It's hard to know what to make of this one. I read a lot of WWII books, a lot from the point of view of the resistance, or survivors who hid, from spies and codebreakers, to folks who laid themselves on the line, just to save one person or preserve an ideal. Just when I think I have read every variation of this theme, a new one emerges. Never have I read a book about the women in the Nazi movement, who idolized the fascist leaders, Hitler, and the ideals and principles of their cause without fear of recrimination, conscience, guilt. Unabashed adoration and total belief. Many of us in the educated world ask ourselves all the time about the American version of the fascists, the Republicans. How can anyone glorify this? Believe they are on the side of the right? How on earth do they think they are on the side of the right, the good, the glory? That these ideals, not even hidden, are what make a county great?
This is the story of three (four) of the six Mitford sisters, one being writer Nancy Mitford, who become embroiled in different sides of the pre-war conditions in London in the 1930's. Two of the sisters become enamored of Hitler and in his inner circle, one of them (Diana) early on is partner and wife to the up and coming leader of the BUF, Britains Union of Facists. She gives up her husband, her children, her health, any sliver of moral conscience for one man, that dazzles her with his starlight and brilliance. And he never once seems to return the feeling for her. Their sister Unity, doesn't even ever really get a paramour. For her, its simply being close to, and in the favor and perceived sunlight of Hitler himself. Both sisters are used for British propoganda, and as arm candy and for their adoration. And both women are not just brainless dodo's - they are strongly political, and would serve their lives for the cause, as well as their leaders. Meet the women fascists, who adored Hitler and Lord Mosley, and who would and did sacrifice everything for the cause they believed in and the men who championed it.
Nancy Mitford, was caught between the love and care for her sisters, and her continued appall at how they (and her parents) were behaving, and the dangerous consequences for the country. She wrote satirical critiques of her family, and lost their trust and affinity as a result, but ultimately she had to decide if she would turn them in to turn the tide on the growing danger. The Mitford family were cousins to Clementine Chruchill, so therefore Winston, and this in itself was fascinating. That Clementine's cousins would be at the heart of Nazi Espionage. Nancy, and a fourth sister who turned her back on the family to fight for freedom, (Decca), they stood apart from their family. Everyone in the book suffered the consequences for what they believed.
I am thinking about Marie Benedict's strong women throughout her books - and how many of them lost themselves in the "dazzle" of a prominent man that they gave everything, their whole lives for. But also how many in their own right, were the strong women behind the men. Who truly understood and drove the political or social landscape. Who secretly crafted the policy, the PR, the ideas that would change social thought. And with little to no recognition. It was eerily fascinating - and you can feel Nancy's conflict, as well as her pain of separation from her family, a loveless marriage, infertility, financial compromise, and her writing. She is not like her sister Decca, unabashedly a freedom fighter and proclaimer. Nancy is more conflicted than the heroes we so often read about. Almost unwilling to do what she ultimately does. Interesting characters this time around. In some ways, its a troubling read. And yes, it makes me think of where we are at in this country around how folks decide what is right and true and who to believe, and what to fight for - even when it separates us from our families. How to keep informed, so that the "Never Again" is something we don't let erode and slip away. It was troubling and fascinating. And easy to see how it happens. A little too easy.