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We Want So Much to Be Ourselves
A German psychoanalyst, his Jewish wife, and their young daughter are swept up in the rising tide of fascism.
Günter Zeitz, psychoanalyst-in-training and the son of a Catholic country doctor, and Josine Rosen, Sigmund Freud’s patient and the daughter of a Jewish shipping magnate, first meet in 1924, in Freud’s Viennese waiting room. As their intense affair develops, Freud arranges for Günter’s appointment to the newly created Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute. Shortly after the move, their daughter Hannah is born. But less than a decade later, all their hopes and ideals are profoundly challenged by political realities so horrific that they are, initially, beyond comprehension.
A heartrending story of love in a time of hatred, an absorbing investigation into the Nazis’ exploitation of psychoanalysis, and a cautionary tale about self-deception and the failures of a people to recognize the lies of their charismatic leader, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves examines the ways science can be corrupted and one’s very identity transformed by historical circumstance.
Günter Zeitz, psychoanalyst-in-training and the son of a Catholic country doctor, and Josine Rosen, Sigmund Freud’s patient and the daughter of a Jewish shipping magnate, first meet in 1924, in Freud’s Viennese waiting room. As their intense affair develops, Freud arranges for Günter’s appointment to the newly created Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute. Shortly after the move, their daughter Hannah is born. But less than a decade later, all their hopes and ideals are profoundly challenged by political realities so horrific that they are, initially, beyond comprehension.
A heartrending story of love in a time of hatred, an absorbing investigation into the Nazis’ exploitation of psychoanalysis, and a cautionary tale about self-deception and the failures of a people to recognize the lies of their charismatic leader, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves examines the ways science can be corrupted and one’s very identity transformed by historical circumstance.
479 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 9, 2026
About the author
Stephen O'Connor
35 books26 followersSTEPHEN OCONNOR is the author of two collections of short fiction, Rescue and Here Comes Another Lesson, and of two works of nonfiction, Will My Name Be Shouted Out?, a memoir, and Orphan Trains: The Story of Charles Loring Brace and the Children He Saved and Failed, narrative history.
His fiction and poetry have appeared in The New Yorker, Conjunctions, TriQuarterly, Threepenny Review, Poetry Magazine, The Missouri Review, The Quarterly, Partisan Review, The Massachusetts Review, Fiction International, and many other places. His essays and journalism have been published in The New York Times, DoubleTake, The Nation, Agni, The Chicago Tribune, The Boston Globe, The New Labor Forum, and elsewhere.
He is a recipient of the Cornell Woolrich Fellowship in Creative Writing from Columbia University; the Visiting Fellowship for Historical Research by Artists and Writers from the American Antiquarian Society; and the DeWitt Wallace/Readers Digest Fellowship from the MacDowell Colony. He lives in New York City and teaches fiction and nonfiction writing in the MFA programs of Columbia and Sarah Lawrence.
For additional information, please visit:www.stephenoconnor.net
"
His fiction and poetry have appeared in The New Yorker, Conjunctions, TriQuarterly, Threepenny Review, Poetry Magazine, The Missouri Review, The Quarterly, Partisan Review, The Massachusetts Review, Fiction International, and many other places. His essays and journalism have been published in The New York Times, DoubleTake, The Nation, Agni, The Chicago Tribune, The Boston Globe, The New Labor Forum, and elsewhere.
He is a recipient of the Cornell Woolrich Fellowship in Creative Writing from Columbia University; the Visiting Fellowship for Historical Research by Artists and Writers from the American Antiquarian Society; and the DeWitt Wallace/Readers Digest Fellowship from the MacDowell Colony. He lives in New York City and teaches fiction and nonfiction writing in the MFA programs of Columbia and Sarah Lawrence.
For additional information, please visit:www.stephenoconnor.net
"
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December 5, 2025“We Want so Much to be Ourselves” by Stephen O’Connor, will be published on June 6, 2026, and you’ll want to pre-order this exquisite novel now.
