The Lilac People

by Milo Todd

For readers of All the Light We Cannot See and In Memoriam, a moving and deeply humane story about a trans man who must relinquish the freedoms of prewar Berlin to survive first the Nazis then the Allies while protecting the ones he loves.

In 1932 Berlin, Bertie, a trans man, and his friends spend carefree nights at the Eldorado Club, the epicenter of Berlin's thriving queer community. An employee of the renowned Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld at the Institute of Sexual Science, Bertie works to improve queer rights in Germany and beyond, but everything changes when Hitler rises to power. The institute is raided, the Eldorado is shuttered, and queer people are rounded up. Bertie barely escapes with his girlfriend, Sofie, to a nearby farm. There they take on the identities of an elderly couple and live for more than a decade in isolation.

In the final days of the war, with their freedom in sight, Bertie and Sofie find a young trans man collapsed on their property, still dressed in Holocaust prison clothes. They vow to protect him—not from the Nazis, but from the Allied forces who are arresting queer prisoners while liberating the rest of the country. Ironically, as the Allies' vise grip closes on Bertie and his family, their only salvation becomes fleeing to the United States.

Brimming with hope, resilience, and the enduring power of community, The Lilac People tells an extraordinary story inspired by real events and recovers an occluded moment of trans history.

Genres: Historical Fiction, LGBT, Fiction, Queer, Historical, Audiobook, World War II

303 pages, Hardcover

First published April 29, 2025

Reviews

[Flo · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's strange how you can sometimes miss the big picture, even when you have the information. I consider myself well-informed about the Second World War and the history of gay and transgender rights in Germany. I was familiar with Paragraph 175 (highly recommend the documentary) and the fight LGBTQ people faced to be recognized as victims of the Nazis—yet I never grasped the hard truth that after the Second World War ended, gay survivors of Nazi Germany were the only ones who were not liberated, but continued to be persecuted.

This book made me realize that, and it was devastating. At times, it was very hard to read and to come to terms with this injustice. But I was deeply involved in the story, and I found myself hoping, along with the characters, that they could find an escape in a sincere, almost innocent way—something I don’t often see in stories like this.

Highly recommended.

[Marieke (mariekes_mesmerizing_books) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Actual rating 4.5 stars.
 
Pitched as All the Lights We Cannot See meets In Memoriam, The Lilac People was a huge surprise for me. This story, told in a dual timeline, is about Bertie, a transexual man during the thirties and forties in Nazi Germany.

When people hurt bad enough, they’ll grab any idea to make their own lives better, no matter how illogical.

What surprised me the most was what I didn’t know yet about that time. Have you ever heard of The Institute of Sexual Science, where transexual people got surgery and a new passport in the twenties and thirties of the last century? I didn’t and found this part fascinating. Bertie works at the Institute and is confident in his life as a man. Okay, he sometimes needs to pretend (back then, they didn’t have hormones yet), but overall, he’s happy. Until Hitler comes to power and he has to flee.

If it helps, I believe everyone is acting in one way or another in this world. We’re all afraid to be ourselves. And the saddest part is that fear is unnecessarily genuine.

The Lilac People shows us the time before and after WWII. Before: a happy time full of parties and friends, eventually turning into something sinister. And afterward: tucked away on a farm where, after the war, the Americans suddenly pose a threat because they arrest queer people. Bertie, his girlfriend Sofie, his best friend Gert (oh Gert), and Karl, who fled Dachau as a trans man, came to live in this beautiful and informative story.

Anger is not bad. Anger is how we tell ourselves that we’ve been wronged, that we’ve been mistreated, and that it’s not okay. Anger is a beautiful emotion. We just need to express it properly.
 
Does the pitch of ATLWCS meets In Memoriam fit this book? Well, it’s written in a dual timeline and gives us an insight into German life during those years, like ATLWCS, and has poetical writing and queer characters surviving a war, like In Memorial. But that’s where the similarities end. I believe The Lilac People is a unique story on its own that provides insight into a mostly unknown part of history. I also highly recommend the author’s note in the back (also about the Institute because its owner, Hirschfeld, had a messy and tangled relationship with racism, misogyny, and eugenics).

