Aimée & Jaguar: Eine Liebesgeschichte, Berlin 1943

by Erica Fischer

Berlin 1942. Lilly Wust, 29, verheiratet, vier Kinder, führt das Leben von Millionen deutscher Frauen. Doch dann lernt sie die 21-jährige Felice Schragenheim kennen.Es ist Liebe fast auf den ersten Blick. Aimée & Jaguar schmieden Zukunftspläne, schreiben einander Gedichte, Liebesbriefe, schließen einen Ehevertrag. Als Jaguar-Felice ihrer Geliebten gesteht, dass sie Jüdin ist, bindet dieses gefährliche Geheimnis die beiden Frauen noch enger aneinander. Doch ihr Glück währt nur kurz. Am 21. August 1944 wird die Jüdin Felice verhaftet und deportiert.
Erica Fischer ließ sich von der 80-jährigen Lilly Wust die Geschichte erzählen und verarbeitete sie zu einem eindringlichen Zeugnis. Nach Erscheinen des Buches 1994 meldeten sich weitere Zeitzeuginnen, und so konnte in der vorliegenden Ausgabe neues Material hinzugefügt werden.

Genres: LGBT, Queer, Nonfiction, History, Lesbian, Biography, Romance

312 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1994

Reviews

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Anti-Semitic, Nazi housewife falls for young Jewish woman sounds like a dubious plotline from the kind of Holocaust-porn made popular by the commercial success of novels like The Tattooist of Auschwitz, but Fischer’s book’s based on actual events. The love affair between Lilly (Elizabeth) Wust and Felice Schragenheim was brought to light in the 1990s by feminist author Erica Fischer. In early 1940s' Berlin, Lilly was an officer’s wife, as well as four small children, the couple shared anti-Semitic prejudice and Nazi affiliations. Then along came Inge Wolf who introduced Lilly to someone who shattered Lilly’s preconceptions. Inge was part of Berlin’s underground, lesbian community, something Lilly found fascinating. Lilly was charmed and intrigued first by Inge’s circle and then by one woman in particular, Felice. It was only after Lilly and Felice got together that Lilly discovered Felice was Jewish.

However, anyone wanting to immerse themselves in an inevitably-tragic love story will be disappointed here, Fischer’s approach to her material’s less straightforward than that. She shifts between narrative reconstructions and accounts drawn from interview transcripts, historical research, letters and diaries. Right from the beginning, when Lilly refuses to accept the way Inge characterises Lilly’s apartment as dominated by Nazi symbols, it’s clear Fischer’s interested in the broader implications of Lilly’s version of the past. What it may or may not demonstrate about the reliability of memory; the difficulty of using oral histories to reach some form of incontestable truth; and the wider issue of Germany’s so-called coming-to-terms with the past (Vergangenheitsbewältigung). Fischer’s as much interrogator as chronicler of Lilly’s recollections, she’s obviously sceptical about the image Lilly’s seeking to project. It’s an intriguing perspective with a great deal of potential but the outcome's disappointing - I couldn’t help wondering what this might have been like penned by a more skilful and intellectually- sophisticated writer like Janet Malcolm. Many of the sections fictionalising Lily and Felice’s relationship tend to alternate between a dry recitation of facts and overblown, almost syrupy prose. Passages detailing the political and historical backdrop to Lily and Felice’s lives are frequently informative but a number are slightly dull or unnecessarily convoluted. Having said all that, I still found this worth reading, as much for the questions it raises as for how it tackles them, as well as for the glimpse it provides of an under-represented chapter of lesbian history.

Rating: 2.5

[Eva Celeste · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although I agree with all the criticisms lobbed at this book by other reviewers below, I nonetheless give it 5 stars because it fascinated me, due simply to the heartbreaking, scandalous, and improbable tale underlying it.

As others have written, Aimee may be flighty and appear not take the plight of her lover seriously, but I feel it is easy to judge her retrospectively. I don't believe she behaves differently than many people in the throes of a deep infatuation; however, given that she is infatuated with a Jew living underground in Nazi Germany, her foibles seem much more weighty to the reader. The book is heavy on quotes from love letters, which I skimmed as they became repetitive. I agree that the author has a bias against Lilly Wust- as she herself states in the epilogue- and this colors her tone throughout the book. The author is allowed to have a point of view, though, even if she is writing non-fiction. She presents the facts in such a way that I was able to draw my own conclusions about the characters' motivations.

All in all, I felt the book lent yet another valuable perspective in the larger body of personal stories of the Holocaust. It was difficult to not to feel Felice's personality shining through.

[Anja · Rating 5 out of 5]

it was amazing.. I came to this book from the movie, and while I started to read it imagining the actresses of the movie as the characters in the book, I ended up with having the real pictures of Aimée and Jaguar in my head while reading (there are heartbreakingly good photos of them at the end of the book). at times it was tough, cause even though I knew how this tragic story was gonna end, I was still hoping, together with Aimée. the most tragic thing about this book though is that Jaguar's fate was the fate of so fucking many people - excuse the swearing. their letters and diary entries often made me smile inside, cause they are such good prose. and their poetry is fab as well. oh and the book also taught me A LOT about Nazi Germany and concentration camps, even though I thought I knew quite something already. also to hear about the war from the perspective of a Nazi woman was interesting.. I still feel so sorry for Aimée and I know that this should not have happened. read this book, guys, it will make you a better person.

[Bill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wonderful! 3.5/5 STARS

How fortuitous that I should read this book three weeks before the United States Supreme Court’s landmark decision on same sex marriage! I’m unclear how it landed on my To Read shelf … I think Amazon’s (Goodread’s parent company) algorithms suggested it to me while I was reading the Miseducation of Cameron Post. (I loved that story too!)

Anyway, I’m usually not drawn to love stories or romances but this one piqued my interest with great earnest. My unending fascination with all things WWII lured me in for a closer look at this wonderful story about boundless and passionate love during one of the darkest times in human history; a true story of unbridled love in a time of inhumane cruelty and genocidal hatred.

The story takes place in Berlin 1943 through the end of WWII. Nazi Germany is well into the prosecution of the Final Solution, systematically, relentlessly and ruthlessly moving the Jewish population out of Berlin, herding them into rail cattle cars destined for concentration camps far from the capitol of the Third Reich. The Allies begin to make periodic bombing runs near the city, and the German Wehrmacht has suffered a crushing defeat in the Battle of Stalingrad, but the Nazi propaganda machine reassures the German population that victory is only a matter of time. As the tide of the war turns from German blitzkrieg, conquest and repression to retreat, defense, defeat, and surrender, life in the once prosperous German city becomes harsh and unforgiving under the onslaught of relentless bombing and eventual conquest by the converging Allied forces.