This story of Gunter Zeitz, a gentile psychoanalyst in Germany during the rise of Hitler, is PERFECTLY paced. O’Connor’s elegant prose gives the reader a realistic and insightful narrative of Gunter’s interior and exterior life from his earliest memories of his mother. This is appropriate (and necessary to the story) since Gunter is a student of Freud. Gunter’s motivations, his dreams, his conscious and unconscious decisions are all critical to what happens to him and his Jewish wife and daughter as his world becomes upended by Nazi Germany.
The study of Nazi Germany and Hitler’s Holocaust is endlessly fascinating, and has been the subject of thousands of books, fiction and non-fiction (sometimes I feel as if I’ve read them all!) What O’Connor has skillfully given us is a look at this period through one man and his family.
Gunther is faced with many almost impossible decisions as the Third Reich rises, and in reading about his decisions and dilemmas, we wonder ourselves: are we the person we imagine ourselves to be? In adversity would we react the way we hope? How does guilt affect us when we fail our own ideals?
The pages flew by as I was reading this family’s existential story as Gunter tries to make sense of the world and strives to make reasonable decisions in an unreasonable world.
We readers have the advantage of knowing history, and the rising tension of wanting to warn Gunter to “get out!” is part of the immersive experience of reading this compelling novel.
If you are interested in the history and evolution of psychoanalysis (as I am!) in relation to Germany before, during, and after WWII, this is the novel for you!
Many thanks again to Bellevue Literary Press for the ARC of another unique and thought-provoking novel.
This story of Gunter Zeitz, a gentile psychoanalyst in Germany during the rise of Hitler, is PERFECTLY paced. O’Connor’s elegant prose gives the reader a realistic and insightful narrative of Gunter’s interior and exterior life from his earliest memories of his mother. This is appropriate (and necessary to the story) since Gunter is a student of Freud. Gunter’s motivations, his dreams, his conscious and unconscious decisions are all critical to what happens to him and his Jewish wife and daughter as his world becomes upended by Nazi Germany.
The study of Nazi Germany and Hitler’s Holocaust is endlessly fascinating, and has been the subject of thousands of books, fiction and non-fiction (sometimes I feel as if I’ve read them all!) What O’Connor has skillfully given us is a look at this period through one man and his family.
Gunther is faced with many almost impossible decisions as the Third Reich rises, and in reading about his decisions and dilemmas, we wonder ourselves: are we the person we imagine ourselves to be? In adversity would we react the way we hope? How does guilt affect us when we fail our own ideals?
The pages flew by as I was reading this family’s existential story as Gunter tries to make sense of the world and strives to make reasonable decisions in an unreasonable world.
We readers have the advantage of knowing history, and the rising tension of wanting to warn Gunter to “get out!” is part of the immersive experience of reading this compelling novel.
If you are interested in the history and evolution of psychoanalysis (as I am!) in relation to Germany before, during, and after WWII, this is the novel for you!
Many thanks again to Bellevue Literary Press for the ARC of another unique and thought-provoking novel.
June 17, 2026
This was a tough book to read. I found it hard to really like the characters, especially Josine. I got the book from Library Thing’s Early Reviewer program because I thought it would be interesting to see how early psychoanalysis was affected by the rise of the Nazis - (did NOT know that Carl Jung collaborated with the Nazi party!). The book is fascinating if you’re interested in that topic, but also just a good look at how ordinary Germans navigated this period. From discounting Hitler, to being outraged by him, to complying and being complicit. A fascinating, if not easy, read.
Review of advance copy
Perhaps I’d simply been pinning too great hopes on Stephen O’Connor’s magisterial portrayal of Nazi monstrousness, “We Want So Much to be Ourselves,” in looking for the novel to give me some sliver of greater comprehension – any more than that would have been truly fantastical thinking – of what made for the adoration of vast numbers of Germans for Adolf Hitler, something I’ve always found hard to fathom, growing up as I did in the immediate wake of the war, with those ghastly images of bulldozers shoveling bodies into mass graves, and now given topicality by my watching dumbfoundedly as three college-educated women of my acquaintance, two of whose fathers served in the fight against the Reich, have shown the same sort of enthusiasm for Donald Trump, even with his having reportedly characterized as "suckers and losers" those who gave their lives in the war and his now having launched a war with Iran whose toll at last count included well over a thousand people, including scores of Iranian schoolchildren and not a few of our own military who have now returned to their native shores in coffins.
