The answer to this question requires a long look through the decades: those in which memory was denied and those in which it took shape. Through debates, memorable events, and many doubts.
I always learn a lot from your posts. Thoughtful , interesting and informative; and of course concise, even though the need for longer more detailed commentary is necessary for some topics. I look forward to Part Three. And perhaps to more multi-part posts . I’ve sure you are aware of “Final Verdict” by Tobias Buck. A fine , nuanced book which covers some of the ground you have addressed in this post. Well worth reading.
I was compiling a list of these family and non-family memoirs, and indeed Tobias Buck's name came up (but I never read it). But when I looked at the list, which also included very popular stories like Norah Krug's graphic novel Heimat, I realised that it deserved its own post. And that's a good sign - I'm still trying to figure out what the next post should be... but my feeling (dictated by my fundamental goodwill towards Germany, a country that is sometimes expected to do too much) is that, thanks to those who have written about even the most familiar events, we can still speak of a living culture of remembrance - the rest: the ceremonies, the plaques, the monuments... become urban landscape and background noise. The stories, on the other hand, remain. Which, I think, is also the reason why you write about books.
I always learn a lot from your posts. Thoughtful , interesting and informative; and of course concise, even though the need for longer more detailed commentary is necessary for some topics. I look forward to Part Three. And perhaps to more multi-part posts . I’ve sure you are aware of “Final Verdict” by Tobias Buck. A fine , nuanced book which covers some of the ground you have addressed in this post. Well worth reading.
I was compiling a list of these family and non-family memoirs, and indeed Tobias Buck's name came up (but I never read it). But when I looked at the list, which also included very popular stories like Norah Krug's graphic novel Heimat, I realised that it deserved its own post. And that's a good sign - I'm still trying to figure out what the next post should be... but my feeling (dictated by my fundamental goodwill towards Germany, a country that is sometimes expected to do too much) is that, thanks to those who have written about even the most familiar events, we can still speak of a living culture of remembrance - the rest: the ceremonies, the plaques, the monuments... become urban landscape and background noise. The stories, on the other hand, remain. Which, I think, is also the reason why you write about books.