Under these extreme, desperate and violent conditions, Elizabeth Wust and Felice Schragenheim fall deeply in love.

Elizabeth Wust, also known as Lilly and Aimee, is the wife of Nazi officer Gunter Wust and mother of their four boys. She resides in downtown Berlin and has made many female acquaintances while her husband is away in military service. Her apartment is seemingly endlessly active with the comings and goings of her friends, many of whom are Jews living underground or as inconspicuously as possible from Nazi authorities. (In 1981 at age 68 Lilly was awarded the Federal Service Cross for sheltering and caring for four Jewish women in her apartment in Berlin)

Felice Schragenheim, also known as Jaguar, ‘Lice, Fice and Putz, is a Jewish “U-Boater” living underground in Berlin constantly eluding and evading the ever tightening grip of the Gestapo and Nazi SS.

By Lilly’s ninth wedding anniversary in March 1943, her marriage with Gunter is empty and tenuous. Gunter’s infidelity is frequent and public. Lilly has an affair with a former co-worker at Deutsche Bank that results in one of her four children. Her emotional connection to her children remains strong despite her eventual divorce from Gunter.

Inge Wolf, completing her government ordered compulsory one year of domestic service working for Lilly Wust, is one of Felice’s many friends. While Felice waits on the sidewalk outside Lilly’s apartment for Inge to finish her work, Lilly invites her inside out of the cold. Their attraction is instant and intense!

"I got nothing at all from my men. Men took their pleasure with me and I felt used. With Felice it was totally different. She was my counterpart, my complement, literally. I felt I was both myself and Felice. We were a mirror image. She needed only to touch me and I …When she kissed me I surrendered to her completely. Sex was pleasing for the first time in my life. I had never found men attractive. I was built wrong somehow, but I didn’t know that…with Felice I myself could be the one who loved. And then this sense of belonging together unconditionally … Though I was the older one, I always had the feeling I was the younger one. She controlled me completely, she did. But it was wonderful! She always wore the pants. After all, it was she who had seduced me."

While the core of the story is a straight forward historical account of a lesbian love affair in the 1940s in Nazi Germany of all places, the pages are filled with passionate poems and love letters written by Aimee and Jaguar to each other, interviews with Lilly, her children and friends of Lilly and Felice and black and white photographs dating back to 1919 through 1993.







My emotional investment in the story grew in size and scope as the intensity and passion of their love constantly collided with the dark, horrifying omnipresence of Nazi pursuit and prosecution of the Jews in Berlin. Felice is forever on the run or in the shadows to elude capture and Lilly is ever vigilant of suspicious and informant neighbors. Despite the great risks of arrest, physical abuse and deportation, the attraction between the two is undeniable and relentless, leaping off each page at me as I winded my way to the sorrowful ending.

Many reviewers have criticized the book for some awkward translation from German to English. Others criticized Lilly’s naiveté and recklessness in loving ergo mortally endangering Felice and the author’s apparent negative and critical opinion of Lilly.

Honestly, I didn’t dig that deep for any philosophical or moral judgments of the people in this story. I took it at face value – an emotional and heartbreaking lesbian love story in a place and time where Jews and homosexuals were deemed subhuman and disposable. While this book certainly is not for everyone, it resonated with me in a very emotional and heartfelt way.

[Alaina · Rating 3 out of 5]

I put off reading this book for six years, because I expected to be emotionally devastated. The story should be devastating. I'm not sure why, when I finally read it, I more or less responded with an emotional shrug. Is it the poor translation? Perhaps the original author was a less-than-compelling writer? I cannot pinpoint it. I suspect the answer may lie in the epilogue, where Erica Fischer tells about her experience researching the book. She was frustrated, eventually even hostile towards the elderly Lilly (who does, I admit, sound like a person I would not care for). Lilly clung all her life to that year with Felice, and seemed to forget or ignore everything that didn't fit into her neat personal narrative. Initial Nazi sympathies, the fact that Felice was too good and too vibrant for her, and, most frustrating of all, her unwillingness to move past her wartime experiences and live in her present.

These days we would most likely put Lilly in therapy for PTSD. What moves me most is not Felice's death, though the circumstances are so narrow that throughout the book I was thinking "surely, she will not be taken away and exterminated in the last months of the war." What are the chances! No, what made me saddest was the lifelong depression that Lilly suffered. For that, she got little sympathy. Not even the person who cared enough to write about her life gave her much sympathy. I feel sympathy for her, and wish- oh, don't we all- to rewrite that history.

I preceded this book with In the Garden of Beasts by Larson. Larson's book is well-written and fascinating, and I am sorry to say that in direct comparison, Aimee & Jaguar pales.

P.S. I do think the Aimee & Jaguar love story is great. Lesbians in the 40s! In that aspect it was totally fascinating.

[Matthew · Rating 2 out of 5]

As with any WWII story involving a Jewish person living in Germany, it's bound to be sad. I felt connected to the characters, but the author's style really made this a tough read. The story was set up like a documentary, only in book form. There would be bits of prose, excerpts of diaries and letters and then straight dialogues from interviews. These elements were not synthesized in a way that made reading it enjoyable.
This is a story of a young German mother who meets a Jewish woman and begins to house her. They fall in love rather quickly, since Elisabeth (or Lilly, or Aimée) was unhappy in her marriage to a Nazi soldier. Felice (or Jaguar), the illegal Jew, lives happily with her lover until, of course, she is captured by the Gestapo. The struggles that follow, and Lilly's brave attempts to help Felice make up the bulk of the story. Reading about the lives of Jews in Nazi-era Berlin was of course depressing, but the most chilling part of this read came at the very end, where the author describes the living conditions of a hopeless, possibly deranged Lilly in her old age.
Perhaps a WWII enthusiast would better enjoy this book, but again the writing style just didn't do it for me.

[Rachael Eyre · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've wanted to read this for years- I came across the story in a magazine and found it heartbreaking. So to say I feel disillusioned is something of an understatement.

My 3 star rating is solely for the love story and the girls themselves. What I found very difficult to swallow was the author's clear dislike/disdain for Lily- a nice attitude for a biographer! Yes, I can understand her anger towards Germans of the period, but seeing as Lily went some way towards redeeming herself, I found her hostile attitude (plus the clumsy way she linked it to the situation in Bosnia) insufferable. I thought her speculations about the relationship not lasting were tasteless in the extreme- who made her God?

