Archive for the ‘War’ Category

In The Garden of Beasts — a Review

Thursday, December 29th, 2011

All who have read about, and certainly those who experienced, World War II and  Germany’s becoming  the vicious murderer of its own people, the invader of bordering countries and a threat to all of Europe, less than twenty years after its  defeat in WW I, have wondered: how did this happen, and could it have been stopped?   Similar questions have risen in recent years following the disastrous U.S. invasion of Iraq and the scarcely less happy one of Afghanistan, as Iran is seen by western nations to be be on the cusp of nuclear weapons capability:  should countries intervene in the affairs of others?  Ever?  If so, and if diplomatic and economic interventions fail, are military strikes ever the answer?

The question wanting to be answered is:  would power applied now bring less destruction and death than power applied later?  Does the case of Germany in the 1930s provide us with any wisdom regarding Iran, Serbia, Syria?

It is this question which led Erik Larson to William E. Dodd, U.S.  Ambassador to Germany from July 1933 to December 1937, and to his family, but particularly his 24-year-old daughter Martha.  What he found resulted in his 2011 book  In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler’s BerlinThough Larson shies away from calling this a history, in favor of a narrative non-fiction, the genre of his other books, it is a welcome addition to the mountain of research and writing, history and otherwise, about Hitler, the Nazis, the build up to WW II and what on-lookers, even players, were seeing and doing.   With Martha Dodd and her many, and scandalous, love affairs forming a major thread of the book, it may attract readers who would not open a standard book of history.  And in the process they will learn much. In fact, Tom Hanks has reportedly seen enough, of popular interest, to have purchased the movie rights.

Larson does a good job, as he tells us in his preface he wants to,  of helping us see Berlin in the summer, fall and winter of 1933 after the Dodd’s arrival in mid July.  By this time Hitler had been Chancellor for 6 months and lots of people knew things were going seriously wrong in Germany. (more…)

The Arch of Triumph: Love in Paris, 1938 — A Short Take

Friday, November 18th, 2011

Ingrid Bergman looks her fabled, youthful best and Charles Boyer dark and dashing as her handsome, older lover in The Arch of Triumph a forgotten minor gem of WW II movies.  Set in Paris from August of 1938 to the Nazi invasion of Poland on Sept 1, 1939, in wonderful blacks and whites, pouring rain, sodden trench coats, dripping fedoras,  with immigrants from all over Europe jamming the International Hotel, a wretched Joan Madou –Ingrid Bergman —  is rescued from disabling despair after the death of her lover by an unflappable Dr. Ravic — Charles Boyer.   Though the inevitability of their love is apparent to us, he is of a different mind.  He is illegally in Paris, fled from Austria after being tortured by the Gestapo in 1933.  His life is uncertain; he has been deported many times; Ravic is his third identity.  He deposits her in a hotel room not near his own, despite her obvious  need to be closely watched, and held.  Despite his precautions their ill-fated love affair begins, set against the secrets he can’t tell her, and her need to be secure in love.

If the approach of the war, certain to our history worn eyes, is not enough tension, Ravic’s sighting of his former torturer — Charles Laughton as Ivon Haake– in the crowds along the Champs Elysees will bring it to the twisting point.  A terrifying night ride through the Bois de Boulogne with Haake first drunk and then alert to his danger may force a few eyes closed until its over — even with the more violent scenes left on the cutting room floor as required by the 1948 Motion Picture Association production code.

Bergman is given some pretty ragged lines, and a change of character improbable enough to let us fall out of love with her, so despite the promise it doesn’t rise to the level of Casablanca, though certainly a worthy companion piece.  There is also a 1985 remake of Arch of Triumph, with Anthony Hopkins and Lesley-Anne Downey.  I haven’t seen it but Hopkins would make it a good bet.

