In 1938, seventeen-year-old Beatrice, an Irish Protestant lace maker, finds herself at the center of a fairy tale when she is whisked away from her dreary life to join the Berlin household of Felix and Dorothea Metzenburg. Art collectors, and friends to the most fascinating men and women in Europe, the Metzenburgs introduce Beatrice to a world in which she finds more to desire than she ever imagined.
But Germany has launched its campaign of aggression across Europe, and, before long, the conflict reaches the Metzenburgs’ threshold. Retreating with Beatrice to their country estate, Felix and Dorothea do their best to preserve the traditions of the old world. But the realities of hunger and illness, as well as the even graver threats of Nazi terror, the deportation and murder of Jews, and the hordes of refugees fleeing the advancing Red Army begin to threaten their existence. When the Metzenburgs are forced to join a growing population of men and women in hiding, Beatrice, increasingly attached to the family and its unlikely wartime community, bears heartrending witness to the atrocities of the age and to the human capacity for strength in the face of irrevocable loss.
In searing physical and emotional detail, The Life of Objects illuminates Beatrice’s journey from childhood to womanhood, from naïveté to wisdom, as a continent collapses into darkness around her. It is Susanna Moore’s most powerful and haunting novel yet.
Susanna Moore is the author of the novels One Last Look, In the Cut, The Whiteness of Bones, Sleeping Beauties, and My Old Sweetheart, which won the Ernest Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award for First Fiction, and the Sue Kaufman Prize for First Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Her nonfiction travel book, I Myself Have Seen It, was published by the National Geographic Society in 2003. She lives in New York City.
Beatrice Palmer, a young woman in the west of Ireland, is bored with her constricting life as a shop girl in her family's haberdashery. Her life offers no possibilities until a glamorous countess comes along and whisks her away to a life of privilege in the wealthy household of the Metzenburg family in Germany. She imagines herself the lucky girl living a fairy tale life: "I, who'd been properly bewitched, was accompanying her to a distant kingdom where I would live in an enchanted forest and spin flax into gold."
Unfortunately, the year is 1938, Hitler is on the rise and World War II looms on the near horizon. When it becomes clear that war is inevitable, Beatrice has the option to return home, but her desire to live a larger life keeps her loyal to Felix and Dorothea Metzenburg.
Many stories of impending war center on people who either don't know or can't let themselves believe the consequences of staying. The Metzenburgs (in particular, Felix) understand the consequences and yet decide to remain. For Felix, it isn't a loyalty to his country or a love of his estate (it's his wife's ancestral home). Instead, it's a soul-deep connection to his objects, his "treasure" as the family calls it. He stays to protect his priceless collection of art, antiques, jewelry and porcelain. These objects are in essence his identity; he has no desire to live in a world without their beauty.
For varying reasons, everyone decides to stay: Beatrice, because she wants no other life; servants, out of loyalty to their employers; Dorothea, out of love for her husband. The tragedy of war and eventually the horrors of living under Soviet rule engulf the protagonists. Felix's treasures take on new meaning, as they become central to survival.
I appreciated the writer's restraint. Beatrice doesn't cut the apron strings only to become entangled in scandalous behavior. Her desires are modest, her pleasures simple. She is a good and conscientious girl, naive in many ways, but also loyal, brave and even, in the end, heroic. The war, she realizes, made her who she is and she knows she is the better for it.
I’m not quite sure what to make of this book. As always Susanna Moore gives us some wonderful prose. I read several of her early books when they were first published, then drifted away from her work. There’s something vaguely unsatisfying about it. It’s difficult to see the point in her plots. In my opinion “Objects” was saved by the last third of the book prior to that it feels like a mish mash of a description of lovely things and of manners from a previous era. After meandering through the early years of World War II Maeve/Beatrice, an Irish woman who was lured to Germany based on her lace making skills, has grown up and grown weary all at the same time when war breaks out soon after she arrives. The wealthy couple she’s serving are barely surviving on their country estate when they flee the danger of Berlin. They’re not so isolated that the war and its privations don’t affect them however. There’s little food and they feel an obligation to make sure the locals are taken care of as well. There is a lot seething beneath the surface of Moore’s seemingly straight forward text. Relationships are complex and largely unexpressed or acknowledged. For good and bad reasons no one trusts anyone else.