It's such a shame, because in the hands of a better, less biased author, this could've been great. If anybody else writes a book on the subject, I intend to read it- and I'll try to catch the film too.

[legolasik · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finally, I plucked up the courage to read this book, given to me by a dear friend years ago. I knew it was going to hit very close to home and I didn't want to reopen the old wounds, for years I put if off, but I'm glad I did read it eventually.

Apart from the love story of two women, this is a story of how life was in Berlin before, during, and after the war. This is a story of the Jewish community and their struggle. This is a story of how people can turn a blind eye. A story of how war affects those fortunate enough to survive.

As to the love story, I look at Lilly and Felice and see myself. We had much the same hopes and dreams for the future, which never came true. We wrote each other letters and poems, spoke of never-ending love, were infatuated and blind. Though ours was a merciful fate (no one died), we parted disillusioned and bitter. Would it be the same for Aimée and Jaguar? Nobody knows that.

I feel very sorry for Lilly, and I hope that the rest of her life, though not easy, had at least some happiness in it. I mourn Felice and all the others, far too many, who perished at the hands of the antisemites. And I am grateful to the author Erica Fischer for telling their story.

[Bloodorange · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you intend to read a book about what Nazizm did to people, make it this one. On the one hand, it's very detailed, but not intended to shock; rather respectful and informative. On the other, it is a study a study of maddening love that Aimée throws herself into the more ardently, the more difficult the circumstances, until the loss of a loved one leaves her with no resources to pick up the pieces and her life becomes little more than vegetation.

[Linn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I dont even know where to start with this. But all I can say that this story was both soo beautiful, heartbreaking and terrifying! I actually started it this summer, and then had to take a break because it made me feel too much, seriously. I highly recommend it and Its such an important story, and these women deserve to have their story told. But I also have to say that reading about what all these people went through during this time, all the loss, hate and fear, made me sick. So I needed to take a break while reading, for 2 months... But yeah, Its such an important story and very beautifully told! ❤️ And I actually think everyone should read it once in their life...

[Monika · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me so long to finish this book because it just made me so angry. And so sad. But these stories must be read, and must be remembered.

“It makes me sad sometimes,” Lilly says. “Now it’s no longer my story”

[Wortmagie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Homosexualität war im nationalsozialistischen Deutschland strafbar. Im Dritten Reich betrachtete man schwule Männer als entartet und als eine Bedrohung für den Staat, da man fürchtete, sie versuchten, interne Strukturen zu unterwandern und diese von innen heraus zu zerstören. Seit 1934 wurden Homosexuelle verstärkt verfolgt, interniert und ermordet. Laut Paragraf 175 des Reichsstrafgesetzbuches genügten bereits „begehrliche Blicke“, um eine Verhaftung und teilweise sogar eine sofortige Deportation zu rechtfertigen.

Die Zahl der Verurteilungen stieg bis Kriegsbeginn 1939 stetig an. Wikipedia verzeichnet für das Jahr 1935, in dem §175 in Kraft trat, 2.363 Schuldsprüche – 1938 waren es 9.536. Männer, die auf sogenannte „Umerziehungsmaßnahmen“ nicht wie gewünscht reagierten, wurden in Konzentrationslager verschleppt und gezwungen, ein Symbol zu tragen, das ihre sexuelle Orientierung für alle sichtbar machte: den rosa Winkel. Wie viele schwule Männer in den KZs umgebracht wurden, ist rückblickend schwer zu ermitteln, weil nicht klar ist, wie viele von ihnen für ihre Zugehörigkeit zu einer anderen verfolgten Bevölkerungsgruppe interniert wurden. Schätzungen zufolge wurden etwa 10.000 Schwule in die KZs gebracht, von denen circa 53% die Qualen der Lager nicht überlebten.

Paradoxerweise richtete sich der Hass der Nazis primär auf schwule Männer, nicht auf Homosexuelle im Allgemeinen. Lesbische Frauen waren von Paragraf 175 nicht betroffen; es existieren allerdings Hinweise darauf, dass Lesben aus anderen Gründen inhaftiert und in den KZs für entsprechendes Verhalten bestraft wurden. Dennoch zweifelt der Historiker Alexander Zinn an, dass eine gezielte Verfolgung homosexueller Frauen stattfand. Seine These ist meiner Meinung nach nicht von der Hand zu weisen, was ich in der Position der Frau im Nationalsozialismus begründet sehe. Das Dritte Reich war strikt patriarchalisch. Frauen hatten sich um Küche, Kinder und Kirche zu kümmern und sollten sich sonst bevorzugt im Hintergrund halten. Ich glaube, dass die alten Säcke der Parteispitze um Hitler gar nicht auf die Idee kamen, Frauen könnten so etwas wie eine individuelle sexuelle Identität besitzen. Ich kann mir gut vorstellen, dass ihr völliges Unverständnis des weiblichen Geschlechts, die vollkommene Reduzierung der Frau auf ihre Rolle als Mutter, Ehe- und Hausfrau, Lesben vor einer dem Paragrafen 175 ähnlichen Gesetzgebung schützte. Den Nazis fehlte einfach die Fantasie. Doch selbst wenn ihnen bewusst war, dass sich einige Frauen zum eigenen Geschlecht hingezogen fühlten, sahen sie darin eventuell nicht dieselbe Bedrohung, die sie in schwulen Männern vermuteten.

Woran auch immer es lag, homosexuelle Frauen konnten ihre Orientierung freier ausleben als homosexuelle Männer, obwohl Denunzierungen selbstverständlich möglich waren. Wie hoch das Risiko konkret war, hing stark davon ab, wie stabil und zuverlässig das soziale Netz der Frauen war. Wer sich in einem eingeschworenen Freundeskreis bewegte und sich sonst nichts zu Schulden kommen ließ, war vor einer Entdeckung relativ sicher. Diese Faktenlage erklärt, wieso Lilly Wust und Felice Schragenheim verhältnismäßig offen in einer lesbischen Beziehung leben konnten.

