Na Valentijn – After Valentine:


"Na Valentijn is filled with numerous unforgettable scenes. (...) Na Valentijn is a remarkable debut, and Esther J. Ending is an author to watch closely." – Het Parool


"Ending manages to strike the right tone in her intense debut novel. (...) Esther J. Ending has talent, you can see that right away." – Ingrid Hoogervorst, De Telegraaf


"Na Valentijn is the kind of book you read in one breath." – De Gelderlander


"The story flows naturally towards the dramatic climax." – Trouw


"A strong, shocking story." – Flair


"Surprisingly lighthearted and humorous debut." – Elle


"Debut novel Na Valentijn is a smash hit." – Havana

 

Kind van Ibiza – Ibiza’s Child (also published as Een Eigen Eiland):


"A magnificent novel born from the soul of Ibiza." – Thomas Rosenboom


“A revealing portrait of the darker sides of Ibiza, courageously depicted.” – Jan Cremer


"Deeply moving and powerful. A must-read for Ibiza lovers." – Saskia Noort


"What a spectacular book!" – Bart Chabot


"I read her new book in one sitting. This is something special, and utterly painful..." – Geerten Meijssing


"Ending describes the deeper layers of loneliness fantastically." – philosopher Jan Bor


“Read Esther J. Ending, Een eigen eiland. A novel driven by gut feelings—poignant and authentic, about a youth filled with as much destruction and violence as it is brimming with vitality.” – Tros Nieuwsshow

 

"An infectious novel about a troubled love..." – Linda Magazine


"Just like in her first two novels, Ending's writing style in Een eigen eiland is pleasantly smooth. You naturally fall into the 'flow'. Without realizing it, you are drawn into the whirlpool of the protagonist. The small elements of nature are well-balanced. Just the right amount of beautiful words. As a writer, Ending has grown once again." – Literatuurplein


"Een eigen eiland is a well-written, easy-to-read, and atmospheric book, though far from cheerful. The story stays close to reality; implausible or overly elaborate sentences are carefully avoided. The well-trodden party island of Ibiza is given a fresh perspective, as Ending shows the reader the true Ibiza: the rural fincas, dusty dirt roads, silent pine forests, and ancient olive trees." – Recensieweb, Monique van Gaal


"In conclusion, Een eigen eiland is a captivating and immersive novel about a young woman searching for love in a world full of drugs, lies, and despair." – Hebban, Fenna Minke


"Esther J. Ending paints a credible picture of the beautiful, godless island in her third novel, as idyllic as it is corrupt [...] A novel with a clear narrative arc, part thriller, part love story. Both halves slowly but inevitably converge [...] Ending is at her best when describing the island's beauty and madness." – Het Parool


"Een eigen eiland is a brilliantly written novel that, in essence, reveals both sides of the sea: wild and untamable in the events, but stable, strong, and solid in the writing. Ending gently guides you along, letting you listen to the lapping of the tides, but also the occasional clap of thunder. This makes it one of those rare, well-crafted books in a light coming-of-age genre. With Ending's local knowledge, it never becomes shallow, predictable, or overly sweet. The loss of ideals is palpable throughout the book, but it never becomes pathetic. An absolute must-read." – Cutting Edge


"A gripping novel that takes you back to an Ibiza of 1987, where all aspects of Sodom and Gomorrah come into play." – Ibiza Vandaag


Stille Mensen – Silent People:

 

Masterful are the dialogues where reality twists into a grotesque distortion


The Wielingen, the Groote Keijser, Vrankrijk—these names still resonate in Amsterdam's squatting history. Esther J. Ending (b. 1972), who won the Debut Prize for her debut novel Na Valentijn in 2004, set her second novel Stille mensen in a massive squatted building, just like the Wielingen, a former orphanage. She named it the ominous Pandemonium.


The novel introduces us to Nicky, who runs away from home due to her strained relationship with her overly refined grandmother. She drifts, sleeping in cinemas, until she meets Verena. Verena takes Nicky under her wing and introduces her to Pandemonium. There, Nicky encounters diverse groups, including hippies, punks, students, ultras, and philosophers, each with their own corridors and customs.


A common goal unites them: to drive out a group of so-called junkies. The methods employed range from gossip and intrigue to outright murder. At the heart of the novel, Ending passionately explores how mistrust is fueled by ignorance. She delves into how easily antipathy can develop towards those one doesn’t know, and even more so, how simple it is to hate and wish to kill someone. Ending excels here: through masterful dialogues, she shows how half-truths are twisted and echoed until all that's left of reality is a grotesque distortion.