Some warrant there was, though, for my looking for some enlightenment about such adoration for despicable leaders, either with the Germans with Hitler or my acquaintances with Trump, from O’Connor’s novel, with how it is, after all, about perhaps the most notable attempt in human history to get at the darker workings of the human psyche, psychoanalysis. Indeed, the novel’s protagonist, Gunter Zeitz, is an analyst himself and at the novel’s start is even undergoing psychoanalysis with Freud, at whose office he even meets his future wife, Josine, who is also undergoing analysis and whom Gunter will come to truly love.
A fortuitous thing, to be sure, the encounter in the great man’s anteroom, and indeed the relationship with Josine will prove a lifelong cherished one for Gunter, though also a fraught one, with how she leaves him twice for other men, neither of whom is anywhere near so admirable as Gunter.
Indeed, a veritable hero he proves himself to be, for all his denial of it, with how he intervenes at his psychoanalytic institute when the Gestapo seizes a female colleague of his, earning himself a broken face for his efforts, and with how he’s the only one in a meeting at the institute to stand up against calls for the institute to bring its therapeutic model more in line with Reich thinking – indeed, it will be the instrument of his downfall, his denunciation of his fellows for their elevation of the Nazi notion of psychoanalysis over the true notion, which he holds as sacrosanct.
The polar opposite of Nazism, he characterizes it as to Josine, with how, unlike Nazism, which “only wants to enslave people,” its goal is “to free people from their neuroses,” something, he insists, everyone at the institute is “entirely dedicated to,” though he allows that there are a couple on staff with less than fully humanitarian sentiments – sentiments which, regrettably, will come to carry the day after the Reich has firmly entrenched itself at the institute and has it acquiescing to Nazism, a capitulation the likes of which we have seen in our own time with law firms and universities all too quick to roll over for Trump in a betrayal of their core principles as reprehensible as the acquiescence of Germans to Hitler for which, as I say, I’d been seeking some greater understanding from O'Connor's book.
To be fair, though, there is a stab in the book at an exploration of the appeal of Nazism for its adherents, with Gunter treating a young Nazi who has been complicit in or an actual participant in the murder of some 5,000 Jews, making for enough resulting bizarre psychic trauma for him – he collects his urine in bottles under his bed, for one thing – that he has been referred by Nazi officialdom to Gunter for treatment.
To no greater understanding of the Nazi phenomenon for me, though, Gunter’s sessions with him — interesting, but short on any real elucidation – though perhaps, in all fairness to O’Connor, there may well be no final or fully satisfying explanation for the Nazi phenomenon, which, with the sheer enormity of its evil, may simply be a bridge too far for psychoanalysis or any other system of human design.
Still, as I say, for all my appreciation even before I took up O’Connor’s book that I might well be on a fool's errand seeking elucidation about something that is finally unknowable, I’d gone looking for some glimmer of greater understanding from the book, which, however faultless it might be on that score, faltered more strictly narratologically with me on a couple of other counts, including what I found to be an overextended time spent on Gunter’s childhood in the book’s beginning as well as a swirl of events at its conclusion so quickly delivered as to fair overwhelm a reader.
Overall, though, a more than worthy exploration of human psychopathology and delusion, O’Connor’s novel, especially, as I say, in these unsettling times of ours with Trump, about whom, in a validation of my own attempt to link the contemporary scene to Nazi Germany, the author himself in an interview remarked on “the deeply disturbing parallels between (Trump’s) policies and those of Hitler.” Moreover, in response to a question from the interviewer wondering if he were impatient for the novel’s publication, given the “clear parallels to what is happening in the U.S. today and the horrific political realities of what led to the rise of Nazism in 1930s Germany,” O’Connor did express impatience for the book to come out soon enough to possibly have some effect on public sentiment before the midterm elections.
We shall see.
