I had a very, very, very hard time reading this book. It took me about a month to read it, and I can usually finish a book of this length in about a week. I read Dr. Keilson’s Comedy in a Minor Key last year, and I enjoyed it tremendously … and finished it in about two days. Yes, it packed one heck of an emotional punch, but it didn’t cut me to the bone the way Life Goes On has.
Life Goes On – Dr. Keilson’s first novel, published when he was only 23 – is slow moving but unbelievably raw. Like his other novels, Life Goes On borrows heavily from Dr. Keilson’s real life, this time mining the struggles of ordinary people in the waning days of the Weimar Republic, shortly before the Nazis came to power. It’s a small story with a generic plot, but it’s how the story is told – and Dr. Keilson’s unique place in history from which to tell the story – that makes it memorable. There were times when I couldn’t read more than five pages before having to put the book down for a couple of days. Life Goes On is the literary equivalent of a boa constrictor, winding its way around its characters and slowly tightening around them while onlookers (the readers) are unable to stop or slow the events. There’s never a question that the end, when it finally arrives, is going to be tragic. As a reader, even though I knew it wouldn’t happen, I hoped that there would be an eleventh-hour, Capraesque reprieve (full disclosure: at one point, I so needed a saccharine sweet happily ever after that I watched The Sound of Music).
For me, knowing the events and situations about to befall the characters – and knowing how much worse things will get – is part of the story’s power, especially since the author, in 1933, didn’t know what was coming. For him, that would include the Nazis banning Life Goes On a year after its initial publication, his escape to the Netherlands and, several years later, the death of both his parents in a concentration camp. But none of that has happened yet: in Life Goes On, events seems hopeless and bleak and, the terrifying thing is, with the benefit of retrospect, things were still comparatively good compared to what is coming in the next decade.
The unknown of what will be – to say nothing of today’s economic climate – is part of the story’s power, but I don’t want to undersell Dr. Keilson’s talent at tapping into the emotions of his characters. That he would go on to work with traumatized war orphans is not surprising. The depth of understanding he shows for the human psyche is extraordinary, especially given his young age when he wrote Life Goes On. This book is not only important as a literary work, but also as a historical document of a terrifying and desolate time in human history. In telling his story, Dr. Keilson allows readers to glimpse at the powerlessness of ordinary citizens, unable to fight or even escape what was happening to them. It's a piece of emotional memory, one that can't be fully replicated in nonfiction accounts or historical fiction.
For a month, this book has dogged me, never straying far from my thoughts, no matter how much I tried. I’ve read books with more tragedy and with characters with whom I more closely connected – for that matter, I agree with some of the criticism about this book's shortcomings – but I can’t change how strongly this book grabbed me. To borrow a book title: this is, indeed, a heartbreaking work of staggering genius and, for all it has emotionally drained me over the last month (frankly, I’ve gone through break ups that left me less emotionally exhausted than this book), I’m glad I took the time to both read and finish Life Goes On. It’s not a happy book or an easy book or a perfect book, but it’s an important book, and I’m glad it’s getting, several decades later, the attention it deserves. Highly recommended.