Tag Archives: world war 2

CCLaP Fridays: Arming the Luftwaffe, by Daniel Uziel

This week I review “Arming the Luftwaffe” by Daniel Uziel, an account of the development of Nazi era technology and wartime logistics.

CCLaP Fridays: On Being Human: Hellboy, by Mike Mignola

In this week’s installment of my essay series, “On Being Human,” I explore the comic book series “Hellboy,” and a how a cigar-chomping hell demon, who also happens to be a practicing Catholic, works to save the world for Rasputin, Nazis, and all manner of Lovecraftian nightmarish entities.

CCLaP Fridays: The Duke Don’t Dance, by Richard Sharp

This week, I review Richard Sharp’s novel “The Duke Don’t Dance,” tracing several friends across decades and continents from the jungles of Southeast Asia to a DC lobbying firm and beyond. The novel combines nuanced literary observations with cutting satire.

MONDAYS WITH THE SUPREMES, PART III: KOREMATSU, BROWN, AND PADILLA

A limited-run series where I review three books about the Supreme Court of the United States, exploring its historical and ideological conflicts, and the transformations it wrought upon law and society.

This is the story of three Supreme Court cases.  The three cases illustrate the real political power exercised by the Supreme Court and the concept of stare decisis, more commonly known as “binding precedent.”  Furthermore, the reader should see this section as a kind of intellectual exercise.  Legal legitimacy coupled with cultural acceptance creates a powerful cocktail that can make overturning legislation much more challenging.

The Court established itself as an independent branch of the United States government in Marbury v. Madison, 5 U.S. (1 Cranch) 137(1803).  This allowed the Court to operate as “final arbiter” in constitutional disputes.  It announced to the Executive Branch that it wouldn’t act as the President’s handmaid.  The Supreme Court is not a rubber stamp to the President’s ever-growing imperial power.  (Congress has that job, at least in terms of its War Powers.  Since Vietnam, Congress, in acts worthy of the Heaven’s Gate cult, seems perfectly comfortable with acts of self-castration.  Besides, Congress engages in more pressing acts: seducing lobbyists, having affairs with staffers, and scanning wealthy families for trophy wife material.)

Coupled with its task as final arbiter, the Supreme Court utilizes the concept of “binding precedent.”  In an ideal circumstance, the Supreme Court does not legislate from the bench.  The Court either upholds or overturns the case based on precedent.  A Justice can’t just say, “This is wrong, don’t do it.”  A specific piece of legislation has to be deemed unconstitutional.  Previous Court cases, other laws, and the Constitution itself must support the constitutionality of the decisions.

While Congress writes laws to be signed into law by the President, the Supreme Court interprets the law.  But interpretation is a hollow exercise if it is not enforced.  These three cases show how the dance between constitutional interpretation and legal enforcement become a balancing act between branches.  Occasionally, these balancing acts spill over into public conflicts and duels.

Korematsu v. United States, 323 U.S. 214 (1944)

Holding: The exclusion order leading to Japanese American Internment was constitutional.

Majority: Black, joined by Stone, Reed, Douglas, Rutledge, Frankfurter
Concurrence: Frankfurter
Dissent: Roberts
Dissent: Murphy
Dissent: Jackson

Korematsu is a lingering black eye on the American legal system.  It remains a damning indictment against the Executive excesses of FDR and the judicial spinelessness of his appointees.  Alternately, Korematsu shows a patriotic Supreme Court upholding the will of the Executive in times of war against a ruthless enemy dedicated to brutality, terror, and warmongering.  What do you think, Dear Reader?

The case, like the segregated armed forces and the alliance with Stalin, opens any number of vulnerabilities within the otherwise hagiographic treatment of the Greatest Generation.  No amount of nostalgia or selective memory will disprove that our leaders and our citizens had feet of clay.  The Second World War was not as black-and-white as the opposing forces in the Lord of the Rings.  Reality, to quote Herman Melville, had more ragged edges.

