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Yet as year succumbs to year and one narrative voice piles on top of the next, My Century becomes more than the sum of its parts. And Grass always manages to surprise. The chapters "1914" through "1918," for example, rather than being narrated by the usual suspects--young soldiers in the trenches, worried mothers at home, embittered war widows or shell-shocked veterans--are relayed by a 60s-era young woman who brings two great German chroniclers of the war together. As the now-elderly Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front) and Ernst Jünger (On the Marble Cliffs) meet and spar over the course of several meals, their reminiscences of the Great War present two radically different views. Jünger, for example, says: "I can state without compunction: As the years went by, the flame of the prolonged battle produced an increasingly pure and valiant warrior caste." Remarque's response is to laugh in Jünger's face:
Come on, Jünger! You sound like a country squire. Cannon fodder quaking in oversized boots--that's what they were. Animals. All right, maybe they were beyond fear, but death never left their minds. So what could they do? Play cards, curse, fantasise about spread-eagled women, and wage war--murder on command, that is. Which took some expertise. They discussed the advantages of the shovel over the bayonet: the shovel not only let you thrust below the chin; it gave you a good solid blow, on the diagonal, say, between neck and shoulder, which then cut right down to the chest, while the bayonet tended to get caught between the ribs and you had to go all the way up to the stomach to pull it loose.It may be Remarque and Jünger talking but the prose is pure Grass. The years leading up to and including World War II are narrated by a variety of voices: A communist in a forced-labour camp in 1936; a schoolboy playing "Spanish Civil War" with his classmates in 1937. The events of Kristallnacht, November 9, 1938, become inextricably linked with the November 9, 1989, fall of the Berlin Wall, as a German schoolteacher gets in trouble with the Parent-Teacher Association for his "obsession with the past." Indeed, it is the way Grass mixes past and present, the voices of the famous and the ordinary, that lends such power to My Century; and by the time he brings the reader up to the last weird and wonderful chapter, his century has become ours as well. --Alix Wilber --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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With narrators ranging from Kaiser Wilhelm II through working class ladies suffering the effects of runaway inflation to miners striving for better conditions, Grass presents a spectrum of Central European life. His ability in capturing the attitudes of the narrators, whether male, female, young, old, politically left, centre or right is elegant. There are no flaws in any of the portrayals. He's unrestrained in having each character speak honestly, fluently and fully. And those characters catch the flavour of each era in a faultless economy of words. With such a mob as this, meeting and hearing them a few at a time is best. You want to get to know them well, and reflect on their words and views.
Central to any account of 20th Century Germany are two global conflicts. Relating both world wars through the eyes of novelists and journalists is a master stroke. Only a writer of Grass' ability could convey the outlooks of literary giants Remarque and Junger, and do it through the mind of a modern woman. A war correspondent attends a gathering of journalists where in archetypal fashion, the old battles are re-fought, the old defeats analyzed, the old friends lightly mourned.
History, however, is not made of wars. It's ultimately the result of individuals making decisions about their lives. Grass' multi-faced account provides readers with deep insight into why Germany is so important in the world scene. He takes us into the minds of those who struggled for workers' rights. He shows us middle class men and women not quite attuned to the loss of feudal tradition with the exile of the Kaiser, facing a collapsed economy. American society, still trembling at the spectre of The Great Depression of the 1930s, never experienced spending $2 500 for an apron, or using paper money to close cracks in wallpaper. Nor was there a Western leader exhibiting the aura of redemption He exuded on becoming Chancellor. Even His opponents accepted the promised restoration of stability as a desired end. They couldn't forecast how it would be achieved. Grass takes us through the minds of those who clung to the promise until it was too late.
Grass' portrayal of modern times loses nothing in comparison to the more distant historical view given earlier. He's fully conversant with all the major issues arising at the end of the century. Americans who resent "foreign interference" in their affairs have tended to ignore the protests against Viet Nam taking place in Germany in the 1960s. The workers' unrest of the 1920s is replaced by the broader social and political upheavals of the 1970s. How many countries can match the rise of Germany's Green Party to a position of national power? Even Dolly, the cloned Scottish ewe, scampers into our view; Grass delves deeply into questions most of us comprehend poorly. Each vignette brings fresh surprises, delivered subtly but goading our need to reflect on what they describe and why he offered it to us.
This book has more levels of value than we can address here. Considering history is but a surface element in this book. Attitudes, their expression and derivation, is Grass' special talent. We need to read him for the conditions he lived through and presents for our reflection. Don't buy this book because Grass wrote it; don't buy it for its history of Germany and the 20th Century. Buy it to learn more about yourself. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]
Each of the years from 1900 until the end of the century is captured in a short story. You can dip into the book whenever and wherever you like, choosing your favourite years, significant years etc. However, I think the translation is awful. The translator is obviously American, and German slang becomes the most awfully hackneyed Yankee patois. It also seems that tricky words are just left in the vernacular. I've got a degree in German and still couldn't work out what some of the supposedly translated sentences meant. It put me off reading some of the vignettes.
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