History isn’t artifacts or pictures or things. History is the people who made them. The history is us. And we’ll keep passing it on.

Follow me on Instagram

 

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

A novel that covers such an important topic, the transgender community in pre-Nazi and Nazi Germany. Appreciate Milo Todd for writing about the atrocities of this time period as well as how LGBTQ+ folks came together to support one another even amidst grave injustice. Unfortunately I found the writing itself rather dry and one-note, though of course the subject matter of the novel stands out and is worth paying attention to.

[Jen Albano · Rating 5 out of 5]

Devastating. Beautiful. Powerful. Important. Necessary.

So often history is erased or changed, especially queer history. Todd does not shy away from the reality endured by queers during World War ll. He makes you face it head on and does not let you look away. This story is one that will haunt my heart and mind for a long time to come. This book is devastating. This book is hopeful. This book is so, so important.

When we don’t truly learn our history, we are doomed to repeat it. Reading this, while watching the queer community be attacked, specifically the trans and drag communities, really drives that home. I fear for my community, I fear for my friends, I fear for myself. I hope we are not doomed to repeat what these beautiful souls had to endure.

[Doug · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the joys of being an avid, eclectic reader is discovering fairly unknown works that are so good and revelatory that you want to encourage everyone you know just to read it ASAP. It doesn't happen all that often, unfortunately, but so it was for me with this stunning debut novel.

Told in two different time frames: pre-war 1932 Berlin and 1945 post liberation in Ulm - it follows a trans man, Bertie, and his cisgendered partner, Sofie, as they try to survive. The author did a ton of research, which shows, but not in a Wiki sort of way; it's beautifully integrated into the storyline.

I was not aware that when the Allies liberated the death camps, those bearing the pink and black triangles were sent BACK into them, to 'finish' their sentences for breaking Nazi law Paragraph 175. It's a bit disconcerting to read a WW2 novel in which the villain is an American soldier - but apparently historically accurate.

I listened to an hour-long podcast with the author, who says he finished the book just prior to the re-election of Mango Mussolini - but the parallels to what is happening NOW in the US and what went on in Nazi Germany are eerily similar - and frightening. You can listen to that here: https://momadvice.com/post/milo-todd-....

Todd also wrote an illuminating article on his research for Lit Hub, which can be accessed here:
https://lithub.com/uncovering-the-for...

I read a library copy, but upon completion, I paid this marvel the ultimate compliment - because I wanted to support both the author AND the local SF small press that published it, I bought my very own copy to keep - as I am sure at some point I will reread it - and it WILL make my top 5 books of the year. Nevertheless, an inspiring and gorgeously written book and highly recommended. And what a great cover!

[Aleigh · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 beautiful, heartbreaking stars. I'm a historical fiction/WWII junkie, and I have never read a story like this. The Lilac People is a painfully raw look into the life of the transgender community in Germany pre-Nazi & during the Nazi regime. I'm sad to say that many times throughout this book I was reminded of the ignorance of our current society towards those who don't fit into a box, and that maybe we aren't all that far off from 1930/40s Germany. Scary, scary thought.

I learned a ton in this book, of the vibrant, supportive, and thriving "third sex" community in Berlin, of the history of transgender people and the path they paved for the future, and of the incredibly unjust and disgusting treatment of them during the war.

I can't say enough about how beautiful this book is - a masterpiece of art that proves, despite the odds against them, the transgender community did, and will continue, to move onward.

Bertie, Sofie, Karl, & Gert have my whole heart. Lovely to read the author's note at the end, detailing the historically true & accurate references of many the people, places, & things in this book.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Listen to Milo Todd on the Book Gang Podcast NOW! Milo Todd is Reclaiming Trans History is now streaming. Click here to tune in! If you love the show, please consider joining my Patreon.

***

I found The Lilac People one of the most eye-opening historical fiction novels I've ever read. Before I read this story, I had little knowledge of the trans community in the 1920s or of Dr. Hirschfeld's groundbreaking work. His research played a significant role in making the dreams of many of his patients a reality, and it's striking how quickly that progress could be taken away from them.