There is a sprinkling of art history here but not enough to satisfy an art lover, just enough to titillate and horrify. Especially tragic are the fragile paintings that were damaged, lost or destroyed due to war. Even worse is the human toll. There are horrors here but for the most part not the visceral kind. Trust is the chief casualty. No one is what they seem to be or worse they’re exactly what they seem to be. Moore is thorough about the concentrations camps; she lists some I’d never been aware of previously. She succeeds in making World War II personal. The avowed focus on objects made for a disconnect but that was probably her intent.
This review is based on an advanced reading copy supplied by the publisher.
This rather simple novel relays the story of Beatrice (also called Maeve), a young Protestant, Irish woman who leaves Ireland for Germany just before World War II breaks out. She lives with a wealthy couple, the Metzenbergs - ostensibly to make lace for the wife, Dorothea.She ends up working more as their servant. The story is starkly narrated, tinged with Beatrice’s naivete. Because of this almost overly straightforward tone, none of the characters really come to life against this dramatic setting. Not even the narrator! And though well-researched, the novel lacks the freshness and creativity that a World War II story demands to stand out amongst the plethora of other novels set in the same time period. Combined with the slow pacing, this relatively short (under 250 pages) novel feels much longer than it is.
With so many of the horrors of war described so matter-of-factly, it is easy to gloss over some shocking scenes, as nothing sets one scene apart from another in tone. This tone and attitude makes it difficult to connect with any of the characters. Even the most awful actions are described in the same style as the most banal activities. Unfortunately, it simply isn’t a satisfying read and even the way the events are summarized and concluded leaves readers wanting.
Maybe it was the flat delivery and monotone Irish lilt of the reader of the audiobook, but I found this novel understated to the point of boredom. Not that dramatic things don't happen -- people are captured by the Nazis and disappear, women are raped, cruelty abounds. "The banality of evil" seems an apt description of the cold-blooded and casual brutalization inflicted on the small German village of this book by the various factions in power, first the Nazis, then the Russians.
Basically my problem was with the narrator, Beatrice/Maeve. We are to understand that she is a sheltered Irish teenager given her first chance to enter the wider world when she's brought to Germany as a lady's maid to a wealthy family, on the eve of WWII. She doesn't know fine manners and has a simple, innocent take on life -- and yet the author has her delivering such words as "suzerainty" and ornate literary turns of phrase that do not at all ring true.
And the ending -- it's one of those walks off a cliff to the sound of one hand clapping sorts of non-endings that is very much in vogue among the literati but, to the average reader hoping for resolution and resonance, adds up to a maddening nothing.
I was so disappointed by this book. I wanted to love it, but the writing style felt so flat. I kept waiting for events to tie together, for the people to make sense, for someone to step forward as a leading character. None of this happened. While Beatrice was the narrator, I felt she just wasn't written well enough to satisfy my want for a lead role. The couple with whom she "works" for are clumsily put together...... While they are aristocratic they invite Beatrice to join them at dinner, but none of the other servants. Their love of things yet their charity to peasants is quite confusing because overall, they weren't written as necessarily "good people". I just found the accounts of nothing too much and the important pieces such as the starvation, the rape, the birth and burial of the baby (was it alive or dead?), were the Metzenburgs really in love, why didn't Maeve ever long for home or go home or elsewhere for that matter, etc? The book was just disappointing.
This is one of the best novels I have ever read--truly. It is an exquisitely written novel with timing, cadence and perceptiveness that reminds me of a brilliant orchestral piece. The Life of Objects starts off like a fairytale and ends as a horror story. The story is told in the first person by an impressionable young Irish girl, Beatrice Palmer who lives unhappily in a small village with an indifferent father and a downright hateful mother. Her only escape from her dreary life is the school master who mentors her and her talent for making beautiful lace.