The script is based on a novel of the same name by Erich Maria Remarque, known world wide for All Quiet on the Western Front.  The novel of course has more time than the film to deepen the sense of Paris in 1938-39 — as the world is falling apart.  Ravic is an expert surgeon but must operate clandestinely, as he does in the film, but on more people.  We meet his patients and feel Ravic’s humanity as he repairs a botched abortion, and amputates a leg of a young boy.  He runs a weekly health check for high-class prostitutes; we see the consequences for those to do not pass.

Remarque handles the affairs of the heart in the swirling fear of approaching war well; the approach and retreat, the hope appearing and hiding, the indecision then recognition of feelings unexpected and true.  As with the movie — a good, if not superior creation.

To End All Wars: Adam Hochschild

Saturday, September 24th, 2011

If you’ve ever stood a picket line, leafleted about an unpopular cause,  been arrested for civil disobedience, fought and lost against the powerful, if you have raged about the lives lost to war,  here’s a book that should be in your hands –and half-way read.  If you vaguely sense that the  modern international order came spilling from the obscure depths of World War I, Adam Hochschild is the writer you should turn to.  His To End All Wars  is a  marvelous history not just of WW I and its generals and governments, but of the  mostly forgotten individuals who fought back against great evil and great ignorance, often reviled by their comrades of only weeks before.

Following his two other excellent books, King Leopold’s Ghost and To Bury the Chains  Hochschild has done it again with a stirring account of key players in England’s part in World War I; the Generals and politicians of course but the opposition figures as well — the COs who were threatened with death before a firing squad, the women  coming out of the very militant  suffragette  movement, who took on the war machine, the small handful of socialists and labor leaders who agitated continually against the constant calls to Join Up and Do Your Duty.  It’s not all a glorious story, either.  Not all who opposed the war before the shooting began, stayed true to their beliefs.  Many socialists and pacifists of every stripe, vociferous in their condemnation of war in the abstract, or insistent on the  reality of the brotherhood of workers around the world, fell fast into march step with the fevered nationalism of the day.  But some kept at it, spending virtually their entire lives in meetings, demonstrations, letter writing campaigns, and jails.

Hochschild spent some five years combing the histories and archives to come up with his “Dramatis Personae,”  some of them among the most famous Britons of the time, some of them, resisters,  famous then and forgotten now.  The military men,  Sir John French,  the Commander in Chief of the British Armies in France, Sir Herbert Horatio Kitchner,  as Minister of War  his boss,  General Douglas Haig, Winston Churchill,  had all been young men in the colonial wars of the 1880s,  thrilled to be in combat against Muslim Arabs of the Sudan who did not know their place or appreciate the benefits of being part of the Empire.  Many had enhanced their fighting mentality in vicious battles in South Africa against the non-British white colonists spread across the Transvaal, in the Second Boer War 1899-1902.

Charlotte Despard is introduced, as one of the great contrasts and tension points of the book.  She had come from a well-to-do British family and had early felt great compassion for the the poor she saw around her.  She married well and for 20 years engaged in political causes, and wrote long romantic novels.  In 1890, when Charlotte was 46, her husband died and she found her true calling, working in one of London’s poorest slums, opening community centers and attending to the lives and education of the poor, devoting herself,  as Hochschild quotes her, “to those who slave all their lives long … earning barely a subsistence,  and thrown aside to death or the Parish when they are no longer profitable.”

Charlotte Despard and Sir John French were brother and sister.  When he led the British armies in France from 1914 to his “promotion out”, in December of 1915, she opposed the war with all her being.  When he oversaw the suppression of the Irish fight for independence, she cheered for it, and opposed him.  And yet, until near the end, they remained close.  She was his elder sister and had raised him after the early death of their parents.