Some warrant there was, though, for my looking for some enlightenment about such adoration for despicable leaders, either with the Germans with Hitler or my acquaintances with Trump, from O’Connor’s novel, with how it is, after all, about perhaps the most notable attempt in human history to get at the darker workings of the human psyche, psychoanalysis. Indeed, the novel’s protagonist, Gunter Zeitz, is an analyst himself and at the novel’s start is even undergoing psychoanalysis with Freud, at whose office he even meets his future wife, Josine, who is also undergoing analysis and whom Gunter will come to truly love.
A fortuitous thing, to be sure, the encounter in the great man’s anteroom, and indeed the relationship with Josine will prove a lifelong cherished one for Gunter, though also a fraught one, with how she leaves him twice for other men, neither of whom is anywhere near so admirable as Gunter.
Indeed, a veritable hero he proves himself to be, for all his denial of it, with how he intervenes at his psychoanalytic institute when the Gestapo seizes a female colleague of his, earning himself a broken face for his efforts, and with how he’s the only one in a meeting at the institute to stand up against calls for the institute to bring its therapeutic model more in line with Reich thinking – indeed, it will be the instrument of his downfall, his denunciation of his fellows for their elevation of the Nazi notion of psychoanalysis over the true notion, which he holds as sacrosanct.
The polar opposite of Nazism, he characterizes it as to Josine, with how, unlike Nazism, which “only wants to enslave people,” its goal is “to free people from their neuroses,” something, he insists, everyone at the institute is “entirely dedicated to,” though he allows that there are a couple on staff with less than fully humanitarian sentiments – sentiments which, regrettably, will come to carry the day after the Reich has firmly entrenched itself at the institute and has it acquiescing to Nazism, a capitulation the likes of which we have seen in our own time with law firms and universities all too quick to roll over for Trump in a betrayal of their core principles as reprehensible as the acquiescence of Germans to Hitler for which, as I say, I’d been seeking some greater understanding from O'Connor's book.
To be fair, though, there is a stab in the book at an exploration of the appeal of Nazism for its adherents, with Gunter treating a young Nazi who has been complicit in or an actual participant in the murder of some 5,000 Jews, making for enough resulting bizarre psychic trauma for him – he collects his urine in bottles under his bed, for one thing – that he has been referred by Nazi officialdom to Gunter for treatment.
To no greater understanding of the Nazi phenomenon for me, though, Gunter’s sessions with him — interesting, but short on any real elucidation – though perhaps, in all fairness to O’Connor, there may well be no final or fully satisfying explanation for the Nazi phenomenon, which, with the sheer enormity of its evil, may simply be a bridge too far for psychoanalysis or any other system of human design.
Still, as I say, for all my appreciation even before I took up O’Connor’s book that I might well be on a fool's errand seeking elucidation about something that is finally unknowable, I’d gone looking for some glimmer of greater understanding from the book, which, however faultless it might be on that score, faltered more strictly narratologically with me on a couple of other counts, including what I found to be an overextended time spent on Gunter’s childhood in the book’s beginning as well as a swirl of events at its conclusion so quickly delivered as to fair overwhelm a reader.
Overall, though, a more than worthy exploration of human psychopathology and delusion, O’Connor’s novel, especially, as I say, in these unsettling times of ours with Trump, about whom, in a validation of my own attempt to link the contemporary scene to Nazi Germany, the author himself in an interview remarked on “the deeply disturbing parallels between (Trump’s) policies and those of Hitler.” Moreover, in response to a question from the interviewer wondering if he were impatient for the novel’s publication, given the “clear parallels to what is happening in the U.S. today and the horrific political realities of what led to the rise of Nazism in 1930s Germany,” O’Connor did express impatience for the book to come out soon enough to possibly have some effect on public sentiment before the midterm elections.
We shall see.
August 3, 2026
We Want So Much to Be Ourselves is a powerful, intellectually rich, and emotionally devastating work of historical fiction that explores the fragile intersection of love, identity, psychoanalysis, and political extremism during one of history's darkest eras. In this masterfully crafted novel, Stephen O'Connor examines how ordinary lives become entangled in extraordinary historical events, revealing the devastating consequences of self-deception, ideological manipulation, and the gradual erosion of moral certainty. Combining psychological depth with meticulous historical detail, the novel offers readers a profound meditation on human nature, identity, and survival.
