her mother, sacrificing everything in the name of classical music, she encounters a young student named Walter Klemmer, who emerges and uncovers an once hidden side of his piano teacher.

In the end, what truly happens when reading this one-of-a-kind novel is the resurrection of your own self. Not only does it question language in general, but the comprehension of authority, family, discipline, habits and desire. Nevertheless, the interplay of insensibility and emotions, as well as jealousy and love, refers to the ongoing challenges of life; this book sustainably affects and influences its readers.

— Dominik Mörmann

Dear fellow readers,

We’re back in your inbox sooner than expected. We simply couldn’t wait to share a few things with you: a new Fellow Readers interview, a small selection of our favorite bookshops in Berlin, and some impressions from our recent event with Paleworks.

Let’s dive right in:

On February 24, we hosted a special event together with Paleworks at the Deutsches Design Museum, and we’re still thinking back on what turned out to be a truly special evening shaped by books, design, and sound by Radio Hack, set within the current Dieter Rams exhibition. To those of you who joined us, we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

Here are a few impressions from the evening:

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Berlin recently welcomed a new bookshop dedicated to English-language books, Chapters, and we were lucky enough to speak with its founder for another edition of Fellow Readers: Sharmaine Lovegrove. Sharmaine has spent many years working across publishing and literary communities, creating platforms for voices often excluded from the mainstream. Having followed her work at the publishing brand Dialogue for some time, we’re especially excited to dive into her book cosmos, from her current reads to the unifying power of books.

Read the interview here:

And while we’re on the subject of Berlin bookshops, Shirley shares her personal selection of favorite bookstores across the city. Living in Berlin, we’re incredibly lucky to have such a wide variety of wonderful bookshops, and this is a small selection of places she particularly loves.

We hope you enjoy reading this edition!

— Deniz, Shirley & Teresa

Since November, Berlin has been home to a new independent bookshop: Chapters brings global voices right to the heart of Moabit, through its carefully curated selection of English-language books and a vibrant program of events.

Behind Chapters is Sharmaine Lovegrove. Founder and former publisher at Dialogue Books, literary agent at the International Creative Agency, and co-founder of the Caribbean literary magazine, PREE, Sharmaine has spent years working across publishing and literary communities, building spaces for voices often excluded from the mainstream.

“It is a place where readers feel held, stimulated and invited to stay awhile,” Sharmaine and her team say about Chapters, describing their curation as guided by “editorial rigour, cultural curiosity and a belief in literature as a connector.” A belief that deeply resonates with us at Reading Room.

In this edition of Fellow Readers, we are delighted to share a glimpse into Sharmaine Lovegrove’s literary world, as a reader, editor, and community builder. We hope you enjoy the interview!

Hi Sharmaine, what are you currently reading?

Sharmaine: I’m usually reading a few things at once, which is an occupational hazard. At the moment, I’m reading a few novels for consideration, alongside Half His Age by Jeanette McCurdy. My choices are often shaped by curiosity, but also by craft. I’m always drawn to how a writer handles voice, structure, and emotional honesty. Even after many years in publishing, that remains endlessly interesting to me.

Your journey from launching Dialogue Books to opening Chapters in Berlin spans publishing, bookselling, literary agency work, and community building. Have your experiences with Dialogue shaped the vision of Chapters?

Sharmaine: Very much so. Dialogue was built around the idea that stories shape how we see the world and each other. Chapters grew from a related impulse, but expressed spatially rather than editorially. With Dialogue, I was asking what voices and perspectives needed more room in publishing. With Chapters, I’m asking what kind of bookshop, and what kind of cultural space, feels necessary now. Both are rooted in curiosity, access, and conversation.

When you curate the shelves at Chapters today, what guides your choices?

Sharmaine: Curation for me is built on a very long relationship with books. I’ve been working in bookshops since I was sixteen, and Chapters is the third space I’ve owned, so my approach is shaped by more than twenty years of working closely with books, readers, and authors. It’s a mixture of instinct, experience, and a sense of balance, placing contemporary alongside classic, and discovery alongside familiarity. Underpinning all of it is a lifelong love of literature and a belief that a bookshop should feel both surprising and deeply considered.

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In our Fellow Readers series, we’re always interested in the relationship between reading and the connections it can create between people. Can you recall a moment (at Chapters or earlier) when a book sparked a conversation or a connection that stayed with you?

Sharmaine: One of the most rewarding aspects of Chapters has been watching strangers begin talking to each other. Sometimes it’s over a novel they both love, sometimes over a title one person is hesitant about. Those small, unplanned exchanges, a recommendation, a shared memory, a debate, are often more meaningful than the larger programmed events. They remind me that bookshops are, at heart, social spaces shaped by ideas.

Are there certain themes, voices, or questions that you find yourself returning to again and again as a reader?

Sharmaine: I’m consistently drawn to books that explore identity, power, intimacy, and the quiet complexities of human relationships. I’m interested in writing that shifts perspective or unsettles certainty. I tend to gravitate toward work that leaves a residue, something that lingers rather than resolves too neatly.

Dear Sharmaine, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and insights with us.

You can find Chapters at Wilsnacker Str. 60, 10559 Berlin.

Over the past few years, while reading through Dialogue’s catalogue, I’ve discovered many books that have stayed with me. I’d love to close this post by sharing a small (not sponsored) list of personal reading recommendations:
”The Mothers“ and “The Vanishing Half“ by Brit Bennett
”Here Again Now“ and “The Private Joys of Nnenna Maloney“ by Okechukwu Nzelu
”Rosewater“ by Liv Little
”You Exist Too Much“ by Zaina Arafat
”Rainbow Milk“ by Paul Mendez

— Teresa

On February 24, we hosted the very first Special Edition of Reading Room, and we honestly couldn’t be happier with how the evening turned out. This was truly a night dedicated to slowing down, reading together, and celebrating design.

Together with Paleworks, we transformed the Deutsches Design Museum into a space where design met books, accompanied by smooth jazz tunes from RadioHack. It was our first collaboration, and we’re so grateful for the trust, the energy, and the seamless teamwork. Thank you Yağmur (read her Fellow Readers interview here), Ozan, and Bujar for making this evening so memorable.

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Spending the night in the stunning rooms of the museum, surrounded by the current exhibition on Dieter Rams, made it even more meaningful. We learned about Rams’ design, discovered Paleworks’ beautiful new trays, shared an hour of collective reading, chatted and enjoyed delicious drinks by BOUCHE alongside tasty bites from Cravers. Thanks again for sponsoring the evening and keeping us all fueled throughout the night.

The museum’s carpet meant everyone slipped off their shoes, so we read in socks, sitting and lying on the floor – easily one of the coziest details of the evening. Surrounded by iconic design pieces, reading somehow felt even more special.

Marie Staggat accompanied us throughout the evening and captured it all so beautifully. We’re incredibly grateful to have had such a talented photographer document our event. Thank you for your energy, your time, and your amazing eye.

And thank you to everyone who joined us! We’re already looking forward to the next (special) editions ✨

Photos: Marie Staggat