In Despard’s sixties she  was jailed for 21 days in Holloway Prison for suffragette activities.  It was with these women she met the other major players in To End All Wars, also members of a  split family:  Emmeline Pankhurst and her three daughters,  Christabel, Sylvia and Adela.  Militant suffragettes, Emmeline was both charismatic and dogmatic. She declared that suffragettes were “soldiers engaged in a holy war…”  and led them in window smashing, assaults on police officers, and arson.   When members of the WSPU [Women's Social and Political Union], which she had founded, told her she was acting against the WSPU constitution, she flew into a fury and replied, “then I’ll tear up the constitution.” As war broke over the nation in 1914, Emmeline and Christabel called for an end to militant suffragette activities and to back the government — which had jailed her so often– against the German Peril.  She used her powerful speaking skills to advance the cause of British patriotism,  with accusations of treason for those who opposed the war, including Sylvia.

These were women to be reckoned with.  Others among the opposition to the war were Emily Hobhouse who, kicking and screaming, opposed the British concentration camps in South Africa during the Boer War, and Keir Hardy, socialist leader of the Scottish miners, member of parliament, outspoken opponent of the Boer War and the war with Germany.  He was also Sylvia Pankhurst’s lover.

You gotta read this book just to know these folks!

After introducing us to the major players, Hochschild takes a brief look at the contending forces in the war to come: the Germans with their dream of equaling the British and French in power, prestige and colonies, Austro-Hungarians furious with the Slavs of Serbia who were straining to leave their  Empire and calling on their “brother Slavs” of Russia to lend a hand; the Russians with their fear of German territorial designs, humiliated by the Japanese 10 years earlier, held in contempt around the world [Roosevelt said that "No human beings, black, yellow or white could be quite as untruthful, as insincere, as arrogant  ... as untrustworthy in every way, as the Russians."] were spoiling to prove their mettle by assisting Serbia’s Slavs.  France had recent memories of a German invasion, loss of Alsace-Lorraine, and occupation of Paris in the War of 1870,  the Franco-Prussian war.   England would have liked to stay out of the brewing mess, but there was there treaty with Belgium to consider.  All parties, including Germany,  had signed to honor Belgium’s neutrality but England which had created an independent Belgium after the revolutions of 1830, had a particular interest.  Wellington had defeated Napoleon on the wide open fields of Belgium.  England did not want any competitor nation to control that area.  Belgium’s coasts are England’s frontiers as Barbara Tuchman memorably puts it.

And then the story unfolds. Germany invades Belgium.  England is forced to respond.  France, despite its years-in-the-making plan to attack-attack  is beaten back to the doorstep of Paris and then, in a miracle, holds at the Battle of the Marne — all within the first  month of the war– and all settle-in for 4 years of disastrous static warfare: 10 million soldiers dead;  6 million civilians. 60% of French men between 18-40  killed or injured.  At the books end we not only have gripping knowledge of the struggle to make anti-war voices heard — in the face of formidable, and often ugly responses, but we know quite a bit about British colonialism, the primer of the Boer War, as well as the lack of generalship and diplomacy which led to such horrific losses.

There were only a couple of things I’d wished.  Though he spends a good chapter on the young officers of the Boer war who became British generals in WW I, I felt a bit more time could have been spent to help us understand the popular explosion of war-fever in England, against the Germans.  It turns out that Germany supported the Boer “rebels” against the British in this war, and so there was considerable popular feeling against those who had helped “kill our boys.” Similarly, the effect memories of the Franco-Prussian war had on the French.  It is amazing to read, or see in documentary movies, but in all three countries, ordinary citizens took to the streets following the declarations of war, as though unexpected holidays or a rain of wealth had been announced.

Hochschild also suggests that had the assassination of the the Archduke Ferdinand had not happened, and the Austrians not thought it a Serbian plot, the war might have been avoided.  That’s not my reading at all.  Germany’s Count Alfred von Schlieffen has been drafting his infamous plan, to open a two-front war, for years.  Diplomats and military men all across Europe thought a war inevitable.  There were predictions in the spring of 1914 that it would start no later than October.  The assassination was just the particular bullet to hit the powder keg; any of a hundred others would have done as well.  The time to stop wars is not after the powder is exploding it was years and years earlier when the competition for colonies and the wealth they brought was growing, when all “the dirty looks” and “dissing” between countries, and leaders and citizens were festering.  Too many heroes wait from war time to manifest themselves, and not enough show up when it’s really hard and idiocies and wrong headed polices have to be opposed.