Elisabeth Wust und Felice Rachel Schragenheim lernten einander am 27. November 1942 im Café Berlin am Bahnhof Zoo kennen. Lilly war 29 Jahre alt, Mutter von vier Söhnen und mehr oder weniger unglücklich mit Günther Wust verheiratet, der als Soldat in Bernau stationiert und im zivilen Leben Bankbeamter war. Felice war 20 Jahre alt und wollte Journalistin werden. Sie war Jüdin, was sie Lilly anfangs verschwieg. Es war für Felice längst gefährlich geworden, sich in Berlin aufzuhalten, doch ihre Ausreiseversuche waren alle fehlgeschlagen. Anfang Oktober 1942 erhielt sie einen Deportationsbescheid, fingierte ihren Selbstmord und verschwand im Untergrund. Deshalb stellte sie sich Lilly als Felice Schrader vor. Die junge Hausfrau und Mutter gefiel ihr und sie begann beinahe sofort, um Lilly zu werben. Dass diese verheiratet war, schien sie nicht zu kümmern. Lilly fühlte sich geschmeichelt und empfand wohl auch eine gewisse Neugier, wies Felices Annäherungsversuche jedoch vorerst zurück. Erst, als Lilly im März 1943 mit einer akuten Kiefernvereiterung ins Krankenhaus eingeliefert wurde, wo Felice sie regelmäßig mit einem großen Strauß roter Rosen besuchte, gab sie nach und stellte sich ihren unbekannten Gefühlen. Am 29. März, Lillys neuntem Hochzeitstag, küssten sich die beiden Frauen zum ersten Mal.

Ihre Liebe entbrannte heiß und leidenschaftlich. Sie schrieben einander glühende Liebesbriefe und Gedichte, in denen sie sich gegenseitig mit zärtlichen Spitznamen ansprachen. Lilly war Aimée, Felice war Jaguar. Schnell begannen sie, sich als Ehepaar zu verstehen. Sie wohnten zusammen bei Lilly, die sich am 12. Oktober 1943 scheiden ließ. Günther Wust war bereits im August nach Ungarn eingezogen worden. Obwohl sich die Situation in Berlin zuspitzte, Lebensmittel knapp wurden, der Strom immer häufiger ausfiel und sie die Nächte in Luftschutzbunkern verbringen mussten, lebten sie wie berauscht von ihren Emotionen. Kurz nach ihrem Einzug hatte Felice Lilly ihre jüdische Identität gestanden. Die Gefahr, in der Felice schwebte, war beiden wohl bewusst, aber wirklich ernst nahmen sie sie nicht. Die lebenslustige Felice weigerte sich, sich in ihrer gemeinsamen Wohnung zu verschanzen. Sie ging weiterhin aus und half dem jüdischen Widerstand, fand 1944 mit gefälschten Papieren sogar eine Anstellung als Stenotypistin bei der National-Zeitung und leitete alle Informationen, die sie dort sammeln konnte, an ihre Freunde im Untergrund weiter, ohne Rücksicht auf ihre eigene Sicherheit zu nehmen.

Es kann lediglich gemutmaßt werden, wer Felice letzten Endes verriet. Sie wurde am 21. August 1944 von der Gestapo in Lillys Wohnung festgenommen. Die uniformierten Männer hatten ein Foto von Felice bei sich, von dem es angeblich nur drei Abzüge gab: einen besaß Felice selbst, der zweite wurde von einer ebenfalls jüdischen Freundin verwahrt und der dritte gehörte Lilly. Noch während der Befragung versuchte Felice, zu flüchten, wurde allerdings schnell wieder eingefangen und abgeführt. Sie wurde als Jüdin verhaftet, nicht als lesbische Frau.

Die Gestapo brachte Felice in das Judensammellager im Jüdischen Krankenhaus. Dort besuchte Lilly ihre Geliebte mehrfach, bis Felice am 08. September 1944 in das Ghetto Theresienstadt deportiert wurde. Lilly war außer sich und beschloss, selbst nach Theresienstadt zu fahren, obwohl Freunde von Felice sie beschworen, die Reise zu unterlassen. Nicht nur brachte sie sich selbst in Gefahr, es bestand auch das Risiko, dass ihr Besuch Felice zusätzlich schaden könnte. Aber Lilly wollte nicht hören und bestieg am 27. September mit einem falsch ausgestellten Grenzübergangsschein, warmer Kleidung und Lebensmitteln im Gepäck den Zug nach Tschechien. Sie drang bis zur Kommandantur der deutschen Dienststelle vor, scheiterte jedoch an SS-Oberscharführer Rudolf Heindl, der sie wutentbrannt vor die Tür setzte. Resigniert machte sie sich auf die lange Heimreise.

Felices weiterer Weg durch die Tötungsmaschinerie des Dritten Reiches ist durch Briefe und Postkarten belegt, die sie an Lilly und Freunde schickte. Am 09. Oktober 1944 transportierte man sie von Theresienstadt nach Auschwitz. Anfang November 1944 wurde sie in ein Lager bei Breslau in Polen gebracht. Ein Brief an Lillys Eltern, der am 14. November eintraf und auf den 03. November datiert war, trug den Poststempel der kleinen Stadt Trachenberg, heute Żmigród. Darin berichtete sie, dass sie aufgrund einer leichten Scharlachinfektion im Krankenhaus läge und hoffte, bis zum 09. Dezember auf der Station verbleiben zu können. In den folgenden Tagen schrieb sie einige lange Briefe an Lilly, in denen sie Neuigkeiten von Zuhause und Lebensmittel erbat. Ihre letzte Nachricht aus dem Krankenhaus schrieb sie am 14. oder 15. November 1944. Lillys Antwortschreiben kamen nicht mehr an. Felice wurde in das KZ Groß-Rosen verschleppt.

In Berlin wurde Lilly zu einer Befragung durch die Gestapo am 13. Dezember 1944 vorgeladen. Stundenlang musste sie sich intime Fragen, kaum verhohlene Drohungen und Vorwürfe gefallen lassen. Doch sie hielt dicht. Sie behauptete steif und fest, nicht gewusst zu haben, dass Felice Jüdin war und leugnete ihre romantische Beziehung. Ihr missglückter Besuch in Theresienstadt wurde ebenfalls thematisiert, aber Lilly beharrte darauf, dass sie lediglich einer Freundin Kleidung und Lebensmittel bringen wollte. Letztendlich ließ man sie mit einer Verwarnung davonkommen. Sie musste unterschreiben, dass man sie als Mutter von vier kleinen Kindern verschonte, ihr „judenfreundliches Verhalten“ jedoch eigentlich eine Deportation ins KZ rechtfertigen und sie bei der geringsten Verfehlung inhaftiert würde.