One of the novel's greatest strengths is its remarkable psychological complexity. Through the lives of Günter Zeitz and Josine Rosen, O'Connor explores not only the intimate dynamics of marriage, ambition, and parenthood but also the ways personal identity evolves under immense political and social pressure. Their relationship serves as the emotional heart of the novel, illustrating how love can both endure and fracture when confronted by fear, prejudice, and rapidly changing historical realities.
Particularly compelling is the novel's integration of psychoanalysis into its historical narrative. By placing Sigmund Freud and the emerging field of psychoanalysis at the center of the story, O'Connor provides readers with a fascinating examination of how scientific ideas intended to deepen human understanding can become distorted when confronted by authoritarian ideology. The exploration of psychoanalysis within the context of Nazi Germany offers a uniquely original perspective that distinguishes the novel from more traditional World War II historical fiction.
Another notable strength is the book's nuanced portrayal of the gradual rise of fascism. Rather than depicting tyranny as an abrupt historical event, O'Connor carefully illustrates how ordinary individuals struggle to recognize the danger unfolding around them. The novel thoughtfully examines denial, rationalization, and the seductive appeal of charismatic leadership, demonstrating how societies can slowly normalize extremism before fully grasping its consequences. This measured approach lends the narrative both historical authenticity and enduring contemporary relevance.
The novel also excels in its exploration of identity and belonging. As a Catholic man and a Jewish woman attempt to build a life together amid escalating persecution, the story raises profound questions about cultural identity, loyalty, family, and the forces that shape one's sense of self. O'Connor skillfully demonstrates how political upheaval can transform not only public institutions but also the most intimate aspects of personal existence.
Equally impressive is the emotional depth of the narrative. The presence of Hannah, the couple's young daughter, heightens the emotional stakes while reminding readers that historical tragedies are experienced most painfully through the lives of ordinary families. The novel captures the heartbreak of watching dreams, careers, relationships, and futures slowly unravel under circumstances beyond individual control, creating an experience that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.
Despite engaging with complex historical, psychological, and philosophical themes, the writing remains elegant, immersive, and remarkably accessible. O'Connor balances intellectual inquiry with compelling storytelling, ensuring that readers remain emotionally invested while contemplating larger questions about morality, truth, science, and human behavior. His prose is thoughtful without becoming inaccessible, allowing the novel's emotional and historical power to unfold naturally.
Perhaps the book's most significant achievement is its demonstration that the greatest threats to freedom often emerge gradually through compromise, denial, and misplaced confidence rather than immediate catastrophe. By examining how individuals and institutions respond to rising authoritarianism, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves serves not only as an engrossing historical novel but also as a timeless reflection on the importance of critical thinking, moral courage, and vigilance in the face of political manipulation.
Profound, emotionally resonant, and meticulously researched, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves is an outstanding contribution to historical fiction, psychological literature, and Holocaust-era storytelling. Stephen O'Connor has crafted an unforgettable novel that will captivate readers interested in World War II history, psychoanalysis, literary fiction, philosophy, and deeply human stories about love, identity, resilience, and the enduring struggle to preserve one's humanity in times of unimaginable darkness.
One of the novel's greatest strengths is its remarkable psychological complexity. Through the lives of Günter Zeitz and Josine Rosen, O'Connor explores not only the intimate dynamics of marriage, ambition, and parenthood but also the ways personal identity evolves under immense political and social pressure. Their relationship serves as the emotional heart of the novel, illustrating how love can both endure and fracture when confronted by fear, prejudice, and rapidly changing historical realities.
Particularly compelling is the novel's integration of psychoanalysis into its historical narrative. By placing Sigmund Freud and the emerging field of psychoanalysis at the center of the story, O'Connor provides readers with a fascinating examination of how scientific ideas intended to deepen human understanding can become distorted when confronted by authoritarian ideology. The exploration of psychoanalysis within the context of Nazi Germany offers a uniquely original perspective that distinguishes the novel from more traditional World War II historical fiction.