Of course the definitive military-political book of the first month of the WW I  is Barbara Tuchman’s justly famed The Guns of August.  If To End All Wars  grabs your attention you will meet many of the same characters –mostly not at their finest– in her book.  Sir John French, in particular, comes out looking like he should have paid attention to his big sister, and retired to their estate.  Had others not intervened, his leadership — lack of– would have shamed England for decades, and likely led to the German occupation of France.

With three connected histories about the interconnecting popular movements against man’s inhumanity to man, the African slave trade, the Belgian Congo rubber slavery and anti-war warriors, it will be wonderful to see what Hoschschild comes up with next.  With such a depth of knowledge in the European human rights movements it would make sense for him to add to that.  The British CND [Committee for Nuclear Disarmament] which gave us the famous “peace” sign, would be one options, or perhaps a history of some of the early and long lasting NGOs like Oxfam, Amnesty International, Human Rights watch — and looks at their significant campaigns, often carried out on war-footings as dangerous and demanding of great courage as for any soldier.

[For documentary pictures of war celebration, see Wooden Crosses [Les Croix de Bois], Raymond Bernard’s 1932 film of French soldiers on the Western Front.]

Alhaam: A Film from Iraq — 2005

Saturday, September 3rd, 2011

Alhaam, a movie shot in Iraq in 2004 — during the full catastrophe of the US invasion and related Iraqi insurgencies– is the rawest, hardest to watch movie of war I have ever seen — and I’ve seen many.    Not as tightly plotted or scripted as such American movies as The Hurt LockerFull Metal Jacket or The Thin Red Line  –which are in any case, about Americans in these wars–  the ragged effects of hand-held camera work, the not quite seamless narrative, the sometime loss of control in acting, adds to the chaos of what we are seeing – what they are experiencing.  In American war movies, even if hard-hitting and raw, it is still possible to think — this is not happening; this is a movie.  That’s Sean Penn, or Brad Pitt.  They were on the cover of People this month.  In Ahlaam it is very hard to think any of those things.  Whatever knowledge we retain that the movie has a director and actors it is hard not to believe that this is not a pure documentary of citizens caught in hell.

The film begins on the second day of the infamous  ”Shock and Awe,” air campaign as American explosives light up the sky over Baghdad, scenes most of us are familiar with from the actual days of the bombing, scenes we saw on CNN.  One of the buildings blown to smithereens is an insane asylum.  Through the broken walls and over smoking rubble the terrified inmates escape. The film follows several of them through the streets and back into their lives to show how they came to be there, beneath the bombs.

Alhaam, the lead character – whose name means Hope–  is bubbling and pretty on the days of her engagement.  She and her fiancee meet by the Euphrates and laugh about having their mothers take care of all the children they plan to have.  Her wedding day, with the dancing, ululating family,  is just a day before the bombing.  As she is about to come downstairs for the ceremony, masked Iraqis burst into the house and kidnap her fiancee.  Through most of the film she staggers across the still-being-bombed cityscape trying to find him.

Ali’s story and institutionalization began in 1998, during the earlier bombing of Iraq by US and British forces during Operation Desert Fox.  An easy going soldier, he tries to cheer his best friend, in the army with him, who constantly talks about fleeing Iraq, the army, and the butchery of Saddam Hussein and beginning again in Europe.  During a bombardment the friend is badly wounded and Ali makes a heroic effort to carry him across the desert to get help.  He is eventually arrested by Iraqis, having gone mad and still carrying the corpse of his friend.  He is charged with desertion, and incarcerated.  In the asylum he calls the name of the friend over and over, obsessed with his inability to have saved him.