Das letzte persönliche Lebenszeichen von Felice traf am 05. Januar 1945 ein. Der an Lillys Eltern adressierte Umschlag enthielt zwei Briefe, einer davon richtete sich an Lilly und war auf den 26. Dezember 1944 datiert. Felice bedankte sich für das letzte Päckchen und berichtete, wie kalt es bei ihr sei. Sie schloss mit Liebesschwüren und Küssen.

Die Rote Armee erreichte Berlin am 02. Mai 1945. Im Chaos der Befreiung schaffte es Lilly, für sich, ihre Kinder und drei jüdische Frauen, die sie seit Februar bei sich versteckte, eine Unterkunft zu organisieren, bis sie zurück in ihre Wohnung konnten. Sie schreckte nicht davor zurück, sich dafür Felices gelben Judenstern anzuheften.
Im Juni begann sie, Felice in den Straßen der Hauptstadt zu suchen. Sie war sicher, dass ihr Jaguar unter den KZ-Heimkehrern sein würde, die Stück für Stück eintrafen. Sie ließ Felice im Radio ausrufen, erkundigte sich bei Häftlingen, die selbst in Groß-Rosen waren, schaltete die Organisation der Vereinten Nationen für Hilfe und Wiedergutmachung ein und hängte Suchanzeigen aus. Im August erfuhr sie, dass Felice Groß-Rosen mit der Auflösung des Lagers im Januar 1945 verlassen hatte und nach Bergen-Belsen geschickt wurde. Dort verliert sich ihre Spur. Die etwa 700 Frauen, die nach Bergen-Belsen transportiert wurden, erlagen laut einem Brief, den Lilly an Felices Schwester Irene schrieb, fast alle dem Fleckfieber (damals auch Hungertyphus genannt). Aber Lilly konnte nicht aufgeben. Sie hoffte und wartete, suchte die Nähe der jüdischen Gemeinde und wäre wohl konvertiert, hätte die Synagoge diesen Schritt nicht verhindert. Sie identifizierte sich mehr und mehr mit der Religion, derentwegen ihr Felice entrissen worden war und schimpfte auf „die Deutschen“. Doch ihre Geliebte fand nicht zu ihr zurück. Felice Schragenheim wurde am 14. Februar 1948 offiziell für tot erklärt. Ihr Todestag und -ort sind bis heute unbekannt. Für die Akten wurde der Zeitpunkt ihres Todes auf den 31. Dezember 1944 festgelegt.

Lilly erholte sich nie von Felices Verlust. Sie verarmte und vereinsamte, versuchte mehrmals, sich das Leben zu nehmen. Ihre Erinnerungen verwahrte sie in ihrem sogenannten „Tränenbüchlein“, eine fein säuberliche Sammlung aller Briefe und Gedichte, die sie und Felice einander schrieben, sowie ihrer Tagebucheinträge. Am 21. September 1981 wurde ihr das Bundesverdienstkreuz am Bande für „Unbesungene Helden“ verliehen – eine Ehrung, weil sie vier Jüdinnen versteckt hatte. Möglicherweise war es diese Auszeichnung, die das Interesse der jüdischen Autorin Erica Fischer weckte. Sie suchte Lilly Wust auf und führte ab Winter 1991 Gespräche mit ihr, um ihre tragische Liebesgeschichte zu rekonstruieren. Lillys „Tränenbüchlein“ war hierbei natürlich eine große Hilfe, aber auch das Gedächtnis der mittlerweile fast 80-Jährigen funktionierte tadellos. Das Buch, das durch die Aufarbeitung ihrer Vergangenheit entstand und 1994 erstveröffentlicht wurde, trägt den Titel „Aimée & Jaguar: Eine Liebesgeschichte, Berlin 1943“.

Die vollständige Rezension findet ihr auf meinem Blog, da sie leider zu lang für Goodreads ist: wortmagieblog

[mar🪷🪼 · Rating 3 out of 5]

this book was definitely interesting. it was sad, as excepted, but i just didn’t like the set up. i did learn more about the way if life during the war and the holocaust and how germans had to deal with as opposed to life in concentration camps. i cant say i liked it but i did learn something, so that is something.

[Circe · Rating 3 out of 5]

"I would rather experience great unhappiness and be destroyed by it than live in moderate happiness to a moderate end."

I am deeply unnerved by this book and sadly disappointed.

First, I absolutely adored this story, and I hate myself for hyping it up so much after watching the movie. After hunting down the English edition for so long (sadly my Deutsch is, admittedly, too scheiße to read the original German, despite my many years of study), I suppose I simply had too many great expectations.

Fundamentally, this is an extremely significant story that simply had to be told. I thank Fischer for this, but I would've strongly suggested she approached the writing of Aimée and Jaguar a lot differently. The tragic love story of two women in Nazi Germany should not, in my opinion, read like a fact book. Consequently, I felt little-to-no empathy towards the main characters--our protagonists Lilly and Felice--for most of the story, despite this improving in the latter half of the book. I felt the most for Felice and however little fault this is of the author, I left this book wanted to know more about her. Otherwise, this book read very much like a documentary; it compiles transcripts from various characters while stringing together letters, excerpts and a on top of it all: a narrative. It was far too muddled and it stifled the emotions I expected to feel during this novel. Although this may very well be the harsh consequences of the translation, it nevertheless does not change the format.

I don't want to blast this book apart, because I really do find the story a very fascinating one and it is collected well. I'm sure most of the book is based upon fragments of fact and Wurst's recollection, so in this instance Fischer does quite well to piece everything together. I'm also a huge fan of luscious lesbian Berlin and the lives of lesbians throughout history, therefore I found this a very fascinating read in terms of how people handled it back then and how the protagonists themselves reacted to having such feelings. On a lighter note, it did fill me with happiness to see the way the family and relatives within the book reacted towards Lilly and Felice's relationship. It was a heart-warming thing to read about, especially given the time period.

I suppose what I'm most unnerved about is the author's treatment of Elisabeth (Lilly) Wurst. I'm not so much upset, more confused, simply by the epilogue. I understand Wurst may not have been wholly truthful in her recollections (after all, some things are quite hard to admit; we've all made mistakes) but this was no reason to react so harshly. It seemed very strange and peculiar, as if she were saying Lilly deserved no sympathy due to her heritage being that of strict German and not Jewish. It just read wrongly.

Overall, I will pocket this book for years to come. It is a significant story I will keep with me for a long time. Meanwhile, however, I will delight in the movie more times than I ever will the book.