The story follows Bertie, a trans man working at the Institute for Sexual Science under the renowned Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld. The clinic is not only a hub for its patients; it is also open to the community, offering locals tours to understand trans surgeries and care and hosting conversations on contraceptive care and disease prevention.

Bertie and his friends revel in their newfound freedoms there, but their world is upended when Hitler comes to power. The institute was raided, queer individuals were targeted, and the community they built shattered. Bertie and his girlfriend, Sofie, barely escape to a rural farm where they assume new identities, living in secrecy for over a decade.

As the war nears its end, their fight for survival becomes bleaker when they discover Karl, a young trans man who has just fled his circumstances and offers chilling information about what is happening to people in the community. Even as the Allies liberated the concentration camps, queer prisoners continued to be persecuted, reimprisoned and denied justice. Faced with the devastating reality that their safety remains uncertain, Bertie, Sofie, and Karl decide to flee to the United States. However, it comes at the cost of concealing their true selves once again.

Todd's novel is not just an evocative piece of historical fiction—it's an urgent and vital reclamation of LGBTQ+ history. One of the most striking aspects of this story is how eerily familiar the rollback of progress feels, drawing unavoidable parallels to current political climates. In Hitler's first two months, he had erased passports, chosen names, and the small cloak of safety provided by medical professionals. Through many scenes, I held my breath and worried for each of these characters in ways that made my heart beat furiously- I could not turn my pages fast enough.

Milo Todd's storytelling is powerful, humanizing history in a way that ensures it won't be forgotten. I cannot wait to hear more about the research and inspiration behind this novel when Todd joins us for Pride Month on the Book Gang Podcast. This unforgettable and necessary book should be on every reader's shelf.

Thank you to Counterpoint for the advanced copy for our show- this novel will hit store shelves on April 29th!

[Taury · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Lilac People by Milo Todd is a powerful book! As we read books NF and F about WW2 a segment lf culture is often missing, overlooked or underrated. It is pretty known Hilter suffered from sever homophobia. I have even heard rumors he was secretly gay. As you read this powerful, yet intriguing novel you will learn who The Lilac People are. It is important to know how all cultures were persecuted during WW2 before, during and even after…even in the United States

[Ditte · Rating 1 out of 5]

Dnf @ 52% and I skimmed the ending.

I went into The Lilac People so excited! It really felt like it was exactly suited to my interests - Weimar Germany in the early 1930s with a focus on queer and trans rights and history!

I'd already read some about the period prior to this book, and was really interested in having a book set during this time as it's an important but less generally known part of queer history. Sadly, The Lilac People didn't work for me.

While reading, it felt like the book wanted to do too much and was trying too hard. This tended to lead to a lack of nuance and depth since The Lilac People attempted to cover almost too much in its 300 some pages.

The book had lots of promise but ultimately, the writing style wasn't for me. The random German words also took me out of the book while reading, and while the narrator tried their best, they struggled with the German terms and place-names.

Thank you to the publisher for the audio ARC.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book. It is well crafted and you can tell that Todd did deep research and then took that to make a beautiful story. There were choices that felt a bit heavy handed to me, but overall it was an enjoyable and thought provoking read about complicity, survivors guilt, and trauma.

[james · Rating 3 out of 5]

covers a very important part of trans history but it’s just not a very good book, i’m sorry to say

[heptagrammaton · Rating 2 out of 5]

Too close to not affect, too far away to effect, perhaps.

A book can be heartfelt and important and timely, and still be kind of bad.
   This felt over-expository, full of somewhat clumsy dialogue that would have been much more tolerable to my mind as narration.
   The Lilac People's use of language is also somewhat dubious, a grammatically mismatched, jutting attitude to loan words. I got into a somewhat hissy mood as early as the epigraph, which forwent noun capitalizations in Heine for no reason (I'm going to guess that most actually native speakers of German won't be bothered about that much. But I was taught how to write by persnickety philologists. Pedantry is in me, and I am in pedantry.)