Thematically, Stille mensen carries a universal message: the desire to exclude others is timeless. The novel raises the question of how the many residents of Pandemonium can identify each other at a party. Who belongs to us and who does not? The plan is to design a badge that everyone must wear—except for the junkies, who will get a different emblem. The thought of the yellow Star of David looms as Ending skims across history in a single line. ‘Can’t we make those damn junkies tattoo that emblem on their foreheads?’, someone wonders.


Is Stille mensen all about seriousness? Not entirely. The discussions between residents are presented in a distinct typography on the bulletin board, leading to amusing snippets, including reports of theft. ‘Alarm! Someone has stolen our pufferfish! It was in the hallway while we were cleaning its aquarium. We are not amused! If anything has happened to our pufferfish, we will definitely track down the culprit, and they will be a thousand times deader than a can of tuna!’


The height of wit is reached with this punctuation-free note: ‘FOR SALE WANTED FENDER BASS GUITAR PREFERABLY WHITE CONTACT LOU BALJON T6 THE HIPPIES.’

Lou Baljon? What a surprise! Isn’t he the protagonist in Thomas Rosenboom’s recently published novel De rode loper? Remarkable. Are there more fictional characters leading double lives? – De Volkskrant


Nothing is as it Seems


"For a young, homeless girl, cinemas are a great place to spend the night; you just need to be patient. [...] 'Miss,' a man’s voice says. 'Come on now. You need to wake up.' It’s the doorman nudging me awake. [...] 'I have to write an article for the newspaper tomorrow,' I invent. 'About this film.'"


The opening scene of Stille mensen by Esther J. Ending immediately sets the tone. The advantage of writing in the first person present tense is that the reader is instantly drawn into the story, experiencing the 'road trip' that every book essentially is in real-time. The downside is that people often associate the protagonist with the author. Asked about it, Ending, like her protagonist Nicky, spent some time in a squatted building, but that's where the comparison ends. It’s clear that Ending knows her subject, though she could have just as easily chosen a prison, a hospital, or an old folks' home as her setting. The novel explores the interaction between people 'condemned to each other' and, in this particular case—making the squatting scene apt—what remains of the idealism of the 1980s youth.


Various experiments have been conducted with groups of people, respectable citizens known for their peaceful nature. They were confined to a complex where one half played the role of guards and the other half were prisoners. Almost all 'guards' were capable of cruelty, and 'prisoners' manipulated and informed on each other. Even when roles were reversed, even the mildest individuals were, to their own surprise, capable of the most dreadful acts. Power seems to corrupt, no matter what.


Nicky, with her blonde ringlets, is pleased to be assigned a room in the squatted building called Pandemonium. She, like most of the residents, comes from a wealthy, broken family. She fled from her somewhat pretentious wealthy grandmother who raised her. 'The street is a predator' for this intelligent but also naïve girl, born as Nicasia. The stunning Verena picks her up at the cinema, and her dominant boyfriend Harm is more or less the boss in the enormous former orphanage (sic!) that has been squatted. The wings are divided. There are punks, artists, philosophers, hippies, and junkies living there, who can hardly tolerate each other.


Ending creates exactly the right claustrophobic atmosphere. Yes, she amplifies the stereotypes, but through her fluid style and chosen perspective, the various characters come to life. They are idealists. They are determined to do things differently than their parents. They rebel against the previous generation but end up in the same pitfalls: rules, house meetings, food cards, regulations, committees. To quote an ironic notice from the bulletin board in Pandemonium: ‘Let’s cure the ills of our democracy with even more democracy.’


Stille mensen is a true-to-life portrayal of the no-future generation, occasionally enlivened with striking typography. A recognizable snapshot of the era, with well-measured humour and suspense. Nothing is as it seems. Ending has a beautiful twist at the end. A letter left behind causes the book to take a turn. After a promising debut and a very successful follow-up—difficult as the second novel is for everyone—Nicky concludes that those who are unique are lonely. The individual almost always loses to the group. Her late grandfather had warned her: 'Everyone is eventually rejected, in love, at work, or elsewhere; if you kept that in mind, he said, the blow would be less severe.' – Guus Bauer