Trans King of Saxony Goes Cruising

What if Saxony, after the collapse of the GDR, had become an independent kingdom rather than part of the Federal Republic? And what if today, more than thirty years later, a young trans king stood at the helm of this new German monarchy? And what if this young king, named Dedo II, with a broken heart, retreated into the fitness studio assembled in the Orangery to pursue bodybuilding, so that the shoulder he leans on could grow as strong as the one he relies on? Then we’re already in the midst of the wonderfully wild and entertaining new novel by Cécil Ludwig Röski.

In 2026, literature aches for fantasy. Recently, the longlist for the German Book Prize, one of the most important—or at least one of the best-funded—literary prizes in the country, was published. As journalist Julia Hubernagel already noted in the taz, the potential prize contenders on this list tend to share a very narrow range of topics. They mainly revolve around exploring homeland and family history, repeatedly about war and dictatorship. A lot of past, and above all realism.

The Fiction Is Not Trendy

Of course, the realistic, the naturalistic, isn’t inherently wrong. Yet if the aim is always to achieve as close to realism, authenticity, and historical accuracy as possible, that comes at the expense of the most debatably essential function of literature: fiction. The ability to imagine the improbable, to envision utopias, and to challenge reality in that way is what fictional storytelling thrives on. It can be read as telling that the fictional is not trendy.
The premise of “Triceps Royal” (Amazon-affiliate link), the title of Röskis’ new novel, could hardly be more timely. A fictional Saxon monarchy, ruled by a trans king, with a succession dispute including the transition itself. Yet the book isn’t praised merely for dodging today’s social realism trend. In this bizarre (royal) garb, Röskis writes an engaging blend of emotional slapstick and bench-press tenderness. Röski is a master of digressions. In the debut novel “Poussi” (2023) there was a sex dream with a dolphin—or was it with a slot machine? In the new work, the king goes cruising.

Pumping Against Heartbreak

The escapades at the Saxon court are narrated in the first person by King Dedo himself. And he is a magnificently tragic whiner full of biting irony and sticky self-pity. It is a lot of fun to listen to this bundle of misery mourn the lost love and arrive at the solution: building up arm muscles will help mend the broken heart. And then suddenly: honestly relatable. Time and again, Röschi manages to create moving moments that slip in almost stealthily beneath the gleaming wit while you read. When Dedo, in a throwaway line, melancholically recalls how a few flakes of dandruff remained on his pants after giving his ex a head massage, it lingers in the throat for a moment. Yes, when a loved one is lost, we even miss their dandruff.
Time and again, the expected clichés of heartbreak are deftly undermined. Dedo is probably too wily a figure to let himself be overwhelmed by them. The most obvious comparison for Röski’s royal romp is perhaps Isabel Waidner’s writing, where reality is repeatedly skewered by the intrusion of the absurd and the wild blend of genres and narrative strands. Röski’s queer king, however, is told with a touch more emotion. When Dedo reads in a gossip-and-rumor subreddit about his former lover allegedly being seen with a new flame, he spirals into self-doubt. From the predictable “I wasn’t manly enough for him,” in “Triceps Royal” it becomes at once funny and heartrending:

Wäre er cis, würde ich in meinen dunkelsten Stunden denken, Marfa hätte sich jetzt einen richtigen Mann geangelt, einen mit Penis. Dabei sagte er nie, ich sei ihm zu unmännlich, meine Gummipenisse unzureichend, trotzdem war ich immer wieder verunsichert.

Painful Gym Eroticism

“Triceps Royal” is told with plenty of lust and passion. At times the novel’s voice can feel a bit overplayed in its roguishness, and one half-serious punchline would have sufficed. Yet the vast majority of the time, the blend of bench-pressing and Petit Fours, testosterone and horse racing, polite etiquette and Saxon sexting simply delivers a lot of fun. Naturally, the trans‑royal spectacle also invites deeper reflection. Masculinity and intimacy, body perception and self-determination, a divided Germany and German history. And surely much more. And at the same time, it suits steamy vacation reading for late summer.
Leykam Verlag, the publisher of “Triceps Royal,” announced earlier this year that starting in 2027 no longer would they publish works of fiction. Austria’s oldest publisher is shuttering literature. A resounding decision. Still, Röskís novel serves as a fitting, dazzling finale for their fiction list.