P.S. Baer is the same name as Ber in spoken language tho?????????????
   Baer ≡ Bär ≈ Ber = [bɛɐ̯] (or, like /bɛr/, depending on the accent. Frau Ber might pronounce it that way.)
   Note on the [ɛː]/[ɛ] - like, you are not going to hear the elongated vowel of the umlaut. It might not be there. I gaslit myself several times around in/out of believing in its existence whilst going about writing these paragraphs.

[Louis Muñoz · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.25 stars, highly recommend. I learned so much from this novel, including how LGBTQ+ prisoners in the German concentration camps were the only prisoners not released by the Allies - us!! - at the end of WWII. I also really appreciated being immersed in Weimar Germany and what life was like before the Nazis came in; the period atmosphere and details were spot on. There was a fair amount of suspense involved in this story as well, and even though I wouldn't call the plots perfectly laid out, I was on tenterhooks for what would happen. Lastly, the story greatly moved me throughout and most especially at the end. A great effort by Milo Todd. (Side note: One of the most beautiful book covers of the year! KUDOS!)

Many thanks to NetGalley, the author, and the publishers for a digital ARC of this book in exchange for my honest opinions.

[Amie · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Lilac People by Milo Todd is a heart wrenching historical fiction novel. So tragic, but so important.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Dreamscape Media for the audiobook copy in exchange for a review.

Audio narration is well done. 👍👍

Before I listened to this audiobook, I never knew the extent of the queer history of Germany in the 1930s and 1940s. I only had a vague idea of Berlin’s vibrant LGBTQ+ population pre-WW2 because I’ve been to Berlin and watched the tv show Transparent.

Before the Third Reich, trans people in Berlin briefly experienced an enlightened period where they had many freedoms. Many of them even had the opportunity to get surgery at Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld’s Institute of Sex Research and many were able to carry cards with their true identities and chosen names. Then, to have all the progress ripped from them as many of them were sent to concentration camps, adorned with pink triangles, tortured at the hands of the Nazis.

When the camps were freed by the ally troops, the few that survived from the German queer community were still treated awfully. Many were re-imprisoned. Nazi laws against homosexuality were not repealed in Germany until 1969.

For the queer people who “passed” as cis/het, they were harassed by the allies for being German when ally soldiers heard their German accents. They were unable to speak of the torture they endured at camps at the hands of Nazi Germans, for fear of re-imprisonment by the same people who had just set them free. It was a never-ending torment and shame for who they were and who they weren’t.

“Hold steady, fellow Lilac People. We will see this heartache through. We have received word that a prison has opened in Dachau. They are calling it a work camp. Specifically built to house transvestites, inverts, and political opponents of Adolf Hitler. Rumor has it there are plans to build many more as time goes on. Be careful out there, friends. Do not draw attention to yourselves.” - the Lilac People

The book focuses on three main characters- Bertie, Sofie, and Carl as they grapple with shame, fear, identity, love, grief and ever changing politics in Europe in the 1930s and 40s. Bertie was a trans employee at the Institute of Sex Research. Sofie is his girlfriend. After faking their own suicides, they were taken in during Hitler’s regime and stayed at a fellow trans friend’s family farm. That friend never returned from the camps after his arrest. After the war, Carl, another trans man, stumbles onto their farm for sanctuary after release from Dachau.

This book succeeded in breaking my heart but also forcing me look up the parts of LGBTQ+ history that I was unfamiliar with from this time period.

“He did not know how to convince Ward that innocent people had many reasons to hide.” -Bertie

“I just realized we escaped the Americans to go to America” - Sofie

There is of course an irony that American soldiers become “the bad guys” in the end of the book. In recent years, the US military has been the single largest employer of transgender people in the US, but in a continuation of the bigotry their community faces, Trump recently issued an executive order banning transgender people from the US military and forcing removal of those who currently serve.