[Christina (A Reader of Fictions) · Rating 3 out of 5]

The World War II time period is one of my favorites to read about and study, so I was very curious to read this title. While I do not think the author's writing was very good (quite dry and boring), the story was astounding. In none of my other reading, courses or film watching have I heard a story from a similar lens. The lesbian angle is new of course, but so were all of the details about the Jews who managed to keep living underground (as it were) in Berlin throughout the conflict.

Much of the story, thank goodness, is told in snippets from Aimée's diary, Jaguar's poems, letters and interviews with the people who were still alive when this book was being constructed in the early 1990s. The number of primary sources included in the tale is unique, as well.

The epilogue of the book consists of Erica Fischer's comments on the creation of the book, most of which is a diatribe of Lilly. She does not trust Lilly, the main source for most of the recounted memories, because Lilly apparently knew her story too well and left gaps of time out. I cannot help but wonder if this is why her writing is so stilted and I did not care much for Aimée or Jaguar on a close level; I wanted them to live, of course, but I was not emotionally invested. I think Fischer's mistrust and judgment came into her writing and storytelling. For all that the cover names this a love story, she has her own opinions about that and it is quite evident.

After the war, Lilly wanted to convert to Judaism and thought of herself as a Jewess, about which Fischer has this to say: "I do not grant her the status of victim. I guard the line that runs between her and Felice, my mother, and myself obdurately, protective of my small piece of identity" (271). I leave this book skeptical of Erica Fischer as a historian, as she seems to biased, in this tale at least. Still, I am happy to have read it, if only for its unique historical perspective.

[miomiomarthe · Rating 4 out of 5]

weiß gar nicht wieso ich so lange gebraucht hab, weil die story wirklich so packend und emotional geschrieben ist (geht um 2 gay girlies in den 1940er jahren in berlin, eine der beiden ist jüdin, perfekte voraussetzung für eine devastating story)

Das ganze buch ist so informativ und dabei aber auch (oder vllt gerade deshalb?) soooo ergreifend und durch die ganzen briefe der beiden geliebten aneinander so poetisch und schmerzhaft schön
die tatsache dass das alles eine echte geschichte ist und am ende auch noch bilder der personen, briefe und dokumente beigefügt sind macht’s irgendwie so so nahbar, auch dass die ganzen orte in berlin so genau beschrieben sind macht’s irgendwie noch viel persönlicher wenn man so actual orte im kopf hat während mans liest

schöne lovestory in einer schrecklichen zeit, manche passagen meiner meinung nach etw. unnötig weit ausgeholt, deshalb keine 5 sterne

[Joshie · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Why am I writing all of this -- I love you so much, in a way I have never felt, never known before. Now I am tormenting you and me. Why does one torment that which one loves? Because one loves."

I've never felt engrossed in a book for a long time until I entered the the world of Aimée & Jaguar. Set in WWII, a Nazi mother and a Jewish woman fall in love in bleak and horrific Nazi Germany. Women's stories during the war tend to be ignored and they seem to be rather non-existent. How much more a story between two women, on opposite grounds, falling in love? It is a breath of fresh air to read something that recounts this. Surprisingly, the copy I bought from a book sale only have 362 pages which had the Author's infamous Epilogue cut (other reviewers rated it low because of it). I guess this preserved its impacting and memorable story without tinging Aimée's actions and experiences but it can be somehow confusing and you lose yourself whilst reading because the timelines tend to jump. The wonderful yet painful thing about this biography is how I still hoped together with Aimée even though I know how it ends after watching the film years back. There are letters, poems and scanned tickets and photos in the book. The letters between them are heartbreaking and you see the longing and the love travel in each word just to reach one another. Moreover, as it further unfolds you realize that they are just humans too, especially Aimée and Jaguar, with flaws and all. Pages away from the characters, you get knocked down and be reminded how the war affected everything and how people sometimes do things which doesn't make any sense but they do it nevertheless and you think to yourself whilst reading, 'How about its repercussions?' yet you can't entirely blame anyone at all. Love can only do so much and sometimes that includes doing foolish things. I cried a few pages before I finished this book, went back to look at the pictures once more and felt closer to emotions I've never felt for a long time, and therefore this book has a special place in my heart.

"It is strange that when I think of the future, I never think of the children, it is always as if we will be alone together."

I'll spend the day thinking about them, re-watching the film and watching the documentary.

[Stacey · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.25-3.5

A book who's content is worthy of reading. Aimee and Jaguar is a true story, and a fascinating, it records a love story between two women in the middle of WWII Berlin. It's crazy just to think about that without hearing any particular, but when one discovers that one woman is married to a Nazi and one is a Jewess. Lilly Wust (Aimee) is married to a Nazi officer, and a mother of 4, Felice (Jaquar) is a Jewish woman living underground (they were referred to as Uboats). They meet through a mutual friend and Felice tells their friend she wants to see if Lilly "can smell Jews,"like she proclaims, so she starts coming around. Not only can Lilly not "smell" Felice, but her presence in Lilly and her children's lives will forever be changed. Felice is the one true love of Lilly's life, but this is not a happily ever after story.

Jaguar decides to stay in Berlin, even though all the Jewish left were underground. That was certainly her undoing, and inflicted damage that Lilly never recovered from. Erica Fischer interviewed Lilly in 1991, when she was 80 years old. She said Lilly was so accustomed to telling the story in the same way "mechanically,"with emotions at the same points, that it took her months to break down rote memory and touch their lives deeply.

I rated the book low because I felt Erica's writing was "mechanical." Much of the book felt like reading a dry history book. I believe it's an authors responsibility to take the given information and form an informative but also enjoyable book. In the beginning, the dates of the journal entries and letters jump around making it difficult to establish a memorable time line. Later in the book the journals and letters are chronological.

The history in this book, taken directly from letters and journals, was enough to keep enough of my interest to finish the book. I thought the love story wasn't well developed, and I felt it wasn't written in an inspiring fashion.

[Jimmy Scheich · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ein Buch, das ich, erst einmal angefangen, nicht aus der Hand legen konnte. Ich habe einen authentischen, hautnahen Einblick in die Zeit des NS bekommen, konnte die Angst spüren, die diese Frauen gehabt haben müssen. Da es sich hier um echte Biografien handelt, fand ich es noch mitreißender.

[Lucy Meeker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this book. It is one of my all time favorites and the movie was wonderful to. If you have not had a chance to read, please do because it won't disappoint.

[Frances · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up this book because I loved the movie, which I saw without knowing anything about it. While I’m glad that I went into the viewing experience with absolutely no preconceptions, it was a punch in the gut to realize at the very end of the movie, that it had actually *happened*.