The case itself upheld Executive Order 9066 that legalized the internment of Japanese-Americans.  War hysteria following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor coalesced with decades of anti-Asian sentiment among Americans of European descent.  While Japan had spies and other intelligence agents working towards infiltration of the US mainland, Executive Order 9066 involved tackling a surgical problem with a sledgehammer.  Instead of targeting suspicious foreign agents working for enemy powers, it gave law enforcement the ability to arrest and imprison native-born US citizens.  It invalidated constitutional protections offered to any citizen born in the United States to those who looked like the enemy.  (Arizona’s recent anti-immigration law also reflects this racially motivated hysteria.  Illegal immigration is a problem, especially in Border States, but turning every “Mexican-looking” person into a potential felon is a stupid solution.)

A closer analysis of the decision reveals the potential time bomb that would later explode in Brown v. Board.  As Feldman writes in Scorpions,

With the war on, Black was disinclined to stand up for equality, even though his liberal, Catholic colleague Frank Murphy condemned the decision as pure racism.

Because the Korematsu case focused on a military order, Justice Jackson became torn and issued an enigmatic dissent, trying to balance “uphold[ing] a military order would distort constitutional law; striking it down would inappropriately second-guess military authority.”  As opposed to Robert Jackson’s concept of judicial pragmatism, Justice Felix Frankfurter wrote a concurrence stating that the internment program “is not be stigmatized as lawless because like action in times of peace would be lawless.”  Frankfurter believed in judicial restraint and opposed all measures to legislate from the bench.  Frankfurter’s assessment opened up the possibility for repealing segregation with the reasoning that the internment was necessary because it was wartime.  In peacetime, similar unfair treatment based on race was unconstitutional.

Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, 347 U.S. 483 (1954)

Holding: Segregation of students in public schools violates the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, because separate facilities are inherently unequal. District Court of Kansas reversed.

Majority: Warren, joined by unanimous

During the Fifties and Sixties, the Warren Court oversaw the greatest expansion of civil rights and individual liberties in recent memory.  In Brown v Board of Education, Earl Warren wrote a unanimous opinion striking down segregation in schools.  It was an act whose time had come.  The Court followed in the footsteps of President Truman’s executive order desegregating the armed forces.  Truman’s actions were relatively easier than what the Court faced.  Unilateral action could be taken, since Truman acted as Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces.  Desegregating schools was a trickier business.

The long winding road of Brown v. Board culminated in the Supreme Court’s unanimous decision.  The unanimity of the Court gave the decision extra moral and legal heft necessary for such a radical social change.  Scorpions relates how the Court reached a unanimous vote; routinely holding over the decision until the next year and then having it reargued.  Only until Chief Justice Vinson, a proud Southerner and pro-segregationist, retired and with Justice Robert Jackson on his deathbed, were the circumstances right.

With stare decisis, the Court used Korematsu as a precedent to strike down Plessy v Ferguson.  In oral arguments, evidence was presented that showed that “separate but equal” did not mean what it said.  The races were separated but far from equal.  Everything from racist stereotypes in pop culture to redlining to legal disenfranchisement were engineered to keep African-Americans from getting any ideas about racial equality.  Plessy v Ferguson would not stand, since it was based on false pretenses.  Korematsu came into effect because of the reasoning involved.  The Japanese-American internment camps were created as a temporary measure.

Once the War ended, the camps would lack any basis for existence.  Since the US Government knowingly created the camps as a racist containment strategy, the same could be said for legal segregation.  Segregation contained “uppity blacks.”  With the US triumph in the Second World War against racist tyranny, it seemed a tad hypocritical to defend racist social engineering.  In addition, segregation was used as a canard to discredit American democracy.  Justice Robert Jackson understood this, because he had jousted with Hermann Goering during the Nuremberg Trials.  In the Fifties, the Soviets and American Communists consistently used segregation as an example of American capitalist evil.  The United States also had the awkward experience of explaining to African diplomats and dignitaries why hotel clerks and restauranteurs were treating them like shit.  Despite popular opinion to the contrary, especially but not exclusively, in the South, that the time had indeed come to rectify this perversion of democracy.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing and waiting for segregationists to retire or die.  The nine justices battled between striking down school segregation with a unanimous vote and the order to do it immediately.  Like a refrain from a terrible pop song, the Court settled on a compromise.  (Compromises being the go-to solution for America’s self-inflicted race-based problems.)  In exchange for a unanimous vote and to appease stubborn Southerners on the Court, the Court decided to strike down Brown, but for the lower courts to establish their own timetables.  “Gradualism” was the key word.  Unfortunately, gradualism only sounded good on paper.  This opened the door for states to drag their feet or come up with creative legal loopholes.  This led to Southern governors challenging the Supreme Court’s authority, since the Court lacked any enforcement apparatus.  Eventually we get the National Guard escorting little black girls to school and repugnant alternate uses for fire hoses.