“No person should encourage the suffering of another. There’s already too much given by nature. And when a person encourages the suffering of another, you can bet it won’t stop there. They want to see it because they hope it will fill the emptiness inside themselves, but it won’t. Because it never does. And so they’ll look for the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. Any invert who thinks Hitler will stop at transvestites is a fool.” -The Lilac People

It is shameful that society continues to repeat errors of the past and needlessly harasses the queer and trans communities. There’s a reason this history is not well known - it was the banning and burning of both people and books and the deliberate erasure of their history. And to the people who gave this book 1 star and never read it, you’re one of the “empty ones.”

———————————————
A real quote attributed to Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld:

“Soon the day will come when science will win victory over error, justice a victory over injustice, and human love a victory over human hatred and ignorance.”

[Aly Lauck · Rating 5 out of 5]

Love this one. I will also note, that these atrocities are preventable in these next generations to come. History always sides in favor of the marginalized. We want to make sure we remain inclusive here and learn from history, not repeat it.

[laurel [the suspected bibliophile] · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bertie and his wife Sofia have survived the horrors of Nazi Germany. Bertie, a trans man, escaped with Sofia into the countryside and assumed the identities of an old farmer couple when they died. They've lived in isolation for years—and now their country has been liberated by the Americans. Except while the Americans are freeing Jewish and political prisoners from the nearby concentration camp of Dachau, they are rounding up transgender and queer prisoners and keeping them imprisoned.

This book covers an aspect of the Nazi concentration and death camps that aren't much talked about—what happened to the gay and transgender people who were imprisoned and killed? What happened to those who managed to lie low during the war, and what was the price of their survival?

Examining the cost of survival and the hypocrisy of America, this was a fascinating read—and one that has deep parallels with what is happening in the US today.

[jess · Rating 3 out of 5]

Honestly not sure how I feel about this one. I think I like the idea behind it more than the execution. The book felt a little to me like reading R.F. Kuang’s work: you can tell there is a lot of research and intention behind the book, but as a literary work, it’s less successful.

I enjoyed the focus on queer and trans lives in 1930s Berlin. I feel like this is an era and demographic of history that is often unexplored, especially in German history. That said, I struggled with how didactic parts of the book were. I imagine Milo Todd wanted to shed light on more forgotten parts of history, but the execution of it was very heavy-handed. There were paragraphs that would have been at home on museum placards. If you are already familiar with this information, you’ll probably find yourself skimming these parts.

There is also a weird insistence on certain German words and spellings as if Todd is concerned that readers will forget the book takes place in Germany. But these “Germanizations” don’t really make grammatical sense in any language, and inaccuracies end up undermining any attempt at authenticity. For example, America is always spelled the German way (Amerika). Okay, fine. But then American will be written with a “k,” which makes no sense, because the German word for American is “amerikanisch.” So it’s a strange amalgamation that exists in neither language. Or there was one sentence that described a “deutsch winter”when simply saying winter would’ve sufficed. We know Bertie is describing a German winter because he’s describing the winter he’s experiencing…in Germany… Fräulein is spelled wrong multiple times. At one point, Bertie is addressed simply as “Herr,” in a direct translation of the English “sir,” but Herr is not used that way in German. And one last nitpick is that when Bertie and Sofie are speaking English, the author tries to show their lack of fluency by having them constantly speak in the present progressive (“we are wanting…”). This is the opposite of how native German speakers tend to speak English because the present progressive doesn’t exist in German! They tend to say things like “we go to the store” when native English speakers would say “we are going to the store.” I don’t think this will be an issue for most readers, but if you are familiar with the German language, you might find yourself taken out of the story in these moments.

All of that aside, I do want to emphasize how crucial it is to publish and read queer and trans narratives of both historical and present day timelines. While the style choices in this book may not have worked for me, I don’t want to overlook the significance of the subjects and hope that this book encourages more readers to learn about times both joyful and devastating in queer and trans lives.

[Claire Askew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Devastating, tender, moving. This book is so clearly a work of love, of the profound witnessing and abiding-with that love is. Thank you, Milo Todd. Thank you, queer ancestors. "They never get all of us. They try, but they never do." Deeply chilling to read this, close to a century later, in another era of fascist horrors. An incredible gift to the world - may we receive it fully.