Here's where the fairytale begins. In sweeps a beautiful exotic Countess who offers her a position with a wealthy German family as a lacemaker. With virtually no hesitation, the opportunity to leave her unsatisfactory life is accepted, much to her mother's distain. A train ride to Germany, fancy new clothes and shoes seem like a dream come true. Although Beatrice, who now begins to use the name given to her by her school master--Maeve, is extremely bright and intelligent, she is quite ignorant of the world. The year is 1938 and she has no idea whatsoever what is going on in Germany.
When she arrives in Berlin instead of lace making she is put to work packing up and hiding the exquisite works of art that belong to her "employers", the Metzenbergs. Her sense of adventure completely blinds her to the reason for all this packing and hiding. Soon the household is forced to depart to the country estate because the military has taken possession of their Berlin home.
The Metzenbergs keep up appearances as the war rages and rumors of what's happening to the Jews fly. It is here, at the country estate and in the village of Lowendorf, that the horror story slowly descends upon the Metzenberg household and the villagers. The resilience and survival instincts of this wealthy, aristocratic couple, while never surrendering to the hatred and capitulation that so many of their national brethren succumb to, is astounding.
The end of this story is definitely not a fairytale, but neither is it hopeless.
This book was beautiful. I first came to Susanna Moore through "The Big Girls" while in college, and it was such an engrossing read I couldn't wait to get my hands on her newest novel. Moore has a way of writing that completely envelopes you in the worlds she creates, and this certainly wasn't an exception to her enviable rule. This book felt like a journey, in fact it was very reminiscent of classic films from the 50s and 60s in which characters begin in one place at the film's beginning and take completely unexpected and unpredictable paths to come to an entirely different place in the end. In a literary world increasingly plagued by familiar, tired, and carelessly reworked and borrowed plot lines, one of this nature is a welcome relief. Fan's of Toibin's "Brooklyn" will adore this for the "journey" and "rags to...well, slightly better rags" aspects of the tale. It's also a book about World War Two, and, in some cases, a Holocaust Novel, though only in very, very loose terms. There are certainly fairy tale aspects at the novel's start, but the way Moore artfully wrecks the plot of the fairytale is pretty astounding. This novel felt fresh, and, unlike the majority of world war two fiction out there that takes place on the "home front," or those not actively engaged in battle, it's not weighed down by copious love and lust stories that don't seem to have any merits other than the fleeting attractiveness of their impossibility and impending heartbreak. Though there are certain familiar plot points in the novel, they can be forgiven with the newness that Moore brings to writing them. The characters, not the events, are what drives this novel. Certainly deserves a place on the Best of fall 2012 shelf.
This book just left me cold. I never felt involved with the characters--almost as if I was hovering above the action. Often I couldn't figure out who was talking due to the author's generous use of pronouns. And sometimes I just didn't know what was happening. One instance, Beatrice (or Maeve) finds a soldier in the forest, is frightened and runs home. The next paragraph she is with him again--Huhh??? I found myself rereading paragraphs trying to decipher what was happening. Not a favorite.
I like the relationship between the title and the story; it is not just the life of object it is the life that is given through objects. When the story opens and the reader first meets Felix he is obsessed with his objects. Clearly the impression is given that the objects themselves are more important than much else (including his or Dorothea's safety). However, as the war unfolds and Felix sells off item by item it becomes clear that the objects are a means to an end and one begins to wonder if Felix resistance to leaving Germany was not because he prizes his objects as much as it is that he can't bear being unable to help others.
Unfortunately, I was not crazy about the Beatrice/Meave character. I understood her desire to leave backwoods Ireland and the appeal of Inez and Berlin. I also understood that she didn't have a relationship with her mother and so was not in a hurry to return to Ireland. However, I found it trite and a bit oversimplified that she essentially adopts Felix and Dorothea as substitute parents (and they she, as a daughter). It was not quite believable to me that she would remain there throughout the war and that after the war she wouldn't even think of going home until after Felix was dead. Moore addresses this briefly: "Had the men not been sent to the war and the maids not been forced into slave labor, I would have disappeared into the sewing room with my bobbin and thread. I knew that the war had given me a life.", but it felt like an afterthought and attempt to justify her very implausible scenario.