The Brethren picks up where Scorpions leaves off.  With desegregation legal and mandatory, it opened up a can of worms for courts to unravel.  If schools were desegregated, does that mean neighborhoods also need to be desegregated?  Do schools have to match the racial ratios of the neighborhoods they serve?  What about bussing?  The challenges associated with desegregation stretch into the Sixties, Seventies, and Eighties.  Even in the Nine, the Rehnquist Court, made up of a conservative and moderate majority, sought to strike down Brown, but with little success.

Rumsfeld v. Padilla, 542 U.S. 426 (2004)

Holding: Habeas corpus petition had been improperly filed in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York, and should have been filed in the U.S. District Court for the District of South Carolina; petition should have named Padilla’s immediate custodian, not the Secretary of Defense.

Majority: Rehnquist, joined by O’Connor, Scalia, Kennedy, Thomas
Concurrence: Kennedy, joined by O’Connor
Dissent: Stevens, joined by Souter, Ginsburg, Breyer

Padilla v. Rumsfeld appears like a culmination of Korematsu and Brown, but is in reality rather disappointing and dangerously inconclusive.  We have the similar themes of rights violation occurring during wartime (Congress keeping its rubber-stamping ability to legislation expanding Executive power in fighting trim.)  In this case, the concept of habeas corpus lay in the crosshairs.

Padilla, an American citizen, was held in the brig and charged as an “enemy combatant.”  The case could have unraveled the Bush Administration’s legal basis for torture, extraordinary rendition, and other authoritarian atrocities committed in the name of liberty and freedom.  (These colors don’t run, just the intelligence and common sense of the American voter.)  In the end, the case was struck down on a technicality, since Padilla should have petitioned the brig’s commandant, not the Secretary of Defense.  Unfortunately, this leaves a lot of questions unanswered and civil liberties extremely vulnerable to Executive malfeasance and whatever psychotic lunacy one can get away with by saying the magic words “national security.”

While Padilla is an unfortunate case, stare decisis and a future Court will have the opportunity to slay the dragon of Executive power run amok.  Since the War on Terror is technically finished, we’ll see how the laws and executive orders issued during those tumultuous years will hold up under judicial scrutiny.

Up next: Tapes and Tapes

Translation Tuesdays: Wonder (1962), by Hugo Claus

A new series dedicated to literature in translation whether classic or contemporary.

Originally published as De verwondering
Translated from the Dutch by Michael Henry Heim
Archipelago Books (2009)

Wonder is a strange book.  By turns sarcastic, hallucinatory, satirical, and dreamlike, it relates the misadventures of one Victor-Denijs de Rijckel, a teacher of English and German at a secondary school.  He is a teacher so anonymous he lacks any nickname usually given by students.  The novel follows Victor in his picaresque journey, an obsessive quest to find a woman.  Along the way, he acquires a Sancho Panza in the form of a bratty student named Verzele.  His journey ends when he and the student find themselves in a small town named Almout.  It hosts a meeting of former Nazi collaborators.  At the meeting, we learn about their devotion to Crabbe, a messiah figure they believe will return to Belgium.

The novel switches between third person accounts and a first person narrative (Victor’s) during his incarceration in an insane asylum.  The Castilian proverb used by Claus reveals the Wonder’s strange and cruel nature.  (Unfortunately, the proverb remains untranslated in the Archipelago Books edition.  The publisher did manage to get Goya’s illustration of the proverb, Los Caprichos no. 42, with donkeys riding their masters.)  The translated proverb reads, “You who cannot, carry me on your back.”  Further commentary by R. Stanley Johnson states the men’s eyes are closed representing ignorance along with a cruel donkey that controls a man with spurs.  Goya used this topsy-turvy image as “one of the strongest condemnations of contemporary Spanish society.”  The novel condemns contemporary Dutch society, the corrupting nature of Nazi collaboration, and the banal puritanical mysticism of fascism.

