If you have only 15 minutes to read, pick up this book.
I read it during breakfast one day, and finished it within 15 minutes. It was a bad idea. At the end of the book I felt like crying. However, I was so taken by the book I read it many, many times that week. So much so I could probably memorize it by now!
I read it when I wake up, I read it when I’m having breakfast, I read it before going to bed…
I pushed the book to Hero. I rarely do that. Our taste in books differs. We share common likings for books about history and ancient warfare but that is as far as our similar tastes in books go. Pretty safe to say, whatever I read wouldn’t interest him and vice versa.
Guess what? My hardened man was taken by the book. I see him shaking his head in disbelief a few times while reading it. Then he started peddling that book to all friends who come across. P read it, had the same shake-head-in-disbelief reaction. Then he lent it to his girlfriend, who lent it to some girls at work and vice versa. I can picture their reaction.
This little book packs in every emotion and twist it to the last strand. I find it disturbing. I find it horrifying in some parts. I find it unbelievably shocking in others. It left me uneasy. And sad. And everything else in between from feeling of sadness, helplessness to unsatisfactory victory.
This book made a reader out of non-reader among our friends, even if it was only for this particular book. Friends who usually shun books got curious when this was discussed while drinking beers. I would know it. Hero’s and P’s friends and workmates congregates around here for beers and conversations few times each week. This book was thin enough for the clueless to read while sipping beer and listening to the rest of the guys discussing it. It’s a strange sight…hardened, rough, construction men discussing literature. And how funny would it be when these men return home to tell their wife, “oh, I was at Hero’s place today and I read this interesting book…” and then start talking about it?
And it happened! Two wives that were so astounded at their men coming home discussing book, or rather a particular book, and I got a call the next day asking what it was. What’s the deal with the book. So I told them. And then lent it to them. Then they understood.
But the truth is, we’re not discussing literature. We wouldn’t be so pompous as that! To us laymen, the book most disturbing points were that of disloyalty and broken friendship, all because of the racist poison.
The verdict? The book was due a week ago and I had to extend it because other friends wanted to read it. Tomorrow it will return in my hand again and I will read it for the last time before I return it to the library.
The action of the characters are unbelievable. But it is very believable. Sounds weird when put that way but that is how it is. Their actions were understandable. In the end I felt justice was served but strangely I wasn’t satisfied by how.
Perhaps that is what made it so unsettling. So un-comforting. The knowledge that even though we shake our head in disbelief of what these two friends are doing to each other, we know that it could have well been us. We can feel them. Both of them. We understood why they did what they did even if we didn’t agree.
Below is my summary of the book, if you care to read it. I had wrote it in white font. That way you can choose whether to read it before you read the book itself by highlighting and revealing the secret passages of this entry (haha). Or you can choose to ignore the spoilers, get the book out from the library and read it for yourself.
Summary (Highlight the paragraphs with your cursor to reveal spoilers)
This book is a series of letter between two friends. One is Jewish, the other German. They had been in business partnership in America, pre-Hitler. They were the best of friends, loved each other like brothers. The art gallery they co-own earned them a comfortable living, and the German moved back to what was then poor-Germany. They continued their business relationship by corresponding through letters.
As Hitler rises, the German was cautious about his friendship with his Jewish friend back in America. Gradually he told him not to write again unless it was attached with a bank draft, so their correspondence could be disguised as purely business.
However, as time passes it seems that the German friend is slowly being poisoned by Nazi ideologies. No longer does he feel for his Jewish friends. Their relationship became estranged…and one day the Jewish friend asked his German friend to look out for his sister. His sister and the German had once been lovers, but so true was the Nazi poison in the German friend that he refuse to help the Jewess when she was pursued by stormtroopers. The German kind, not the Star Wars variety. She was captured in his backyard, to her certain death. When he wrote back to his Jewish ‘friend’ back in America to inform him what has happened, that was the tipping point.
The subsequent letters from his Jewish friends was poisonous and malicious, without even sounding so. That is what bothers us.
It read like a normal letter between friends, but full of ideas falsely implicating the German of being a Friend of The Jews. He knew that sooner or later the Nazi that are bound to intercept correspondence, as it was at that time. (I bolded and underlined the “poison”)
“Aunt Rheba says tell Martin he must write more briefly and clearly so his friends can understand all that he says. I am sure everyone will be in readiness for your family reunion on the 15th.”
The last letter to his German ‘friend’ was the German’s undoing:
“Martin Our Brother,
Cousin Julius has two nine-pound boys. The family is happy. We regard the success of your coming artists’ exhibitions as assured. The last shipment of canvases was delayed due to difficulties of international exchange but will reach your Berlin associates in plenty of time. Consider reproduction collection complete. Your best support should come from Picasso enthusiasts but neglect no other lines.
We leave all final plans to your discretion but urge an early date for wholly successful exhibit.
The God of Moses be at your right hand.
Eisenstein.”
The last letter was sent back to the Jewish friend, with a stamp saying “Adressat unbekannt”—Addressee Unknown. It was a clear sign that his German ‘friend’ has been suspected of being a Jew supporter, or even worse a half-Jew and has been taken away to concentration camp or killed.
Two friends who had loved each other like blood brothers, turning against each other in the name of racial differences.
Was it worth it? In the end, they both made their point and lost the battle.
This was written during Hitler’s period. However, it is still every bit relevant now: Muslim vs The Rest of The World, various racial conflicts…just to name two. If we are not careful, this could well be us.
And this, my dear readers, makes me uncomfortable.
Let us not forget.
Too bad for that! Will have to figure that one out. I know, I know…me and my justified-OCD.
fireplace it is all romantic and gooey-ish…you’ll be disappointed to find out that ashes do fly out whenever you open the door to put more wood in. And they land on the floor. And tomorrow morning your romance ends and your reality begins as you sweep them ashes away and wonder why a thing so beautiful could possibly take up so much work. 