I was also annoyed by the pregnancy. The rape scene was believable (and probable) enough, but typically women do not end up pregnant from rape and it just felt like Moore was stretching so that she could write the gross miscarriage and burial scene.
I liked the passages about the post-war occupation of Germany. I have read a bunch of WWII stuff, but nothing that covers this period of time, especially for the newly colonized Communist zones. It is interesting to watch as Felix, who certainly practiced Marxist principals during the war, was vilified as a landholder in the new socialist republic.
There were a few good quotes: "'You're distracted tonight.' His fingers encircled her wrist. 'I don't believe in distraction,' she said, pulling away from him, 'It's a way to be innocent and guilty at the same time.' 'I find it useful,' he said." and "he one believed that humanism had been founded on the shared need to know. It had grown more and more apparent to him, however, that the opposite was true--we were united by our shared need not to know. 'By the time that we understand what is happening', he said, we are already complicit."
Overall it is an easy, relatively quick read but I wasn't very impressed. It felt like a lot of other Nazi WWI stories and there wasn't anything that ultimately stood out.
Having recently read HHhH I found myself thinking about the fictionalization of wartime atrocities (Heydrich himself is mentioned in this novel) .... For such a short novel it's remarkable how the entire war is represented - the chapters are entitled 1938, 1939, 1940, 1941, 1942, 1943, 1944, 1945, and a few "years" are only twenty pages long. But the weight of the war and the transformation of the small-scale society and the larger political events feel as if they are all within the novel. Much of it takes place just off-stage, until the Soviets enter Germany.
Two main metaphors operate: (1) Lace and lacework. Like webs linking everything; and material that creates a border but can be glimpsed through - which is necessary because the other metaphor is (2) Hiding. So much is hidden - hiding in plain sight (who is a Jew, who is sleeping with whom, who is a spy, who loves whom, the identities of the personas at the fancy Berlin hotel .... ) and literally hidden (the works of art that Felix is secreting below ground on behalf of the fleeing Jewish wealthy).
The physical objects - that begin as books and birds, then become aesthetics and wealth and opulence (that Beatrice covets).... then as the war proceeds Beatrice's attention to objects is retained but the objects gradually return to the earthly, until she's again cherishing a potato or a carrot or a wildflower. Or a modest piece of clothing to cover her shame.
I would call this measured prose: a measured voice and tone that remarkably never varies in its cadences even during the most horrific incidents. That's undoubtedly why some readers are calling it too "spare" or too "cool" - but that careful voice is something I appreciated for giving the novel a quiet power and depicting how this particular person maintained her inner character through the war.
It calls for close reading - there is subterfuge and messages relayed that the young narrator doesn't understand but that the reader should be able to glean. For example, an elliptical conversation about Ireland's neutrality during the war (and why Beatrice can remain in Germany). The Metzenburgs say more to Beatrice than she can ever understand, but she subconsciously grasps much of what is unfolding around her - as a child would - even though she wouldn't be able to articulate it. (What a relief not to have to handle an unreliable narrator.)
Do we own our things or do they own us? This is a common question for those that struggle with the possession of material goods. Readers will find themselves reflecting on this as they read The Life of Objects by Susanna Moore. Opening in Ireland, shortly before WWII, readers are introduced to the young narrator, Beatrice Palmer. A bookish girl, longing for the adventurous life she confronts in novels, and who always seems to be at odds with her mother, Beatrice teaches herself to make lace and catches the eye of a Countess visiting Ireland. The Countess arranges for Beatrice to accompany her to Berlin, where her friends Felix and Dorothea Metzenburg will be delighted to employ her. Beatrice, in her naïveté, sees this as her once chance for opportunity. Felix is a lover and collector of art, jewels, and priceless objects, and Beatrice quickly spending most of her time packing and hiding the various treasures as the impending war draws near. As the war progresses, it is these objects that will save Beatrice and the Metzenburgs in more ways than one. Rich with description, Moore has created a novel that reads like a memoir, and has the feel of a fairy tale. As the world changes, the war escalates, and the lines between the classes blur, Beatrice changes as well, and therefore the novel is in fact a compelling coming of age story. The Life of Objects is strikingly crafted and thought provoking which deserves wide readership.