Another notable strength is the book's nuanced portrayal of the gradual rise of fascism. Rather than depicting tyranny as an abrupt historical event, O'Connor carefully illustrates how ordinary individuals struggle to recognize the danger unfolding around them. The novel thoughtfully examines denial, rationalization, and the seductive appeal of charismatic leadership, demonstrating how societies can slowly normalize extremism before fully grasping its consequences. This measured approach lends the narrative both historical authenticity and enduring contemporary relevance.
The novel also excels in its exploration of identity and belonging. As a Catholic man and a Jewish woman attempt to build a life together amid escalating persecution, the story raises profound questions about cultural identity, loyalty, family, and the forces that shape one's sense of self. O'Connor skillfully demonstrates how political upheaval can transform not only public institutions but also the most intimate aspects of personal existence.
Equally impressive is the emotional depth of the narrative. The presence of Hannah, the couple's young daughter, heightens the emotional stakes while reminding readers that historical tragedies are experienced most painfully through the lives of ordinary families. The novel captures the heartbreak of watching dreams, careers, relationships, and futures slowly unravel under circumstances beyond individual control, creating an experience that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.
Despite engaging with complex historical, psychological, and philosophical themes, the writing remains elegant, immersive, and remarkably accessible. O'Connor balances intellectual inquiry with compelling storytelling, ensuring that readers remain emotionally invested while contemplating larger questions about morality, truth, science, and human behavior. His prose is thoughtful without becoming inaccessible, allowing the novel's emotional and historical power to unfold naturally.
Perhaps the book's most significant achievement is its demonstration that the greatest threats to freedom often emerge gradually through compromise, denial, and misplaced confidence rather than immediate catastrophe. By examining how individuals and institutions respond to rising authoritarianism, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves serves not only as an engrossing historical novel but also as a timeless reflection on the importance of critical thinking, moral courage, and vigilance in the face of political manipulation.
Profound, emotionally resonant, and meticulously researched, We Want So Much to Be Ourselves is an outstanding contribution to historical fiction, psychological literature, and Holocaust-era storytelling. Stephen O'Connor has crafted an unforgettable novel that will captivate readers interested in World War II history, psychoanalysis, literary fiction, philosophy, and deeply human stories about love, identity, resilience, and the enduring struggle to preserve one's humanity in times of unimaginable darkness.
Review of advance copy received from Author
Ahead of reviewing, I need to disclose that the author, Stephen O’Connor, and I are colleagues and friends. I wish I could say that this swayed my opinion of his latest but I honestly do not believe my fondness for the author bears any weight on my feelings for this masterful and timely novel.
Set during the rise of Naziism and through WWII and beyond, Gunter Zeitz’s life is unfurled amidst the complications, complexities, and nuances of what it might have been like to be a moral, yet largely passive, non-Jewish intellectual during the horrific reign of Fascism in Germany in the 1930s and 40s. We mostly follow Zeitz’s perspective and point of view in a close third, made all the more urgent in the present tense. From the first pages, I was locked in and immersed in the idiosyncratic world of this young aspiring psychoanalyst, as he studies under Sigmund Freud, and distinguishes himself, finally, as a teacher and clinician in Berlin.
Psychoanalysis is the study of the self in society and is very concerned with what is hidden from us and also with, ultimately, uncovering important truths about ourselves and being brave enough to uphold them. One of the biggest criticisms of the practice of psychoanalysis is that it centres on the individual and has no bearing on larger geopolitical events. It is a fact that it aims to heals only one person at a time. O’Connor acknowledges and works this angle in We Want So Much To Be Ourselves and invents a theory for young Zeitz that puts him in contrast to this dilemma. Zeitz theorizes “decision points” and tracks key decisions in his client’s lives, in their fantasies, and in their dreams to better understand his own and his client’s minds. Decision points, as I understand them, are key moments when a person has a choice, and turns one way or the other by making that choice—either toward or away from their true self. The theory provides a useful signpost for moral decision making, once you internalize the concept.
Intrinsically, the novel maps this theory onto Nazi Germany, articulating the passivity, the compliance, and the complicity of so many. There is a direct connection, here, between the concept of repression and the German people who, somehow, despite all evidence, claimed not to know what was happening all around them.