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 stars

This book is so important and informative about a topic that I knew very little about, but it really did not work for me. I would give this book 4 stars for how much I think it's needed, but my actual reading experience was like 2 stars at best.

In 1932, Bertie lives a mostly safe life as a trans man in Berlin working at the Institute of Sexual Sciences, but unrest is growing and Germany is steadily becoming a very bad place to be non-standard. In 1945, after the Allies gain control over Germany, Bertie and his partner Sofie find another trans man released from a work camp in the backyard of the house they've spent the war hiding in. As American soldiers reimprison queer people, Bertie, Sofia, and Carl must escape a new evil. I love sad books, I love queer historical books, and I'm ashamed to say that before reading this I didn't know Americans had recaptured the queer people who escaped from the Nazis, nor did I know about the extent of the social progressive movement in Germany prior to WWII. In terms of education, this book is so crucial, and yet I really can't recommend it. Part of it was the narrator, who I recognized immediately because I really dislike his narration. It's grating at positive moments and offensively melodramatic at darker ones. It's also just immensely difficult to absorb any feelings of hope or community from the end of this book given the current political climate. As a trans man, this really just felt existentially depressing.

Nothing wrong with the writing, but I just wish my reading experience was better. The reasons this book are important are also the ones that make it nearly unreadable.

Thank you to Milo Todd and Dreamscape Media for this ARC in exchange for my full, honest review!

Happy reading!

[summer⁎ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ · Rating 5 out of 5]

oh my god. rtc

[Angela · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a heart-wrenching glimpse into the world of the LGBTQ+ community during World War 2. There are simply not words strong enough to convey the tragedies suffered, but it is a story that needed to be told.
I found myself at times hopeful, terrified, exhausted, and sad, sometimes all at once. The cast of characters was not only believable but a nod to those who endured the war years. My heart broke for their losses and I cheered for their triumphs.
To any reader of historical fiction, and especially to readers of LGBTQ+ literature, "The Lilac People" is a must read.
My thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for an advance reader copy in exchange for my honest review.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Really poor execution of a compelling topic.

[Book Riot Community]

Book Riot’s Best Historical Fiction Books of the Century So Far:

Atonement by Ian McEwan is one of the most well-known WWII historical fiction books of this century: the 2001 novel was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, was made into an Oscar-winning movie, and Time named it one of the 100 greatest novels of all time. Given how many award-winning books have been written in this setting, it can feel like every possible angle has been covered—but The Lilac People proves that idea wrong. It follows trans men struggling to survive both Nazis and Allied forces, revealing the little-known history of Allied forces keeping queer Holocaust survivors imprisoned. This is an original and much-needed addition to the genre. —Danika Ellis

[Blayne Bordwine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can’t say enough about this book. Probably my book of the year! It’s clear how much time and effort the author put into writing this piece.

Honestly, at times it was hard to read and I had to put the book down. Many of the nazi era practices are alarmingly similar to those happening today. However, I found it quite empowering that trans and queer people have always been around and have always found a way to survive. This should be a required reading.

I’ll think about this book often.

[Kyle Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Incredible book that illuminates histories often forgotten. I learned a lot, and I was moved by the story. The writing was a little uneven at points for me, but I’d still highly recommend this book.

[Jen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gutting. Gorgeous. I can't stop thinking about it.

[Debra Shaughnessy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a powerful historical novel about a trans man and his partner trying to survive during and after World War II.
It highlights a lesser-known history—how gay and transgender people were persecuted not only by the Nazis but even after liberation. The story is emotional, raw, and deeply human, focusing on love, identity, and resilience. It’s a moving, eye-opening book that blends heartbreak with hope.

“Love became their rebellion when the world tried to strip them of humanity”

[Incunabula_and_intercourse · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars, rounded down for entirely personal reasons.
Disclaimer before we begin: I am a queer, gender non-conforming, chronically ill, leftist Jew with a direct familial connection to the Holocaust. I know that other people were targeted, and I also know that being Jewish and relating to the Holocaust is less a matter of "if I was there" and more "someone I know was there." About two-thirds of European Jews and half of European Romani people were killed. The worldwide Jewish population peaked in 1939 and has still not recovered. My family tree was cut in half; I am older than many of my ancestors ever got to be.
This was always going to be a triggering topic. My hope was that this book, in bringing to light how queer people suffered during the Holocaust, would be respectful of history. Alas! I ask for too much from white people.
(I have no way to confirm this, but I'm betting money that Milo Todd is white and not Jewish. Either that, or he has a lot to unpack.)

