Rural America has a huge KKK problem. And to make matters worse, they’ve evolved over time. Sure, they still burn crosses and have fancy little parades in town where they get to show off their white hoods. But their methods of terrorism have aligned more closely with modern Neo-Nazi groups. And I’m not talking about just the overt methods, like publicly berating, assaulting, and murdering people. The covert methods they utilize are far more insidious and damaging: stalking people, trying to physically run drivers off of the road, twisting the arms of people—even doctors and dentists—to do their bidding for them, ruining reputations and careers, breaking into your email accounts, and etc.
And if all that wasn’t good enough for them, the KKK started making “friends” with other groups like cartels in Mexico and terrorists in the Middle East where they network. And why shouldn’t they? After all, they share many common goals. So what do you do when they decide to attack?
You can’t go to the County Sheriff for help because Ol’ Bucky’s been a dues-paying member since 1989. You can’t go to the State Police because Ol’ Bucky’s brothers, cousins, and in-laws are all State Boys. And you most certainly can’t go to police in other counties or cities because, well, Ol’ Bucky’s got “friends” there, too. If you’re Jewish, you go straight to the Jewish community and get help. But if you’re a mischling, well, you have to help yourself, because you already know that **nobody** is coming to save you. As I read Anne-Marie O’Connor’s book, “The Lady in Gold: The Extraordinary Tale of Gustav Klimt's Masterpiece, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer,” this story became more and more personal, in more ways than one. One of O’Connor’s quotes summed up my own ancestry perfectly:
“Like many things and many people in Austria, the bunker beneath the Belvedere possessed a mysterious pedigree.”
O’Connor introduces readers to so many different lives. Adele Bloch-Bauer is, of course, the most prominent. But the author delves into the lives of nearly everyone who is connected to her. And, like the quote above, it seemed like **everyone** had a story similar to my own:
My grandmother was born in Vienna, and she was definitely Austrian, as were both her parents. But they were born in Moravia (now the Czech Republic). Her grandparents were also Czech-born Moravians, except for her grandfather, who was Jewish Hungarian. Her mother and uncle—both mischlings—were taken to the synagogue in Vienna while they were still children and were formally converted to Judaism, although they both kept practicing the state religion, Catholicism. So what was my grandmother? Both she and her mother were legally Jewish—as was my father—but she was also a mischling because her father was a gentile. But she didn’t see herself as any of these things; she was an Austrian. And then she became an American after marrying my grandfather—himself a mischling (Native Indigenous and European gentile). So what **was** she? And what does that make me?
The Nazi’s desperately tried to answer these questions, going so far as to create complex inheritance charts, misusing the field of anthropology to focus on their favorite pseudoscience: Eugenics. Passing a slew of laws and engaging in racist attacks that were designed to sever people from their sources of social support, they made the “other” into state enemies. How? Sure, they twisted people’s arms—sometimes literally—but, as O’Connor reveals in this masterpiece, they primarily relied on fear, pseudoscience, propaganda, selfishness, and the overabundance of greed and envy to carry out mass extermination.
If you ask any Jewish person, they will flat out tell you that I am **NOT** Jewish; I’m a mischling—nothing more than a descendant and not a part of The Tribe. But apparently, somebody forgot to give the KKK and Neo-Nazi’s the message. They call me a Jew and treat me just like they would treat a Jewish person. So, you see—excepting the brave Jews and gentiles I’ve met—I get all the hate and none of the love LOL.
But during WWII, things were a bit different, and I appreciate how O’Connor discusses the role of mischlings (or mischlinge in German). In Europe, being classified as a mischling could actually save your life (that is, if you weren’t already classified as an Aryan or as a higher form of ‘sub-human’). Sure, you were still in a precarious situation—nobody really liked you, they publicly humiliated you, other people dictated who you could or couldn’t marry, you couldn’t find a job, and etc.—but at least you stood a greater chance of not getting shipped off to Auschwitz; you had a chance to live. But at the same time, being a mischling meant that you had to watch all of your Jewish family members and friends die; you would be left all alone.
Being cut off socially from the rest of humanity bothers people, but after I learned that the KKK and Neo-Nazi’s operate in a manner similar to the original Nazi’s—to cut their victims off of social support networks (e.g., family, friends, colleagues, and etc.)—I, and many others before me, learned not to just live with it, but to thumb my nose at it—just like many of the subjects in O’Connor’s book did.
O’Connor did a fantastic job writing about Adele’s life, primarily focusing on her life during fin de siècle Vienna. However, she equally discussed Gustav Klimt’s life (including that of his mistresses and children), the multiple lives of Bloch-Bauer family members and all of their friends, and even Hitler himself. O’Connor told so many fascinating stories but her brilliance as a writer really shone when she proved that she was able to cohesively weave them together, culminating in the story of Adele’s niece, Maria (Bloch-Bauer) Altmann.