The third of the major characters is Mehdi, a hard working, diligent medical student who, after passing his board, is rounded up by that Baathists and impressed into the army — because of his father’s communist ties.  It is Mehdi who is in charge of the ruined hospital and leads a desperate search — with Ali in the lead– for those who have escaped and are roaming madly in the madness.

There are some over-the-top moments which might have been more powerful if more understated; even in a movie about chaos and human emotion we seem to have a sense of “over acting.”  The trope of inmates running, or escaping, an asylum as an allegory for the rest of us may be a bit cliched to educated readers, but as the crazed Ahlaam searches for, and occasionally ”sees” her fiancee, when she is raped  by Iraqis who should be the first to help her, when a masked sniper deliberately picks off citizens, including some the inmates struggling back to the hospital any idea of cliche is blown away.  Some of the shots, the image of Ali carrying his friend through the mirage emitting desert comes to mind, are as powerful as any you are likely to have seen in any movie, anytime.

There isn’t much to be cheerful about during the course of the movie; nor in the war, of course.  Mehdi, the doctor is a wonderful portrait of patience and desperation, trying to befriend the terrified inmates, offering them cigarettes to show he means no harm,  carrying one through the swampy mud at the edge of the Euphrates…  Ali, racing around Baghdad often in nothing more than boxer shorts,  becomes the idiot-every man rising out of his personal maddness to help those around him.

Next to the hell of  Alhaam Hieronymus Bosch’s Hell seems almost a cartoon of fanciful symbols, a misleading distraction from the actual hells that humans create.

Mohammed Al-Daradji, the director, is a young Dutch-Iraqi film maker, living  in Europe to avoid persecution from the Baathist regime.  When the war broke out in 2003 he went back wanting to make a film about ordinary Iraqi people. Ahlaam was shot in Baghdad in extremely difficult conditions – not only did he have to work around curfews and electricity cuts but members of his crew were arrested both by insurgents and by the Americans, neither side believing that they were simply making a film.

An interesting interview at Electric Sheep, can be found here.

 

AD: The character of Ahlaam is the one that brought me to the story. In 2003 I was watching the news about the war in Iraq while I was studying for a Master at Leeds University and I saw a reportage about a mental institution in Baghdad and how they were affected by the war. And then I saw Ahlaam – she was talking in a nonsensical way and it really shocked me. I couldn’t sleep that night. I dreamt about Ahlaam, on the street in Baghdad as you saw in the film.

VS: So Ahlaam was a real character?

AD: She was a real character, but I couldn’t meet her when I went to the mental institution in Baghdad two months after I saw the reportage. But I met another character, Ali. She wasn’t called Ahlaam. Ahlaam in Arabic means ‘dreams’. It’s not just about Ahlaam’s dreams but it’s also the dreams of the other characters, Ali’s dreams, Doctor Mehdi’s dreams, the dreams of any Iraqi who’s lived under Saddam’s regime and under the invasion. So for me it was about giving two meanings to the title: it’s the girl, and it’s also the meaning of the word.

 Alhaam was his first full length work, which he followed up with Son of  Babylon, not yet available at Netflix, but in the queue.  It was made under the auspices of Human Film  which also has other note-worth films to its credit, a new style production company like Participant Media, which ties it’s movies into vehicles not for product placement but for social change.

 

Twinned, Human Film & Iraq Al-Rafidain established in 2005, with a goal to seek and explore individual creativity, producing films with a social conscience and impact.
With roots in the east through our bases in Leeds (UK), Rotterdam (NL) and Baghdad (IQ), we are collectively committed to producing innovative, compelling films that entertain, inspire and challenge perceptions, furthering understanding on critical human issues to worldwide audiences through film.

Through our existence, we have the opportunity to share stories that we have a strong personal belief in, and through not applying any language, cultural, political, religious, or any other barriers to our filmmaking practice our work has the potential to affect and inspire.

Over the past 5 years we have successfully completed 3 feature films in Iraq; Ahlaam (2006), Iraq’s official entry for the 2011 Oscars and Golden Globes, Son of Babylon (2010) the recipient of the Berlinale IFF Peace Prize, Amnesty Film Award 2010 and Karlovy Vary’s NETPAC Award and most recently: Iraq, War, Love, God and Madness (2010).