A beautifully written book by an author who has the rare gift of being able to say profound things in such a simple and direct manner that I had to read slowly in order not to miss anything. It's a very short book, considering how much it contains.
For some reason, many of the books I read this year involved the fate of art, art collectors, and dealers during WWII. (I may have to make a special shelf.) In this case, it's a wealthy Jewish art collector, Felix Metzenberg, and his Gentile wife who retreat to their country estate in Germany hoping to avoid the ravages of the war and its aftermath. The protagonist is a young Irish girl, a talented lacemaker, who fled her home (before the war) to come work for the art collector. The estate becomes a refuge for many who are fleeing the Nazis as the aging Felix--while trying to bury many of his treasures--generously shares everything he has to help others survive.
The characters are diverse and fully realized. I need to buy this for my Kindle so I can reread and highlight.
This book reads like a reporting, an unemotional, unsentimental memoir. It is the lack of sentiment, I think, that gives it so much power. A young Irish woman lives through WWII in Germany with people she comes to love but always approaches life as a day by day affair. It is interesting to read of Germans who were not Jews but of the wealhy and intellectual class and how they too were affected by the war, particularly because they were not sympathetic to the Nazis. An excellent read and, even though it is not emotional, I felt sadness at the death of some characters and as the book ended. I highly recommend it for those interested in Germany in the war.
I've read books like this before. It's during the Second World War. A German family, not one of whom is a Nazi, tries to endure during difficult times. As the days go on things get worse: friends disappear, people die, homes destroyed, etc. The Life of Objects managed not to sound like a cliche. Into the mix is an Irish girl (Ireland was neutral in WWII) who comes to live with the family in 1938 as a lace maker and some time domestic. Her character is what makes this book so interesting. She it the true outsider. She knows nothing of politics. So we see her absorb slowly what others already know.
I'm still trying to decide what I think of Susanna Moore's "The Life of Objects." It opens in 1938 with a young Beatrice Palmer is yearning to leave her small town in West Ireland for something more.
Teaching herself how to create lace for her father's store, she catches the eye of a local aristocrat who brings her to the attention of a visiting Countess who offers Beatrice the opportunity to leave her small town for Berlin as she knows a couple who have an exquisite lace collection.
It doesn't take much to keep Beatrice from saying yes and soon she is off to a new life.
Once in Berlin, she's promptly deposited with Metzenburgs. Felix is a man of charm and intelligence. Dorothea, his wife, is quiet and gracious. You might think they will be like the Von Trapps of "The Sound of Music" but they aren't. They are upper class intellectuals. As the Nazis gain power and war comes to Europe, the Metzenburgs and Beatrice will be forced to the country estate to give shelter and try to survive the war.
The story is both fascinating in that it gives a point of view of the war from inside Germany with an Irish girl as the narrator. It is also a bit maddening because there is a detachment to the way it is told. It isn't heavy on dialogue. Interaction is often described. Reader is told rather than shown in many instances so I never felt like I fully entered the story.
But right when I might want to dismiss the book, it is still intriguing me and I find myself opening the book to just any page because I feel like I missed something and I usually find that I did indeed miss something. Like how Dorothea and Beatrice, under normal circumstances, would never have had some of the conversations that they did. It is only because of the war, that their class barrier was lowered.
Or how Inez, the intriguing Countess who brings Beatrice to Berlin, may not be what she seems or may be exactly what she seems but a whole lot more.
Novel is slim and compact which actually goes to its favor. Definitely a well written novel but I think it is one that either it finds a notch to hook itself into the reader or it misses completely.