Submission and subservience play out among the various characters and the geopolitical background.  The reader absorbs the still-fresh wounds inflicted (and self-inflicted by the Second World War.)  An accretion occurs from the various strata of submission, tragic and cancerous, until it overwhelms every character.  Victor submits to the charms of a mystery woman he follows with obsessive passion.  He also follows Verzele, the roles of imperious schoolteacher and obedient pupil reversed.  The individual’s capitulation to the totalitarian State meets with ironic reversal in Belgium.  While resisting the lure of domestic fascist groups, Belgium came under occupation from German forces on their way to conquer France.  But Belgium was hardly a naïve innocent.  Even though fascism did not thrive there, the nation let a conservative Catholic authoritarianism thrive and flourish.  Belgium’s Catholicism provided the rich potting soil for the les fleurs du mal to bloom, aided by one Leon Degrelle.

While this may strike one as cheap anti-Catholic bigotry, one has only to look at Spain, Italy (fascism’s birthplace), Austria (Hitler’s birthplace), and the Vatican.  The Holy See may have saved a few thousand Jews during World War 2, but could have been more effective if they had bothered to excommunicate Hitler, Mussolini, Franco, and other dictators who used Catholicism to further their tyrannical aims and countless atrocities.  (The Vatican would finally abolish the accusation of deicide in 1965, three years after the publication of Wonder, albeit a few decades late of the death camps.)

Leon Degrelle founded the conservative authoritarian Catholic Christus Rex movement and later fought on the Eastern Front as a member of the Waffen-SS.  Claus presents Crabbe as a thinly veiled version of Degrelle.  After the War, Degrelle fled to Spain.  Later on, he became active in various neo-Nazi movements.  The group devoted to Crabbe only looks more pathetic with the light of historical developments shining a light on the mendacious piety of these walleyed fanatics.

Claus weaves together a rich tapestry, presenting an array of memorable characters: the hackneyed anti-Semitic Buick salesman Teddy Maertens, the vicious schoolboy Verzele, the eccentric fascist sculptor Sprange, and many others.  They are planets revolving around Victor, a human void impersonating a scholar whose specialty is the life of Crabbe.

Unlike a realist or neo-realist piece, the novel reads like a New Wave film, a bastard-hybrid of L’Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) and Week End (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967).  This is a quest narrative as black comedy, populated with cowards, traitors, and fanatics.  Peopled by characters willing, by various degrees, to exchange their individuality for collective security and willfully ignorant of the crimes occurring right under their noses.

Wonder offers up brutally damning portraits and wildly farcical set pieces as evidence of his nation’s culpability in World War 2.  Claus’s indictment arises less from a lawyer’s accumulation of evidence but through a visionary dream-logic.  He presents the reader with both the allure and the horror of fascist collaboration.

CCLaP Fridays: Isaac: a modern fable, by Ivan Goldman

I review Isaac: a modern fable, by Ivan G. Goldman, in which Lenny, really the Isaac from the Bible, works security for a LA movie mogul and meets Ruth, a struggling academic with an equally troubled past. In this telling, the Biblical Isaac was granted eternal life and youth. He witnesses mankind’s foibles across the centuries, so long as he doesn’t fall in love or land in jail, because then they would discover he’s not like other men. To read the entire review click here.

Shadows Walking, by Douglas R. Skopp

“To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these… these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.” – The Joker, The Dark Knight (2008)

Taking its title from a passage in Macbeth, Shadows Walking takes the reader into the nightmarish descent of modern German history.  Skopp traces the lives of two men – Johann Brenner, an ardent nationalist, and Philipp Stein, a Jew – throughout their military and medical careers.  Brenner and Stein endure the hardships of the First World War and the economic uncertainties of the Weimar Republic.  The rise of the Nazis causes their friendship to fracture.

The novel begins in the postapocalyptic wasteland of Nuremburg with Brenner, under an alias, working as a janitor in the Palace of Justice.  The Doctors’ Trial is beginning and Brenner listens to the horrific testimony of a victim.  The testimony concerns castrations done by SS doctors at concentration camps.  With the starvation, destruction, and desperation outside, the witness’s testimony hits the reader like a vicious sternum punch.  The graphic descriptions bring home the horrors of the Holocaust.