 

You won’t find a more honest, direct and even heroic account of the toll war takes on non-combatants than in this movie.  Ahlaam is a must see, even if you can’t watch some of it.

 

Paths of Glory: A Novel and A Film of War

Monday, July 25th, 2011

As local author Adam Hochschild makes the rounds with his latest, amazing book, To End All Wars [following King Leopold's Ghost, and Bury the Chains, both wonderful and heart-teaching books] we are reminded again of that first of all modern wars, WW I;  modern in its weaponry, modern in how such weapons made futile and murderous the strategies from the previous war, modern in it use of mass armies and modern in the uncountable deaths of civilians.

Many many books have been written about that war, its futility, the jingoistic patriotism that converted so many pacifists to bellecists , the ignorance and incompetence of much of the high commands, and yes, the courage and stoicism of those under fire.  Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front, Hemingway’s A Farwell to Arms,  are standard reading for American, and I’ve heard, German,  high school students.  Under Fire  by Henri Barbusse (French) and Ernst Junger’s Storm of Steel [German] were widely read in their time. Historical work from Paul Fussel, The Great War and Modern Memory, the contrarian Niall Ferguson’s, The Pity of War: Explaining World War One, and John Keegan’s, The First World War, have recently brought new scholarship and analysis to the keystone events of the century that followed.  Hochshild’s inclusion of those who resisted the swelling strains of honor, glory and easy victory, at great personal sacrifice, is a welcome and long over due perspective.

Undeservedly left out of lists of powerful fictional treatments of “The Great War”  is Humphrey Cobb’s Paths of Glory. When it was published in 1935 it stayed at the top of best-seller lists for weeks; a play was written from it and Cobb was hired as a Hollywood screen writer on the strength of it.  Perhaps the horrors of WW II came too soon afterwards.  Remarque and Hemingway had both published in 1929, in the “sweet spot” between the two wars.  Perhaps also, the unmitigated condemnation of the officer corps, a view shared by fellow Canadian soldier Charles  Yale Harrison’s 1930 Generals Die in Bed, was enough to bury it away from the rising “necessary” militarism of the 1940s.

In fact, Cobb’s view was too harsh even for Stanley Kubrick — or his producers– when he chose the story for his 1957 debut film by the same name.  While still a remarkable film, with strong war-as-stupidity themes, Col Dax — Kirk Douglas– who in both book and film  is the Regimental Commander, is turned in the movie from a decent officer who protests and then shuts-up over the summary court martials of three soldiers into their outraged defender.   He is made to turn down a promotion in return for silence, with a thundering rebuke to his commanding general.   Kubrick, in the general bleakness of the story, had to offer a stronger counterpoint of an honorable and morally sensitive officer.  Not so Cobb.

Even with the strengthening of Dax’s role, the movie came under strong fire in France, Germany and Spain for its anti-military content.  Release was delayed in all three countries until the furor died down.

The plot is a simple one.  Because a German hill, in the way of a French advance — called “the pimple,” in the novel, and “the anthill,” in the film — had been mistakenly reported as taken, it has to be taken — despite the exhaustion of the troops, and the “within bounds” protests of Dax and other officers. The assault takes place.  Many French soldiers and junior officers are killed.  The French do not even get to the no-man’s zone between the two lines.  When Assolant, the General of the Division of which Regiment 181 is a part, understands the looming failure he orders his artillery to fire on his own men to drive them out of the trenches towards the Germans. The Artillery officer refuses, unless a written order, signed by Assolant is received.  The attack fails.  In a rage, and in fear of being judged weak by his superiors, Assolant wants entire squads from each company to be shot for cowardice and refusal to go forward under enemy fire.  Eventually he is talked down into one man from each of the four companies — to be chosen by the Company Commanders.  One refuses, one does it by lottery, and two simply pick men.  The men go on trial, defended by an ineffectual Captain and consoled by an ineffectual, and unwanted, chaplain.  They are found guilty, summarily, tied to stakes at the head of a parade ground, and shot, with all troops in formation to observe, and learn.

