Armando Lucas Correa's The German Girl is a book my sister recommended and sent along as part of my birthday present. I'm at a disadvantage because I read the book at camp and am writing the review a full week after completing it. Although it was a good book, it isn't resonating as solidly as if I had written about it earlier.
The German Girl is a novel based on the true story of a group of Jews who left Berlin on a ship bound for Havana, Cuba in May 1939. Correa weaves a story of two family members of similar ages at different time periods. Eleven-year-old Hannah cannot understand why others call her "unclean," when she comes from a highly respectable family. Her mother is a German heiress and an opera singer. Her father is an esteemed university professor. Even Hannah is mistaken for a pure-blooded German girl after her photo graces the cover of a propaganda magazine called "The German Girl." But the "Ogres" want to get rid of Hannah's family and her father is determined to find a way out.
Present-day Anna lives with her mother in New York. Her Cuban-immigrant father died, just before to her birth, in the 9-11 tragedy. When she receives a mysterious package from a distant relative, she embarks on a journey to Cuba to learn about her father's family and their sad story. As Hannah approaches her eighty-seventh birthday, she is eager to meet Anna and share the truth of her heritage and her home.
The German Girl reveals the tragic tale of the St. Louis. This trans-atlantic ocean liner promised Jews a safe passage to Cuba and a stopping point on their path to greater freedom in the United States. Unfortunately, despite the extravagant price of passage, the 900-plus passengers who arrived at Havana's harbor learned they could not dock unless the Cuban secretary of state and labor issued their landing permits. With insufficient documents and funds, most of the passengers ended up returning to Germany.
I thought the first sentence was stunning: "I was almost twelve years old when I decided to kill my parents." Now that's an intriguing line! It sucked me into the story and held me fast. The book was well-written and well-translated. However, I was disappointed that the characters didn't display more resilience in the face of hardship and tragedy. I think plenty of World War II stories emphasize the power of the human spirit to endure and triumph despite tragedy.
I also had a hard time differentiating the two separate stories at the beginning. Perhaps this was because there were too many striking similarities between their tales, almost to the point of stretching my "willful suspension of disbelief." Hannah and Anna both strike up a steadfast friendship with a boy. Hannah's best friend, Leo, promises they will one day marry. Anna becomes friends with a spunky boy during her visit to Cuba and receives her first kiss. Both girls carry many responsibilities despite their young age because their mothers cannot face their grief. The stories continue to parallel one another as the different political climates play out.
Even still, I would say it was a worthwhile and enjoyable read. I had never heard of the St. Louis crossing or of Cuba's failure to offer sanctuary. What tragic conditions people have faced because of political ideologies and unrest! And are we any better off now? Or will history repeat itself in a myriad of ways?
5 comments:
Although I liked several things about the book, I actually recommended it to you because it surprised me so much that it was an International Bestseller. I'm trying to remember everything about it, but I remember feeling very sad that the ending wasn't more positive. I felt the characters should have had better life lessons or ability to turn their negative into positive. I read that and All The Light We Cannot See (a pulitzer prize winner) on the same vacation and felt both were a bit depressing.
Dawn - Thanks for sending it and recommending it. You know how I love to receive books. I agree that it seemed the characters should have provided more take-away from their experiences than they did. I loved All the Light We Cannot See. I don't remember thinking it depressing, but I do know that when I read it a second time for book club and participated in discussion, I ended up not liking it as much as I had when I read it initially.
Funny - I did like All the Light We Cannot See far more. I just loved Marie-Laure and the mystery of what would happen to her at different turns throughout the war. I expected a more positive outlook from her at the end. I just felt that would have fit her character more. I ended a bit shocked by the girl that I had pictured in my head and had grown so fondly of because of her character and the way she carried herself.
I have stuck to Danielle Steel, Mary Higgins Clark and Karen Kingsbury for years and am just beginning to venture out. I know - pathetic!
Dawn - Yes, I loved Marie-Laure as well and the climactic build-up to where the two young lives intersected. You're not pathetic at all to stick with authors you love and trust! I've had to cast aside two audio books recently because of the trashiness (sad, too, when the trashy bits only come after I've invested two or three cds into the book). I just picked up the Karen Kingsbury novel Mom gave you one Christmas (the one about Joy) because I saw it at the library!
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