Even amidst the hellish experience of the Holocaust, the medical experiments performed by Mengele and his associates stands unique in its horror and obscenity.  The novel achieves brilliance in its accretion of details and experiences in the lives of the two main characters.  The common question is: How could Germany, which has such a rich tradition of arts, sciences, and philosophy, create such a barbaric and evil regime?  Skopp tries to answer that question through indirection and burying himself in the minds of Brenner and Stein.  The two are seen as “ordinary” Germans, not as famous political and historical figures.  Through the years, we see both enduring “death by inches”, to use another phrase from Shakespeare.  Compromise, desperation, and stubbornness contribute to the choices they make.

The book has passages, illuminating the inner thoughts of Brenner and Stein that lend the narrative a haunting plausibility.  The anthropomorphizing of German Culture in philosophical discourse combined with the medicalization of this discourse to create the idea that Germany, following the First World War, is sick and corrupt.  Philipp Stein sees the remedy in positive eugenics, although he slowly backs off the idea when he sees it done in everyday practice.  Johann Brenner also sees a eugenics-based solution, but resentment, economic desperation, and death push him towards the National Socialists.  Brenner isn’t one to question authority figures and his personal circumstances lead him to find a scapegoat for his (and the nation’s) problems.

Skopp’s self-published novel weaves a Balzackian tale that perfectly captures the ideas and lives of a specific time and place.  Skopp’s background as a history professor merges with his desire to tell a compelling story.  He also creates a historically authentic narrative that forces the reader to question the validity of his or her beliefs, yet, at the same time, not doing it in a manner that comes across as preachy or heavy-handed.  The novel aims to explore the questions we must face with the deeds perpetrated by the Third Reich, but it has the audacity to point back at the reader.  In the dark corners of our being, although we usually don’t admit as such, either to each other or to ourselves, we are capable of perpetrating criminal atrocities against each other.  Like a boiling frog, we don’t always realize the rationalizations and self-justifications we construct to distance ourselves from actions of criminality and evil.  Shadows Walking illustrates we only need a little push and we will devour each other.

What I’m Reading 2012 and Other Business

What I’m Reading 2012

Overview: I’m currently reading five books.  Each poses certain challenges (in some cases, self-imposed challenges) to me as a reader, reviewer, critic, historian, and aesthete.  While New Year’s Resolutions get broken seconds after they’re uttered, these challenges will form an informal backbone to my reading schedule.  As it stands, I want to increase the frequency of my blog posts from bimonthly to weekly.  (The same goes for my other blog, Coffee is for Closers.)  The positive responses from readers has really inspired me to do more.

As you’ll see with these challenges, I want to “raise the bar” with the Driftless Area Review’s content.

The Book: The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court, by Bob Woodward and Scott Armstrong

The Challenge: Woodward and Armstrong’s book chronicles the Burger Supreme Court from 1969 to 1975.  The Supreme Court decided on many significant cases, including the Pentagon Papers, Roe v Wade, and others.  Reading The Brethren has inspired me to write a multibook, deep-reading-style review, focusing on the Supreme Court.  For this review, I will also read The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court, by Jeffrey Toobin, and Scorpions: The Battles and Triumphs of FDR’s Great Supreme Court Justices, by Noah Feldman.

As a historian, the review will pose a great challenge.  The nice thing about the three titles is how each reflects off each other.  The Brethren follows the decisions of Hugo Black and William O. Douglas, two long-lasting Justices and FDR appointments.  Black died in 1971, paving the way for President Nixon to nominate and appoint William Rehnquist.  The Nine examines the Court during the Dubya Years, including the consequences of Rehnquist’s death, Rehnquist having then been elevated from Justice to Chief Justice.  The three books reveal the slow movement from a liberal to a conservative agenda.  The differing genres will be interesting to evaluate, since Brethren and Nine are works of investigative journalism and Scorpions is popular history.  It should prove to be an interesting project.

The Book: Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume 2, by Karl Marx

The Challenge: Currently back-burnered for more compelling books.  Unfortunately, some sequels are worse than the originals.  Unlike Marx’s first volume, Volume 2 is a slow, tedious, bone-dry work, more akin to an economics textbook.  In addition, Friedrich Engels edited the present volume following Marx’s death.  The work exists as an amalgamation of several of Marx’s notebooks.  While the work presents relevant material on the operations of political economy, it is almost too dull to read.  The challenge will involve trying to read it without falling asleep.