The Life of Objects is the story of (you guessed it) Beatrice Adelaide Palmer. She is an Irish lace-maker, and is whisked away in what seems a fairy tale to live with Felix and Dorothea Metzenburg. She is introduced to artists, aristocracy, and actors. But World War II is looming, and the conflict arrives at the Metzenburg's. The family and its servants go to their country estate, and try to preserve the old world. But Nazi terror just keeps advancing. Eventually, the Metzenburgs, who Beatrice (or Maeve) has become attached to, are forced to go into hiding.
I liked the setting and the mood of The Life of Objects. The easy familiarity between Felix and Dorothea and their "servants" was lovely to see. Felix and Dorothea are two very nice people. I don't know if something like that is at all realistic, but it was a good touch.
What I did find really unrealistic, though, was that Maeve would just be whisked away all of a sudden from Ireland and just taken to Germany. And then, she really didn't do that much lace-making for all that. I also felt like Maeve's character was kind of underdeveloped: we know that her teacher, Mr. Knox, was a great influence in her life, she loves books, and she loves observing birds. And that her parents aren't particularly loving. But that's about it. I wanted to know more about her, and some of the other characters.
I am interested in this particular part of history, but it didn't really come alive, though it was interesting to learn about how the less sympathetic upper class fared during the war. But for much of the book, it seemed aloof from the lives of the people, and it was only at the end that the immediacy of the war became apparent.
Really, I loved the premise of the novel, but it fell a bit flat. I feel like a lot more could have been done with this one. I will say though, that the ad in The New York Times Book Review caused me to check this one out of the library, so it somewhat succeeded.
Beatrice, an Irish teenager, is desperate to get out of her small town and away from her cold parents. While working in her parents' store, she teaches herself lacemaking. A worldy woman comes through town, and takes Beatrice to Germany, where she leaves her with wealthy landed friends, as their own lacemaker.
But it is 1938. Beatrice is naive and clueless. The couple she is left with have no need nor desire for a lacemaker. And war is coming to Germany.
This novel chronicles the next 7 years of Beatrice's life, as essentially a servant in a wealthy household, to a friend and confidante and servant in a household with no young men and quite a few refugees; through bombings and people disappearing' through times of plenty and starvation.
Sounds like it should be good, but it is long, and slow; boring and exhausting. As people disappear, this household stays put and refuses to believe the truth, and gives away their best chance to leave. And Beatrice, an Irish citizen, chooses to stay with them. Mystifying, infuriating, and just plain boring.
This book is interesting in that's it's a story of the people living in Germany during and just after WWII when the displacement, shortages and lack of information makes life so difficult. First though it's the story of a young girl whose life was sheltered growing up in a small town in Ireland. She has never been outside of the small town she lives in and has very little experience outside of her environs. With a little encouragement from her father, not her mother, she learns to make lace and he allows her to display it at his store. Beatrice then finds herself whisked to Berlin to make lace for people she doesn't know...but it's a way out of her dreary life so she accepts it. Everything is a new experience...words, food, clothing, life. Beatrice learns of the world, her limitations, and more importantly her capacity. It's a book that really spans such profound changes in Beatrice's life and opens her eyes to what is truly important.
This is a very quiet novel. A young Irish girl who has a talent for lace is approached by a high-class lady. She'll be offered a job with a wealthy German couple who lives in Berlin. Her dreams are coming true, she's leaving her small town behind. Her life is like one of those books that she's read growing up: a fantastical journey, wealthy people, jewels, politics, fancy dinner parties. There is only one problem: World War II has begun and our young Irish-girl is now at the heart of it all.
There is a not a lot of action: it's a book about quiet moments, conversations, our young Irish-girl discovering who she is. Her love of lace, birds, & literature. Her ability to survive in the face of so much unknown danger is something that will keep you turning pages. It's a holocaust story but not the one you're expecting. We watch this family through the yes of this serving girl. All the horrors of history that are visited upon her and she still some how finds a way to smile.