The closing lines of the novel, far from the merely sad, and reflective close of the Kubrik film, are deadly and  final.  After the volleys of the firing squad die away, the Sergeant-Major of the Division is given the task of administering the coup-de-grace.

It must be said of Boulanger that he had some instinct for the decency of things, for, when he came to Langlois, his first thought and act was to free him from the shocking and abject pose he was in before putting an end to any life that might be clinging to him.  His first shot was, therefore, one that deftly cut the rope and let the body fall away from the post to the ground. The next shot went into the brain, which was already dead.

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The Devil You Don’t Know: Going Back to Iraq — Zuhair Al-Jezairy

Thursday, June 9th, 2011

Iraq is, in the words of Zuhair al-Jezairy in The Devil You Don’t Know, his memoir/reportage of returning  there after 25 years in exile,  ”a succession of scattered moments. Each new event erases the previous one and consigns it to oblivion.”   At least that is how he saw it  from 2003 when he crossed the border through early 2009 when he finished writing.  The book itself reflects this — a succession of scattered moments.  As he says near the end, about a documentary film project he and a friend took on for a while:  ”the camera hardly knows where to turn.”  There is so much to be seen and captured, held until a time when narratives once again  are able to give shape to the explosion of events.  So it is with his writer’s eye, turning here and there in a whirlwind of impressions, from finding his family home after so many years, to judging the distance of falling mortars while eating with friends.  And, since it is a book about returning it is also a book about memory — what a person, or a building, or their lack, recalls to him from the last time they he saw them.  This is familiar to all of us who have returned to scenes of our youth; it is the stuff of many good memoirs.  Most of us, however, do not return to scenes of unimaginable violence, sectarian warfare and people traumatized by thirty years of terror. Al-Jezairy does.

 

The first half of the book follows the path of his return, geographically, and emotionally.  As a young man Al-Jezairy came of age, along with many of his peers around the world, protesting the U.S. war in Vietnam.  More than that, he was in Jordan and Lebanon during fierce wars in each.   He fled Iraq in 1979 as Saddam Hussein and the Ba’ath party to power with a wave of assassinations, escaping into Jordan with an assumed name and false passport to spend years as in exile. He’s coming back to Iraq on the heels of another U.S. invasion — but about which he has much more divided emotions.

I am divided against myself: against anyone who supports the war (and ready to argue it out almost to the point of blows — how can any person of culture support a war which is destroying his country and killing his people?) And yet, I am against those who oppose the war  (they want to prolong the dictatorship, whether they admit it or not.) (more…)

Every Man Dies Alone — Hans Fallada, Germany 1947

Thursday, April 7th, 2011

No less than Primo Levi, Herman Hesse and Thomas Mann have sung the praises of Hans Fallada, the novelist who powerfully portrayed life in inflation ruined Weimar Germany and of stubborn resistance in Berlin to Hitler and the Nazis.  Yet he is little known in the United States.  His first widely read novel, Little Man, Now What?“, about the struggle of a German couple during the Great Depression, became a Book of the Month Club selection, in an English translation, and was made into a 1934 Hollywood movie directed by Frank Borzage with Margaret Sullavan and Douglass Montgomery.  Yet if asked to name powerful novels of the Holocaust or World War II  his name would occur to few.  That’s too bad.

Primo Levi called his “Every Man Dies Alone,”  ”The greatest book ever written about the German resistance to the Nazis.”  Alan Furst, a contemporary novelist of such compelling wartime thrillers as The Spies of Warsaw has said “Every Man Dies Alone is one of the most extraordinary and compelling novels ever written about World War II.  Ever… Please do not miss this.”

I join Furst in saying: Please Do Not Miss This book!

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