A further challenge involves me writing more essays in my series Essays on Capital.  I want to continue this series, since the first volume presented a rich seam to mine.

The Book: Shadows Walking, by Douglas R. Skopp

The Challenge: Douglas Skopp’s self-published novel is a revelation, a well-written exploration of two doctor’s lives in Nazi Germany.  I will review the novel on its own, but it will become part of a larger project.  This project involves reading three massive, controversial novels about the Third Reich.  Two specifically focus on the Eastern Front: Europe Central, by William Vollmann, and The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell.  The third novel – The Tunnel, by William Gass – is technically a “university novel,” but the subject matter associated with the protagonist feeds into the works of Vollmann, Littell, and Skopp.

The final challenge will be psychological, since these four novels survey the darkest aspects of modern history.

The Book: Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution, by Simon Schama

The Challenge: This is the second history by Simon Schama that I’ve read.  I previously read Rembrandt’s Eyes, his magisterial double biography of Peter Paul Rubens and Rembrandt von Rijk.  As with Rembrandt’s Eyes, Citizens is an epic account, mixing biography, pop culture history, visual culture, politics, foreign policy, and tax law into a compelling page-turner.

French history is a particular enthusiasm of mine.  The challenge will be tempering this enthusiasm with the disinterested eye of a historian and bringing to bear my previous knowledge in French literature, historiography, and pop culture.

Blog Feature Revival

This year will see the revival of blog features on long hiatus.  The first will be the return of The Art of Reviewing.  French theorist Roland Barthes and prolific Gnostic Bardolator Harold Bloom are the first two on the docket.

The limited series 5000 Pages of Kissinger will conclude with my review of Years of Renewal, Kissinger’s final volume of his memoirs.  I have the skeleton of a review in place that I wrote several months ago.  The Arab Spring of 2011 and the nascent Occupy movement have made it a challenge to contextualize Kissinger’s work without seeming immediately outdated.  Both Arab Spring and Occupy have overturned the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm of supporting US-friendly free market dictatorships and absolutist monarchies in the Middle East.  These movements, along with the Tea Party movement and Ron Paul’s Small Government Neo-Isolationism, present opportunities for the government that acts in our name (if you’re a US reader of this blog) to reassess its global strategy, foreign policy interests, and free market cheerleading.

For decades, the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm had operated as a given within the global foreign policy architecture.  That given is no longer true and no longer equipped to deal with the Middle Eastern calls for freedom and the end of economic inequality.  As of this writing, the Arab Spring has become the symbol for freedom and liberation from oppression.  The end-result of these protests and coups is still unwritten.

“The Best 80s Sci Fi and Fantasy Films” will continue with an installment on Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Other Business

While I would like to this blog a major part of my life, creative projects and personal obligations inevitably get in the way.  These include a random assortment of personal and professional business.

I am getting married in early October and planning a wedding is a time-consuming endeavor.

On the reviewing front, I have a small pile of books from the Permanent Press I want to get around to reading.  I also have a couple novels from Archipelago Books I want to read and review.

My job is second shift and a temporary assignment.  Like many, many others who have been displaced, abandoned, or simply eliminated from the free market economy, I have a very real and very pressing goal of achieving full-time employment.  (The kind of employment associated with health benefits and paid time off.)  Working second shift has made it more challenging to post reviews, but with any challenge, it can be overcome.  On that note, if any blog readers like what they see and want to hire me as a writer, I’m all ears.  My contact information is in the Submitting Materials section.

Finally, I am working on the last round of revisions for a science fiction thriller.  I am planning to resubmit it to a small publisher who showed interest in the work.  In my query letter, I described my story as “The Sopranos meet Dune.”  I’m making this creative project a priority, since I am nearly finished with the revisions.  Overall, I have been pleased, since the revisions have strengthened the novel.

After Lyletown, by K.C. Frederick

A game of tennis with a good friend signifies that Alan Ripley has achieved “the good life.”  It is 1988 and Alan works as a Boston area real estate lawyer, has a loving wife working in academia, and a growing son.  The idealistic picture of late twentieth century domestic bliss fractures when Rory Dekker enters Alan’s life.  Alan met Rory twenty years ago as the intense fires of Sixties idealism curdled into resignation and rage.  With Nixon ascendant, Alan and his friends decide to “make a difference.”