We see Zeitz train in psychoanalysis, we see him fall in love, we see him become a father, we see him analyze difficult and intransigent analysands (clients), we see him defend a vulnerable friend, and we see the outcome of his singular bravery. His mundane life is raised to a profound state for the reader because of the privileged intimacy we are afforded to the details of this life. Novels are getting shorter these days but this one bucks the trend at almost 500 pages to give us a truly immersive experience. I read this in hour-long chunks over a week or so, eager at every opportunity to get back to this “life.” It’s a testament to the magic of O’Connor’s invention —the character, the story, and the narrative voice — that this readerly addiction is achieved.
When I was in high school history classes, we were made to watch documentary films that showed the horrors of the Holocaust. We were made to understand that the reason we were watching these images (of starved Jewish, and other marginalized, people) was to ensure that this sort of thing would never happen again. The sick feeling the reader will get as they navigate the rise of Naziism in We So Want to Be Ourselves is not misplaced. Of course, the 1930s and onward are a fraught historical time. But we live them still. The outcomes of the genocide of WWII live on in current geopolitical traumas. We see the Nazi playbook despicably alive and well in modern-day Israel, as it seeks to eradicate Palestinian sovereignty (and life) and also in Trump’s draconian anti-immigrant policies and his funding of ICE at the expense of American food programs.
To read O’Connor’s We Want So Much To Be Ourselves is to face, head on, the way in which history is RIGHT NOW repeating itself. Will we be passive? Will we be compliant? Will our fear of reprisal make us compliant?
We So Want To Be Ourselves poses the question: what are my moral obligations inside my society and how does each “decision point” of that ethical inner self affect the world?
Read Stephen O’Connor’s We So Want To Be Ourselves to become stronger in the face of a world gone mad. That is the novel’s imperative but it is also a deeply compelling and entertaining novel, brilliant and adept. I hope this book stirs the inner truth of many many readers.
Set during the rise of Naziism and through WWII and beyond, Gunter Zeitz’s life is unfurled amidst the complications, complexities, and nuances of what it might have been like to be a moral, yet largely passive, non-Jewish intellectual during the horrific reign of Fascism in Germany in the 1930s and 40s. We mostly follow Zeitz’s perspective and point of view in a close third, made all the more urgent in the present tense. From the first pages, I was locked in and immersed in the idiosyncratic world of this young aspiring psychoanalyst, as he studies under Sigmund Freud, and distinguishes himself, finally, as a teacher and clinician in Berlin.
Psychoanalysis is the study of the self in society and is very concerned with what is hidden from us and also with, ultimately, uncovering important truths about ourselves and being brave enough to uphold them. One of the biggest criticisms of the practice of psychoanalysis is that it centres on the individual and has no bearing on larger geopolitical events. It is a fact that it aims to heals only one person at a time. O’Connor acknowledges and works this angle in We Want So Much To Be Ourselves and invents a theory for young Zeitz that puts him in contrast to this dilemma. Zeitz theorizes “decision points” and tracks key decisions in his client’s lives, in their fantasies, and in their dreams to better understand his own and his client’s minds. Decision points, as I understand them, are key moments when a person has a choice, and turns one way or the other by making that choice—either toward or away from their true self. The theory provides a useful signpost for moral decision making, once you internalize the concept.
Intrinsically, the novel maps this theory onto Nazi Germany, articulating the passivity, the compliance, and the complicity of so many. There is a direct connection, here, between the concept of repression and the German people who, somehow, despite all evidence, claimed not to know what was happening all around them.
We see Zeitz train in psychoanalysis, we see him fall in love, we see him become a father, we see him analyze difficult and intransigent analysands (clients), we see him defend a vulnerable friend, and we see the outcome of his singular bravery. His mundane life is raised to a profound state for the reader because of the privileged intimacy we are afforded to the details of this life. Novels are getting shorter these days but this one bucks the trend at almost 500 pages to give us a truly immersive experience. I read this in hour-long chunks over a week or so, eager at every opportunity to get back to this “life.” It’s a testament to the magic of O’Connor’s invention —the character, the story, and the narrative voice — that this readerly addiction is achieved.
