Reunion

Review

This is a tiny little book which I bought after seeing it mentioned a few times in Guibert’s The Mausoleum of Lovers. There, Guibert states that he spent the last 50 pages reading through tears. I did not have the same emotional reaction, maybe because the story is not quite what I was expecting. However, it is still affecting. Difficult not to consider analogues between the childhood phase of the book and the current condition of the United States.

At only 112 pages (and my copy has somewhat larger than normal text and generous margins), it can be read in a sitting and that is probably how it should be done. Quite good, though something I think I will need to re-read to have my appreciation for what it is outgrow my sense of loss for what I was expecting.

Notes

• p34 - I can’t remember much of what Konradin said to me that day or what I said to him. All I know is that we walked up and down for an hour, like two young lovers, still nervous, still afraid of each other, but somehow I knew that this was only a beginning and that from now on my life would no longer be empty and dull, but full of hope and richness for us both.
• p45 - It seemed to me that there were just two alternatives – either no God existed or there did exist a deity who was monstrous if powerful and futile if powerless. Once and for all I jettisoned all belief in a benevolent master-mind.
• p58 - when the Zionist mentioned Hitler and asked my father if this would not shake his confidence, my father said, ‘Not in the least. I know my Germany. This is a temporary illness, something like measles, which will pass as soon as the economic situation improves. Do you really believe that the compatriots of Goethe and Schiller, Kant and Beethoven will fall for this rubbish? How dare you insult the memory of twelve thousand Jews who died for our country? Für unsere Heimat?’
• p99 - From then on I avoided him. It would only have embarrassed him to be seen with me and I expected he would be grateful for my decision. I was alone now.
• p105 - So, in my heart of hearts I look on myself as a failure. Not that this really matters. Sub specie aeternitatis we all, without exception, are failures.
  • TB: Under the guise of eternity