Christine Nöstlinger's new vernacular poems are profound, pithy and full of darkly humorous overtones. They tell of hopes and fears, of avarice and of dealing with old age. The work-shy "Jasmin from stairway four" is a drain on her husband's pocket, "West Street Station Rudi" observes life's little and big ladies on the station platform every day, quiet Mr Meier only reveals his secret fantasies of violence to his goldfish – is that reason to call the police? The verses gathered from Christine Nöstlinger's estate provide a nuanced look at life by focusing on the margins of society. A must for all friends of Viennese vernacular poetry and Nöstlinger fans.

Christine Nöstlinger tells a story – neither the one about the grumpy Cucumber King, nor the one about Franz who looks like a girl. Here we find out about her own life: surviving the war in bomb shelters as a child; starting her first confession with a lie; learning about human nature on her kick scooter; loosing a borrowed bra during dance classes and holding her ground in a group of men as an art student. The great author of children’s and young adult literature, journalist, poet and writer tells us about marriages, daughters and affairs. We learn about her success, angry attacks by teachers and ludicrous political correctness sheriffs. She also questions the importance of aging gracefully.

Love is blind – and that’s why it is so beautiful to be in love. It’s easy to be forgiving when you don’t see further than the rim of love’s rose-colored glasses or the slices of cucumber you put on your eyes to keep love fresh. Still, of course, the world behind those glasses is rough and flawed, full of challenges and obstacles. Losing sight of that will soon leave you stumbling through your life with housework and relationships, husband and kids. Christine Nöstlinger tells the stories of such a life like no other, stories she stumbled across herself, and she does so in a clear-sighted, trenchant, ironic but always loving way.