A teenaged lace maker, Beatrice, gets the opportunity to escape her dreary Irish existence, and travel to Berlin to work for a prominent German family. The year is 1938, and despite warnings from her family, she took her chances and found herself in a country at war with the rest of Europe. The perspective Beatrice offers, of an expat torn between loyalties - to her native country, and to her new German family - gives this work of historical fiction a unique and interesting slant. Her employer, Felix Metzenburg, is a wealthy collector of artwork. His seeming obsession to hide and keep safe his valuables, allows the author to explore the meaning in what we hold dear to us. This novel was well researched, and provided a vehicle which helped the reader to understand World War II from the point of view of the average German (and an expat living there), but also gripped at your heartstrings and gave you cause to appreciate the author's deft storytelling.
While I admire Susanna Moore's writerly craft, I can't give this book a better-than-average rating. The story involves an Irish girl who escapes the drudgery of her life in an isolated village to be deposited in the home of a wealthy German couple just as World War II is gathering steam. I couldn't believe this first premise -- who would accept a girl into their home like that? I was also puzzled by how this couple managed to survive the war without being challenged by the Reich, simply by retreating to their country home. Having just read 'In the Garden of the Beasts', i would have thought that the regime was too thorough to let a well-known, wealthy, and possibly Jewish couple, settle into their estate to grow carrots with their servants for the duration of the war. So, I had problems believing the structures that held this plot together. Nor did I warm to the characters. All told, not a book I can praise.
A truly unique perspective on World War II--from the points of view of both the German family and an Irish outsider, making the reader entirely uncertain of what will happen next and how the characters will make out in the end. Moore has an interesting way of creating characters that the reader comes to know throughout the entire course of the book instead of describing them entirely upon first introducing them into the story. The broken up chapters, staccato in nature, made the novel take on a matter-of-fact tone and almost more as if the reader is reading a first person recollection instead of a novel. Very unique.
For a novel concerned with the horror, chaos, and deprivations in Germany both during and immediately after WWII (mainly due to the Russian occupation), this first-person narrative is strangely distancing. Beatrice, an Irish teenager goes to Germany to be the personal lacemaker for a wealthy German family in 1938. Glamor is soon replaced by hardship, yet Beatrice stays, and a new family is forged in adversity. The titular 'objects' extend beyond paintings and jewels to the expendable citizenry positioned in the wartime landscape. However, for the majority of this brief novel, few of the characters moved beyond the status of symbols for me.
Beatrice, an Irish girl who makes lace and sews, is hired by the Metzenburgs in Berlin, 1938. At 17 and coming from a poor family, Beatrice is intrigued by their life of wealth, art and collecting. As Hitler gains power, that life changes and Beatrice finds herself on the family's country estate, burying those collections for protection. The description of life under the Nazi regime is detailed and the ways that people stayed alive brings Beatrice to a full understanding of those with whom she'd been living.
So many great reviews, great sounding premise I could not wait to begin. Sadly it did not live up to my expectations. The story takes place in Germany during WWII. The narrator Beatrice arrives in Germany from Ireland expecting to create lace which she loves, but instead essentially becomes the housekeeper for this wealthy German family and is ok with that. My inability to understand her attachment with this family hurts my ability to appreciate the story.
I could not get invested in these characters or this story. I plugged along, through the horrors of occupied life in WWII, but did not connect with anything. If the author was intending to mimic the void of human connection that allowed the atrocities of the Holocaust, mission accomplished. Disengaged, I finished in the hope that I might grow to care for Beatrice and her desperate and isolating journey to adulthood. That never happened.
Maybe I missed something, but I found this book dull and boring. As this took place a little outside of Berlin during the period before, during and after WW 2, even I'm surprised. I did not feel drawn into the story as I felt I should have been. There was just no emotional tug, even as Beatrice/Maeve told of the horrors she witnessed and of those things that happened to her.
Not a bad story - but honestly felt that Beatrice (Maeve) was watching forever in the hallway and just relating stories to us - she was never someone to form a connection to. Working on a full review.