To an old sea dyke like myself (and by old, I mean I’ve been out for 14 years, which is rare for someone my age, even though I’m just past my twenties), having grown up seeing no lesbian representation outside of the film RENT, the movie checked every box for me: the self-discovery that comes with living through extraordinary events, a hero who is unapologetically herself facing life-threatening circumstances she must overcome, a solid coming out story, a woman in a straight society shedding her gender role joyfully, desperate and rapturous love letters, a tragic ending, Lilly’s almost ascetic refusal of love after Felice’s death. It had it all.

When I found out that the movie was based on a true story, my relationship to and understanding of it changed. It became weightier. Aimee and Jaguar’s story became even more moving given that their virtues and flaws were based on reality and not on the wishful thinking of its writers and directors.

For instance: watching the movie a second time with the knowledge that it is based on a true story, I was skeptical that Lilly’s parents had accepted her relationship to a Jewish woman so readily. I thought that the movie’s makers had created this acceptance out of a desire to give the main characters much-needed support or from some misguided attempt to provide a “good” German with which to sympathize. You see this ingenuous comfort all the time in movies based on true stories involving minorities. (For example: in Stonewall, an offensively inaccurate depiction of the event, trans women of color who instigated the protest are replaced by a white, cis-gendered gay dude. In Hidden Figures, Katherine Johnson’s white boss is seen destroying the “Whites Only” sign outside of the women’s bathroom in a sign of solidarity, which never happened and was only added to reassure white audiences that #notallwhitepeople were like that at that time. While of course not all white people were horribly racist, any sympathies they may have held for people of color pale in comparison to the discrimination and violence people of color faced. Such liberties also obscure current issues, leading many white viewers to believe that these issues have been solved. Inserting this fiction into the narrative degrades the efforts of people of color for self-liberation by creating a white savior paternalistically “taking care” of those “under” his charge. But I digress.) That’s why I was surprised to learn that Lilly’s parents, were, in fact, pretty supportive of their relationship, especially given the times. These snapshots remind us that, like now, societies are always comprised of a boggling variety of people. The way history is written makes us forget this fact.

Details of daily life paint a vivid picture of what Berlin must have been like at the time. Both the movie and the book do an admirable job of illustrating the desperation of the Germans as the Allies closed in, the mundane terror of the constant bombings, the distrust rampant among Germans who didn’t know who was trustworthy and who was an informant, the hunger, the stress caused by the constant threat of being murdered or carted away...the list goes on.

Against this backdrop, some flashes of humanity remain: Felice gifting Lilly a red apple upon their first meeting, a luxury at the time, the feeling of liberation provided by the extremities of war, Felice’s straight friends accepting her sexuality, the cross-dressing, the drama that can come with close groups of friends, the smoking, the parties, the relationship Felice develops with Lilly’s children, the marriage vows, and other scenes, some remarkable, some quotidian, make history *live.*

Lilly and Felice become painfully real to us, especially in the book. While Lilly’s letters, interviews with her friends and family, and Fischer’s research generally support Lilly’s story, Fischer does an excellent job of viewing Lilly as a flawed but brave person instead of solely a romantic martyr. In her blunt and incisive epilogue, she argues that Lilly’s claim of ignorance about the Holocaust is hard to believe, given how politically aware those around her were. She also takes issue with Lilly’s insistence on painting herself as a victim:

“It was hard for me to accept her collective *we.* She imposed herself on the Jews, her son Bernd had said to me. *I* did not accept it. Her matter-of-fact assumption of a closeness to Jews was something I countered with an abrupt silence. I do not grant her the status of victim. I guard the line that runs between her and Felice, my Jewish mother, and myself obdurately, protective of my small piece of identity. She tried again and again to cross that line, sending greetings to my mother, using Jewish expressions, glorifying Israel and such, as if she had nothing to do with her own land of Germany.”

Fischer does not extend the same critical eye to Felice, who remains encased in a heroic and tragic historic amber. It’s one of the books few flaws. The only other quibble I have has to do more with the translator, who insisted on translating Felice’s poems so that they rhymed. I always feel cheated when I see that.

I think the spirit of the quote below captures my fascination with the story: I’m not sure if Felice ever said the following, but I think the movie’s quote likely does justice to her memory:

"’God created the world, Felice. You didn't.’ That's what my father always said to me. My sister, my mother... they all agreed: ‘Felice is crazy.’ And do you know why? Because for me nothing can be taken for granted. No God. No car that picks me up, no Ilse to help me, and no ‘thank you’ I have to tell her every day. You want something special, Ilse. And I'm not. I'm ungrateful and desperate for admiration. Say whatever you like. But don't make me a victim, because it's my goddamned mediocre little right to be free. As long as I can.”

The brilliance of these lines lies in Felice’s insistence on her right to live her life on her terms, to the extent that the times permitted. Fischer says that Jaguar would have broken up with Aimee. That may have been so, but it’s irrelevant. Both women were denied the opportunity to find out, to live their lives, a right that everyone should have whether they do mediocre or remarkable things.

Lilly and Felice’s love letters after Jaguar’s deportation are hard to read. The against-all-odds, love-conquers-all tone is colored by their underlying knowledge that they likely won’t see each other again. What got to me was not the grandiose declarations of love but rather their small acts of kindness toward each other: Felice leaving a love poem in a coffee cup for Lilly to find; Felice’s dogged and feigned optimism in her letters to Lilly; her appreciation of the care packages Lilly sends and the descriptions of their contents just breaks your heart. What made me tear up was when Felice asked Lilly, in a post script: “Have you developed the film from August 21?’ The photos she referenced, and which are included in the book, are sweet but saddening; the rare glimpse of lesbians pre-1960s is thrilling, but the knowledge that they were taken mere hours before Felice was abducted make them so, so sad to contemplate.

Reading about these women also reminds me of the importance of representation. When I realized I was gay when I was 14, I viewed lesbianism as something of a modern invention, a logical result of this mysterious period called the 60s where all the rules were thrown out the window and people just did whatever the hell they wanted. This misapprehension caused me to doubt whether I actually was gay—maybe the right-wingers were correct and I was just raised “wrong.” Learning about lesbian history helps us realize that we’ve always been around.