Inspired by a seductive ideologue named Lily Culp and aided by a couple ex-cons, the tiny cadre of revolutionaries decide to participate in a heist.  The heist involved raiding a gun store, stealing the weapons, and distributing them to blacks.  It all seemed to make sense, at least on paper.  Then the day Alan should have participated in this nascent revolutionary action, he becomes sick and has to bow out.  The Lyletown Six became the Lyletown Five.  In the resulting melee, one person died, the others fled, and Rory ended up serving hard time.  Now Rory has returned into Alan’s life and Alan doesn’t know why.  Blackmail?  Revenge?  The reunion of friends possesses an ominous tinge.

After Lyletown by K.C. Frederick is a meticulously constructed narrative that Alan and Rory dealing with the consequences from the events of the Sixties.  On the surface, the premise is reminiscent of a thriller.  The novel itself operates on a much smaller, much more psychological level.  It is a novel of interiors.  Much is given over to Alan thinking and rethinking his decisions in the past and calculating the degree of his culpability.  The superficial portrait of the upper middle class real estate lawyer is only part of the picture.  Between the fires of Sixties idealism and thriving in Reagan’s America, Alan suffered one failed marriage and a dead-ended literary career.  He then reinvented himself as a law student, divorced his first wife Martha, and remarrying an attractive literary scholar named Julia.

Because of Rory’s silence in prison, Alan thinks he owes the ex-con something.  This is exacerbated by Alan’s realization that he could have lost everything if Rory chose to expose Alan’s part in the botched heist.  To further complicate matters, Alan chose to not reveal this part of his life to Julia.

What follows is a series of meetings between Alan and Rory.  Alan mired in self-guilt, Rory noticeably vague on his current situation.  Rory says he needs money, but doesn’t elaborate.  Alan, with lawyerly rationalizations, decides best not to ask, since too much knowledge would make him more culpable, especially if Rory’s plans for the money aren’t exactly legal.

Some passages in the novel seem a bit too on-point, like when Alan visits an elderly Polish woman who is his client in an eviction case.  The woman worked for the Polish resistance and lives on a modest pension.  The woman’s work in the resistance seems like an obvious mirror to Alan’s work with the Lyletown Five.  On the other hand, Julia’s father fought in the Second World War but refused to talk about it.  The war left him taciturn and tortured on a deep psychological level.  The omnipresence of war creates these peculiar ripple effects.  Since the story is set in the Late 80s/Early 90s, the reader could project the future for Tommy and how the future War on Terror will effect him.

The novel is an exploration of how war, prison, and affluence effect individuals, told at an unhurried pace.  The writing shimmers with descriptions of Innisfree, the Vermont cabin Julia’s father built, and Boston bars (dive bars and trendy Yuppie havens alike).  Not a narrative of spectacular confrontations but one that builds menace with a slow intensity and allows for the exploration of human interrelationships damaged by bad personal and foreign policy decisions.

The Road by Vasily Grossman

Best known for his novel Life and Fate, Vasily Grossman also wrote short stories and worked as a war correspondent in the Second World War.  A Ukrainian Jew with parents who worked as urban professionals, Grossman did not represent the common stereotype of the Eastern European Jew living in a “Litvak shtetl.”  The Road, a collection of short stories, journalism, and letters published by New York Review Books, provides a useful jumping off point for anyone interested in the life and work of Vasily Grossman.  It includes his earliest stories and his last short story he wrote.  “The Hell of Treblinka,” one of the first pieces of journalism about the Holocaust, is the centerpiece in the section devoted to the stories he wrote that focus on the Second World War.

Grossman had his share of tragedy in life.  His mother perished at the hands of the German war machine.  He wrote his masterpiece Life and Fate to deal with this loss.  The Soviet authorities “arrested” the book and Grossman became a non-person following his commitment not to whitewash Soviet complicity in the Second World War and the Holocaust.  Becoming a victim of the USSR’s anti-Semitic policies forced him to come to terms with his allegiance to the Soviet Union.  The Road charts this gradual disillusionment through his fiction and non-fiction.  His earliest stories, written in the 1930s, reflect the common tropes of Soviet Socialist Realism.  (Not too different from the heavy-handed moralizing of Ayn Rand’s fiction except that the heroes are Soviet soldiers and not industrialists.)  By the 1950s, he had abandoned the trappings of Socialist Realism, transcending literary movements to craft miniature literary gems.