I remember when I was younger how I held my breath, asking my grandmother if her grandfather, Gabriel, was alive during WWII. When she answered, “No,” that he died prior to that time, I felt overcome with relief, and then felt immediately shameful afterwards. I was relieved that he didn’t have to suffer through that tyranny and got to die a “normal” death, but ashamed because unlike so many other millions of people, he had a funeral. As I read this book, I found myself feeling the same way about Adele.
This is a book that I could **not** put down. When I was two-thirds done reading this book, though, I realized that I was getting angrier and angrier. I know history and I understand what happened during that era. I know that after the war, Austrian Nazi’s and collaborators,
“…were allowed to paper over their pasts and portray themselves as unwilling participants. They felt sorry for themselves, and for the proud family names sullied with the taint of Nazi collaboration…”
So, of course, restitution for stolen art was out of the question—at least in the minds of the Nazi collaborators. Even today, there’s plenty of stories where KKK/Neo-Nazi victims get huge court-ordered payouts. But those people are the ***exception***, not the rule. The rest of us just try to keep surviving. To some people, it might seem like a made-up tale, but our burgeoning FBI files testify about what we were forced to endure. Everyone, it seems, is determined to keep it all a nasty, little secret. But this is, and has always been, nothing new as O’Connor rightly points out. One of the prime examples that she provides is that of Heinrich Gross who,
“…directed the euthanasia of children and babies who had been the subject of experiments at a notorious clinic at Steinhof hospital. Some eight hundred deemed “unfit” by the Nazis—bed wetters, slow learners, children with harelips—died or were deported. Here children had brain surgery while still conscious, or were monitored while they froze to death. Attempts to prosecute Gross had been quashed since the 1950s. Gross continued to use the brains of the euthanized children, sealed in jars of formaldehyde—a collection he called “unique in the world”—for research that won him the Austrian Cross of Honour for Science and Art in 1975. The next year he attempted a follow-up exam on a survivor, who alerted the press. Opelt [his student] was appalled by the grisly revelations. It disturbed him that so many people kept Professor Gross’s secrets. Some of these secret-keepers had been involved in the crimes. Others simply knew but were afraid of the greater questions they raised, of their own guilt as passive witnesses…”
Everyone—both in the past and the present—whether in Germany, Austria, or even the United States, is determined to hide crimes and criminal complicity, whether they are individuals, police, federal agents, politicians, or government officials. And they won’t stop until someone **makes them** stop. In the Bloch-Bauer family’s case, that someone was Maria (Bloch-Bauer) Altmann. As Helen Mirren, who played Maria, stated in the movie based on this book, The Woman in Gold,
“…They’ll never admit to what they did, because if they admit to one thing, they have to admit to it all.”
How true this statement is! Even today, politicians and local, state, and federal authorities are busily covering up crimes committed not just in the past, but also in the present, by the KKK and Neo-Nazi criminals against fellow American citizens. By turning our suffering into nasty, little secrets, they truly believe that they will all be released from the shame of complicity. Even so, they continue to complain about **their** injustices. As if that wasn’t bad enough, those same types of people have the **audacity** to complain about Holocaust survivors:
“…Had the family left a painting in public hands, Kimmelman wrote, “they would have underscored the righteousness of their battle for restitution and in the process made clear that art, even in these money-mad days, isn’t only about the money…”
That’s certainly an easy argument for Kimmelman to make. But the Bloch-Bauer heirs lost **everything** (money, homes, livelihoods, and for some, even their own lives). Most were forced to immigrate elsewhere—to a foreign land and often with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Altmann’s fight wasn’t just “…about the money…” but justice. Unfortunately, everyone in the world—including art dealers and museums—were looking for a handout, all the while ignoring the fact that their field of expertise was also guilty not just by their ongoing refusal to make restitutions, but by actually trying to hide the evidence of their own wrongdoing.
This book is 100% brilliant and a story that desperately needed to be told. O’Connor goes out of her way to tell a number of different personal stories from a variety of equally differing viewpoints. She includes both endnotes and a bibliography that, while not being as hardcore as an academic book, does provide enough evidence to backup her statements to satisfy the general public.
If you have seen the film already, I encourage you to read this book as well because the book is SO much more detailed. After reading this book, you will see some noticeable differences in the film. Usually, this would bother me excessively, but given the interwoven stories throughout the book, I would venture to guess that the screenwriter(s) found it to be a nearly impossible task to reproduce. I cannot recommend this book enough!