[Simona · Rating 4 out of 5]

Based on true events this love story between the wife of Nazi officer and Jewish girl is quite extraordinary. What I found very interesting are two things: construction of it - combination of real letters, poems between Aimee & Jaguar (Felice Schragenheim), dialogues which are built from the interviews with the Elisabeth/Lilly/Aimee Wust, and the second - depiction of the war. At the beginning WW II is almost just the backdrop for the love part of the story and the nearer at the end of the book, and the war we are, the more devastations of the events comes to the foreground. Of course, story is sad, but author succeeded to escape from overbearing sentimentality and she left to the story to speak for itself.

[Eli · Rating 3 out of 5]

"My God, we've had it up to here with all of it, nor do we believe that people here will change. Heroic battles and anti-Semitism. Revolting. I no longer want to have anything to do with this Germany, thank you very much. Not with this one."

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Elisabeth “Lilly” Wust was a good German: the estranged wife of a Nazi and mother of four young sons. She met Felice Schragenheim via her new domestic helper, Inge Wolf. Lilly (aka Aimée) was slow to grasp that Inge and Felice were part of a local lesbian milieu, and didn’t realize Felice (aka Jaguar) was a “U-boat” (Jew living underground) until they’d already become lovers. They got nearly a year and a half together, living almost as a married couple – they had rings engraved and everything – before Felice was taken into Gestapo custody. You know from the outset that this story won’t end well, but you keep hoping – just like Lilly did. It’s not a usual or ‘satisfying’ tragedy, though, because there is no record of what happened to Felice. She was declared legally dead in 1948 but most likely shared the fate of Anne and Margot Frank, dying of typhus at Bergen-Belsen. It’s heartbreaking that Felice, the orphaned daughter of well-off dentists, had multiple chances to flee Berlin – via her sister in London, their stepmother in Palestine, an uncle in America, or friends escaping through Switzerland – but chose to remain.

The narrative incorporates letters, diaries and interviews, especially with Lilly, who clearly grieved Felice for the rest of her life. The book is unsettling, though, in that Fischer doesn’t let it stand as a simple Juliet & Juliet story; rather, she undermines Lilly by highlighting Felice’s promiscuity (so she likely would not have remained faithful) and Lilly’s strange postwar behaviour: desperately trying to reclaim Felice’s property, and raising her sons as Jewish. This was a time capsule, a wholly absorbing reclamation of queer history, but no romantic vision.

Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck

[Subilia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Outre la romance entre Lilly et Felice, le livre témoigne aussi des conditions de vie atroces des personnes juives en Allemagne dès 1936.

[Inga · Rating 4 out of 5]

Erica Fischer (*1943) ist Journalistin, Schriftstellerin und Übersetzerin und eine Mitbegründerin des österreichischen Feminismus. Bekannt wurde sie durch ihr Buch Aimée und Jaguar, das erstmals 1994 erschien.
Untertitelt ist das Buch mit "Eine Liebesgeschichte, Berlin 1943" - es ist eine dokumentarische Erzählung der Beziehung von Lilly Wust und Felice Schragenheim während der Zeit des Nationalsozialismus und gegen Ende des zweiten Weltkriegs. Lilly hat einen nationalsozialistisch eingestellten Ehemann und vier Kinder, Felice ist eine untergetauchte Jüdin. Nach einer kurzen, intensiven Zeit des Zusammenseins wird Felice 1944 verhaftet und kommt im Konzentrationslager Bergen-Belsen kurz vor Kriegsende um.

Mit großem Aufwand hat Erica Fischer nicht nur die Überlebende Lilly Wust interviewt, als diese bereits 80 Jahre alt war, sondern auch zahlreiche Zeitzeugen befragt, Dokumente und Fotos zusammengetragen. Darin liegt auch der große Unterschied zu zahlreichen Romanen, die Thematik und historischen Hintergrund gemein haben. Es ist eine wahre Geschichte, das ist das eine, aber gleichzeitig bemüht Fischer sich sehr um eine facettenreiche Darstellung, die eben nicht nur eine rosarote Liebesgeschichte zeigt, wie Lilly Wust sie in Erinnerung haben wollte. Kritisch wird Lillys Beziehung zum Nationalsozialismus gezeigt, ihre Reaktionen nach Kriegsende - die Ablehnung von allem Deutschen und eine fast seltsam anmutenden Hinwendung zum Judentum - bleiben nicht unerwähnt, obwohl dies möglich gewesen wäre. Die Tatsache, dass man sich nie ganz Klarheit über den Lillys Charakter verschaffen kann, spiegelt die Komplexität der Situation, in der sich die Frauen historisch und gesellschaftlich befunden haben. Der umfangreiche Anhang mit Fotos, Briefen und Dokumenten belegt das Streben nach Genauigkeit und Authenzität.

Zusammen ergibt dies ein beeindruckendes Buch und Zeitzeugnis mit einer anrührenden Geschichte zweier sehr unterschiedlicher Frauen.

Das Buch wurde in 20 Sprachen übersetzt. Max Färberböck verfilmte die Liebesgeschichte 1998 unter demselben Titel.

[Robert Frank · Rating 5 out of 5]

I came across this book after seeing the movie. I actually have it on DVD. I read some reviews from people who did not think this book was “feminist enough”. But I approached this book from a different angle. I looked at it for what I thought it was, a true historical story.

I appreciate the history of Felice through poems and letters and other documents. It’s something that is not really in the movie as the movie focuses on the love story. The book does as well but it also goes into how the Nazi laws restricting the rights of Jews to downright quashing them. I am not sure if the author meant this as a feminist work or more of a historical work. Either way, it is a sad story that I would definitely recommend.

For more in depth reviews and future book giveaways go to. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC82t...

[Chueca · Rating 5 out of 5]

A summer read that did not disappoint. I loved loved loved Aimee and Jaguar's dedication to one another through the medium of letters. I am so thankful these survived to give the story the unique taste of the past. LETTERS! I wish more people wrote letters, they are such a real declaration of the present moment what ever that moment maybe. I have to go further and say they the movie that is based on this book is also really great. But, the book is a MUST. What brave women they are to have loved eachother so much during that particular time and place in history. Truly a unique story.

[Ella · Rating 4 out of 5]

heart-breaking love story about two women during WW2 in West Berlin. told in a completely unique format (a combination of first-person letters and diary entries and memoir-esque commentary), this book for my HIEU class on everyday life puts me in the shoes of women who love each other and are torn apart by the world tearing itself apart. only wish I didn't have to read it for class so I could savor it more

[Elyse · Rating 2 out of 5]

This could have been a good book. But, it moves very very slow and i find my mind drifting away. Just csnt finish it. And, i love a good lesbian romance!