New York Review Books has produced a beautiful book.  In terms of content, the translators have chosen the fiction and non-fiction selections that represent the overarching themes important to Grossman.  The selections also show Grossman developing as a writer, from devotee to Socialist Realism to literary artist.  A photograph opens each section.  Each section has an introduction explaining the historical context and specific linguistic issues each piece presents.  For instance, the story “Living Space” ends on a complex pun.  The translators avail themselves of the challenge successfully.  The story involves the everyday lives of residents in a communal apartment after a rehabilitated Gulag prisoner is assigned to live with them.  Following the main text, two appendices are included.  The first expands further on Grossman and his coverage of Treblinka.  The second explores his delicate relationship with Nikolay Yezhov, head of the NKVD and architect of the Great Terror, and his wife Yevgenia, who held a literary salon.  Like Roberto Bolaño, Grossman examined the dangerous interrelationship between art, politics, and terror.  Bolaño critiqued the US-supported South American authoritarian regimes, most notably Augusto Pinochet, while Grossman casts a subtle eviscerating eye on the lives of the Yezhovs.  The short story entitled “Mama” charts the life of a child adopted by the Yezhovs.  The child, orphaned by the very same NKDV that Nikolay heads, witnesses the rise and fall of her parents.  Yezhov eventually gets pushed out and meets death at the hands of Levrenti Beria.

“The Hell of Treblinka” explains in a few short pages the monumental horror of the Holocaust.  With a journalist’s trained eye for the immediate, the reader gets into the head of both the victims and the perpetrators.  It explains the demonic efficiency the Germans used to strip the Jews of their humanity.  The dehumanization is combined with an equally efficient method of murder on a massive industrial scale.  (It hearkens back to Karl Marx’s critique of capitalism in Capital.  Beginning with the commodity, he ends his critique by describing the cruelties of mass production and industrialization.  Instead of spinning cotton or making clothes, the death camps produced death on a scale unseen before or since.)  On the cover of the book, the reader sees a black and white photograph of a road in close up.  Grossman explains how the German policy of extermination changed radically following their defeat at the Battle of Stalingrad.  Intoxicated by their successes, the SS simply buried their victims in mass graves.  After Stalingrad, Himmler ordered the bodies dug up and burned.  The SS tried to cover its tracks when German defeat became a foregone conclusion.  They did so by covering the road approaching Treblinka with the ashes of the dead.  Then they also worked to destroy the camp itself.  “The Hell of Treblinka” provides a witness to the Shoah and also makes any reference to an American politician as “a Hitler” as something obscene.  It trivializes a tragedy, exposing the intellectual laziness of the accuser.  Grossman’s reportage and fiction would later get him into trouble when it failed to line up with official Soviet policy that “all races suffered in the camps.”  The policy artfully sidesteps Soviet complicity prior to 1941 and avoids recognizing the unique fate of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis and their willing collaborators.

One would be remiss without mentioning the more upbeat works in this collection.  While Grossman lived in the darkest time of modern history, he brought forth stories reflecting his humanism and compassion for both man and animal.  “The Road” is a story about the Italian participation in the German invasion of Russia.  Told from the perspective of a mule in an artillery company, it has this pack animal contemplating the meaning of infinity and solving Hamlet’s dilemma.  Grossman masterful tale combines gritty realism with elements of a fable.  He succeeds in making the reader empathetic to the mule while not making it sound contrived.  Another animal story, “The Dog”, tells the story of the first dog to successfully travel in space.

The Sistine Madonna (1513 – 14) by Raphael.  Not in the book.

“The Sistine Madonna” is a non-fiction piece devoted to Raphael’s painting.  The story relates the travels of the painting from the Dresden courts (now under Soviet control following the Second World War) and its arrival in the Hermitage for an exhibition.  Combining art history, reportage, and imaginative reverie, Grossman creates a visionary tableau in appreciation of Raphael’s work.

The Road offers an embarrassment of riches for the reader.  Newcomers to Grossman or readers familiar with his novels will appreciate the work of Robert and Elizabeth Chandler and Olga Mukovnikova.  Vasily Grossman works of literary genius place him with the great modern stylists Samuel Beckett, Truman Capote, and Thomas Pynchon.