Postcards from the edge
Mar. 2nd, 2019 04:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Book Review: Alone in Berlin, by Hans Fallada (translated by Michael Hoffmann)
Perhaps it all started with the financial crash, but certainly since the Brexit referendum, I've felt a slow slide into the normalisation of xenophobia and intolerance (which is of course described by its protagonists as "freedom of speech"). The first comments drawing a parallel with 1930s Germany seemed hysterical, but as time goes on, with centrist MPs heckled as Nazis, the Daily Mail's description of judges as Enemies of the People (Wikipedia link) and so on, you do wonder. Dystopian as the present may seem to be, this book is a reminder, and a caution, that the craziness could be so much worse.
The story, loosely based on real events, begins with the arrival in Berlin of the notification of the death of Otto and Anna Quangel's only son, during the conquest of France. Previously compliant, but no more, with the regime - under which they had themselves benefitted, with Otto finding a job after a failed business venture and four years of unemployment - they begin a lone campaign of resistance, in the form of leaving anonymous postcards with anti-war and anti-Nazi messages in buildings in the city.
They are not the only ones who are alone. In their own apartment block, the elderly Jewish Frau Rosenthal lives in fear, her husband having disappeared to Moabit prison. Others, too, must feel themselves to be alone.
For a time, this trivial project - which nonetheless counts as high treason - is successful. The Gestapo investigate but are unable to do more than monitor the distribution of cards as they are discovered across the city. Officers follow, and sometimes manufacture, false leads, in order to appear productive to their superiors. A whole subplot is devoted to the persecution of a feckless but innocent member of the underclass.
The novel is well-written and expertly translated. Fallada maintains suspense throughout; as the novel progresses, it becomes increasingly disturbing and apocalyptic, but he finds ways of maintaining the dignity of most of the characters. At some point, the Quangels' luck must surely run out, but even then, if the subsequent investigations and apparently inevitable show-trials take long enough, the ultimate outcome is not certain, and for all the desolation, it should be noted that the story is not without its uplifting moments.
Perhaps it all started with the financial crash, but certainly since the Brexit referendum, I've felt a slow slide into the normalisation of xenophobia and intolerance (which is of course described by its protagonists as "freedom of speech"). The first comments drawing a parallel with 1930s Germany seemed hysterical, but as time goes on, with centrist MPs heckled as Nazis, the Daily Mail's description of judges as Enemies of the People (Wikipedia link) and so on, you do wonder. Dystopian as the present may seem to be, this book is a reminder, and a caution, that the craziness could be so much worse.
The story, loosely based on real events, begins with the arrival in Berlin of the notification of the death of Otto and Anna Quangel's only son, during the conquest of France. Previously compliant, but no more, with the regime - under which they had themselves benefitted, with Otto finding a job after a failed business venture and four years of unemployment - they begin a lone campaign of resistance, in the form of leaving anonymous postcards with anti-war and anti-Nazi messages in buildings in the city.
They are not the only ones who are alone. In their own apartment block, the elderly Jewish Frau Rosenthal lives in fear, her husband having disappeared to Moabit prison. Others, too, must feel themselves to be alone.
For a time, this trivial project - which nonetheless counts as high treason - is successful. The Gestapo investigate but are unable to do more than monitor the distribution of cards as they are discovered across the city. Officers follow, and sometimes manufacture, false leads, in order to appear productive to their superiors. A whole subplot is devoted to the persecution of a feckless but innocent member of the underclass.
The novel is well-written and expertly translated. Fallada maintains suspense throughout; as the novel progresses, it becomes increasingly disturbing and apocalyptic, but he finds ways of maintaining the dignity of most of the characters. At some point, the Quangels' luck must surely run out, but even then, if the subsequent investigations and apparently inevitable show-trials take long enough, the ultimate outcome is not certain, and for all the desolation, it should be noted that the story is not without its uplifting moments.