The prewar portions were the best part of the book. The writing was a little clumsy at times, but otherwise, it was a lovely and tragic look at life for trans men during Hitler's rise to power with clear (almost too clear) parallels to modern America. My only real complaint is Magnus Hirschfeld's canary speech. Yes, trans people are a vulnerable population and one of the first to be targeted in the United States; however, I doubt that a European Jewish man would be declaring trans people as the canaries, since, you know, we've also historically been the first set on fire when times are tough. It's a like cart before the horse, too. Judaism wasn't hated because of its connection to queer people; queer people were hated because of their supposed connected to Jews. Otherwise, I felt many things; had it been a standalone novella, I would easily give it 4-4.5 stars. It's the postwar section that loses me.

First problem: ten page intro about Bertie and Sofie's cutesy little cottagecore life, where somehow they didn't need rations because they had potatoes and a dairy cow. My expertise is more French than German, and it's true that rural French people did better than Parisians, but c'mon. Second problem: When Karl shows up, he's fresh out of Dachau and completely emaciated. A few hearty meals later and he's right back on his feet. In reality, troops had to be incredibly careful when refeeding rescued inmates, lest they induce refeeding syndrome and kill them; many survivors of Bergen-Belsen and Ebensee died when soldiers gave them food too heavy for their weakened bodies to digest, and many Dachau inmates were not fed at all until they could get medical attention. A good meal should have killed Karl, not saved him.
Third problem: everything with the American occupation. Why not have a sub-list?
• Yes, the Allies did not always conduct themselves with honor, often soliciting sex in exchange for food or outright raping women and children. However, this portrayal outright feels like cartoon villainy. The truth is that some soldiers solicited local girls for sex, while others gave them chocolate with no strings attached.
• Ward especially feels like a moustache-twirling villain whose sole motivation is "round up the evil Nazis and transes mwahahahaha." Setting aside the fact that I'm meant to view a Nazi hunter with scorn, it feels ridiculous that he would just barge into people's homes and yell English at them. I'd expect him to direct more suspected Nazis into interrogation rooms and let the Ritchie boys take the reigns. The Allies did use interpreters, and many of them were Jewish refugees, because unlike what this book seems to think, we did more than die and hide; we fought back.
• Generally, we're meant to feel sad that the poor widdle German civilians are being forced to do labor and look at things stolen from concentration camp victims, oh, those poor souls :( my mom never had grandparents but I'm sure it was so hard for you guys :( :(
• Bertie has this big monologue about how America never really cared about the Jews and treat Jewish survivors horribly. While this is undeniably true... Bitch, do you care about the Jews? There are no named Jewish characters for most of the book other than Hirschfeld (whose Jewishness is mentioned in like one line), and the other one we get... We'll see. Coming from a gentile man who spent the entire war (not unreasonably, to be fair) hiding from the Nazis and his own neighbors, he comes across as a hypocrite.
• When Bertie and Sofie's cover is blown, they fake being Jews. And, you know. Setting aside the racefaking, Ward really acts stupidly. He asks to see Bertie's dick, because apparently the one thing he (and by extension, Milo Todd?) knows about Jews is circumcision. This is obviously sexual harassment, but I also fail to see what's so evil about questioning if someone is Jewish, because yeah, what if a Nazi officer lied to escape arrest? Am I supposed to think it's a bad thing to rule out that possibility?? Anyways, Karl saves them with a long speech about fleeing persecution that still doesn't really prove they're Jewish, and Ward somehow lets them go for the time being. See, if I were Ward, a WASP American soldier afraid of Jew-faking Nazis, I'd just let my interpreter freestyle.

