The Three Women K     by Helke Sander, Translated by H Petzold Original title: Geschichten der drei Damen K Original language: German Published by Serpent's Tail Publishing Ltd Pub. Date: 1991 Format: Paperback, 192 pages Dimensions: (in inches): 7.78 x 0.46 x 4.97 ISBN: 1852421711 List Price: $13.95, £7.99 Buy online from Amazon.co.uk for £7.99 Published by Serpent's Tail Pub. Date: 1991 Format: Paperback, 142 pages List Price: £7.99 Not available for ordering

The Three Women K is the first work of fiction by Helke Sander, who is otherwise a film director.

Three Women, united by the initial of their surname as well as the fact that they have been let down by the men in their lives, spend the time between Christmas and New Year together. They pass the time by telling each other stories, which ‘had to be essentially true and should also have a funny side, those were the sole conditions’. Unsurprisingly, the stories centre around men and the various ways in which the three Ms K. have been disappointed by them. Even so, the stories are sharp and witty, and the clause about the funny side saves them from self-pity, if sometimes only just about.

There is the Ms K who is so grateful to her boyfriend for sorting out the paragraphs of her pension scheme that she nominates him as her heir in case she should unexpectedly die. Only years later she realises how the provisions are made out in the by now ex-boyfriend’s favour, leaving no money for herself until she reaches the age of eighty-five.

Another Ms K skilfully manages to avoid sleeping with her boss without offending him, but still finds herself being sacked, much later, for no apparent reason.

It is not always clear which story belongs to which Ms K, most could have been told by any of the three. This is because they mirror the experiences of many women, and indeed most of the stories have an unsettlingly familiar feel to them. It is easy to recognise bits of yourself in the stories, and comforting to know that many of our most painful experiences are shared.

‘One day he informed her kindly, albeit without a convincing reason, that he would not be forwarding her proposal. It was a waste of money to go on subsidizing the project any longer. It had no future. The whole approach was wrong, a dead-end. She defended herself, of course, and insisted that he specify the reasons. But he was in a position not to have to give reasons... In theory she had been prepared for this blow for a long time but it still hurt when it came. She had to begin again from scratch. She wondered what it was that made her go on being polite and why on earth she had to start crying on top of everything else. It was embarrassing for him. He fetched her a fresh cup of coffee ad a schnapps. He handed her a handkerchief. Dr K cordially shook hands with this rotten little arsehole, this wanker, who had even had the gall to keep her up to date on his digestive problems and tell her all about his next holiday plans before rejecting her proposal.’ p24-25