Bertie: We're Jews!
Ward: Huh. (turning to interpreter) Take it from here, Rosenthal.
Interpreter: Yes, sir. Alright, Herr Baumann, what's the blessing for wine? (silence) Nu, I'll even start it for you. Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam bore pri ha... (silence) Yeah no sir these ain't no Jews :)

Fourth problem: Karl's Dachau monologue. I'm sure it's meant to be very emotional and dark, but the overuse of short sentences and fragments for like seven whole pages without a hint of non-period punctuation, coupled with a lack of body language or reactions, makes this unintentionally hilarious. It's like a Doctor Seuss book about camp rape.
Fifth problem: faking passports. In reality, using the wrong kind of stitching gets you exposed as a faker spy.
Sixth problem: Frau Baer. At first, she's a busybody neighbor and possible antagonist, but then Bertie hides from Ward at her place and she reveals that surprise, she's actually Jewish and her real name is Ber! Lol wut!!! As far as I can tell, Ber is a first name rather than a family name, and either way, it's not exactly the Jewish tell that Spektor, Margulies, or Katz are. Plus, this twist isn't foreshadowed in the slightest. She has no reaction to the line-up of stolen Jewish belongings and regularly attends church without so much as a slip of the tongue or a disgusted look when she's forced to say Jesus's name. She casually mentions losing her entire family as if it were a favorite shirt and not her flesh-and-blood relatives. Plus, the idea of a Jewish woman being about to hide out in the open with little more than a fake name is ludicrous. I do not believe it for a second—nor do I believe that a single Jewish sensitivity reader looked this over before publication.
Seventh problem: pacing. The natural climax is Bertie, Sofie, and Karl fleeing Ward, being separated, and then tearfully reuniting at the ferry, which has been their goal for the last 200 pages, right? But instead, we waste 80 more on the ferry journey, the discomfort at almost everyone else on board being a Nazi, and the stress of having to trick the American immigration officer once they reach New York. Frankly, we could have ended at the reunion, and then cut to an epilogue where they're in NYC with their new passports and Roy, and all we would have lost is a whole load of virtue signaling about how evil America is for letting in Nazis.
Eighth problem: Bertie and Sofie, explicitly, did nothing for the war effort. They did not take up arms, did not blow up factories, did not even hide refugees or partisans in the rafters. All they did was keep their heads down and try to survive. I wouldn't have been bothered by this had they not kept calling attention to it and how guilty they feel for not doing anything, but really it's okay that they didn't do anything because what else could have been done? I'd love to leave these wimps alone in a room with Willem "tell people that homosexuals are not cowards" Arondeus and see what happens.

My final issue is how this book seems to think being Jewish was easier than being queer or trans. This is a common misconception among non-Romani and non-Jewish members of the LGBTQ+ community. They don't acknowledge the severe criminalization that Romani people faced, including no reparations for decades and still being treated as subhuman vermin to this day. They don't acknowledge the Jewish people killed by their former neighbors when they tried to reclaim their stolen homes and businesses. They don't acknowledge the lack of exit visas for displaced Jews. They don't acknowledge that many displaced persons camps were repurposed concentration camps. To claim we had it easier just because the Allies didn't immediately throw us in jail is laughable at best and outright antisemitic at worst. It is entirely possible to bring other victims of the Holocaust to light without implying that the allies decided that "[the Jews] have suffered enough," the way Todd does; you guys just rarely seem willing to do so.

One day, Milo Todd will write a book about trans history without an "I am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me?" type attitude. Today is not that day.

[froschpapi]

DNF @ 14 %

Das ist der Satz, der mich gebrochen hat:
"Icke? Na, as pretty of a schnieke Ische you are, we seem to've had too much pee lemonade tonight, wa?"

Schade, denn thematisch finde ich das Buch klasse und unglaublich wichtig, aber die Umsetzung finde ich wirklich schrecklich! Can't do it.

[Drew Miller · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was beautiful. I learned so much about queer history through this story, and it was a solid balance of absolute devastation and hope. Highly recommend and can’t wait to visit Berlin and see the institute in the future🫶