When I was in high school history classes, we were made to watch documentary films that showed the horrors of the Holocaust. We were made to understand that the reason we were watching these images (of starved Jewish, and other marginalized, people) was to ensure that this sort of thing would never happen again. The sick feeling the reader will get as they navigate the rise of Naziism in We So Want to Be Ourselves is not misplaced. Of course, the 1930s and onward are a fraught historical time. But we live them still. The outcomes of the genocide of WWII live on in current geopolitical traumas. We see the Nazi playbook despicably alive and well in modern-day Israel, as it seeks to eradicate Palestinian sovereignty (and life) and also in Trump’s draconian anti-immigrant policies and his funding of ICE at the expense of American food programs.
To read O’Connor’s We Want So Much To Be Ourselves is to face, head on, the way in which history is RIGHT NOW repeating itself. Will we be passive? Will we be compliant? Will our fear of reprisal make us compliant?
We So Want To Be Ourselves poses the question: what are my moral obligations inside my society and how does each “decision point” of that ethical inner self affect the world?
Read Stephen O’Connor’s We So Want To Be Ourselves to become stronger in the face of a world gone mad. That is the novel’s imperative but it is also a deeply compelling and entertaining novel, brilliant and adept. I hope this book stirs the inner truth of many many readers.
June 24, 2026
We are, at this very minute, struggling for the soul of our nation. from We Want So Much to Be Ourselves by Stephen O’Connor
“A buffoon!” Could such a man be taken seriously? Could such a man become the leader of a country? And as he did rise and take power, what could people do? Roll with the punches, “take it one step at a time,” leave your homeland, or capitulate to survive, raising your arm with a “Heil Hitler”?
Dr. Gunter Zeitz, a psychoanalyst who trained with Sigmund Freud, wants to heal. He fell in love with one of his mentor’s patients and they have a daughter, Hannah. Gunter is Christian, Josine is Jewish. Her illness strains their relationship as she leaves him and returns and leaves again. Gunter struggles to protect his relationship with Hannah. His personal turmoil is matched by what is happening in Germany under the rise of Hitler. He sees collogues dismissed, his profession taken over by the state. He can’t watch in silence.
The dehumanizing tenents of Nazism affects everyone, its victims and its perpetrators. Gunter is ordered to treat a young soldier who has embraced Nazism, who carried out his orders; it has left him unhinged. The soldier realizes that he murdered the man he had believed he had been, just victims survived only by “becoming someone you couldn’t recognize as yourself.”
The novel is harrowing to read. We see a country and its people transformed, accepting the impossible, while those who resist are imprisoned in camps. Innocents are murdered by those who are desperate to justify their beliefs.
Early in the novel, Gunter and Freud discuss what is beautiful in life. Freud said that Rilke contended that only the eternal is beautiful, but Freud believed the eternal was the ‘antihuman.’ Hannah tells Gunter that “the only beautiful thing is the human struggle to oppose all that heartlessness, all that mechanical, brainless stuff. And to create goodness, good people. And beauty itself.”
We all wish to ‘be ourselves,’ the ideal of who we think we are. But the world and it’s machinations distort and pressure us into someone else. Beauty is in the struggle.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book.
“A buffoon!” Could such a man be taken seriously? Could such a man become the leader of a country? And as he did rise and take power, what could people do? Roll with the punches, “take it one step at a time,” leave your homeland, or capitulate to survive, raising your arm with a “Heil Hitler”?
Dr. Gunter Zeitz, a psychoanalyst who trained with Sigmund Freud, wants to heal. He fell in love with one of his mentor’s patients and they have a daughter, Hannah. Gunter is Christian, Josine is Jewish. Her illness strains their relationship as she leaves him and returns and leaves again. Gunter struggles to protect his relationship with Hannah. His personal turmoil is matched by what is happening in Germany under the rise of Hitler. He sees collogues dismissed, his profession taken over by the state. He can’t watch in silence.
The dehumanizing tenents of Nazism affects everyone, its victims and its perpetrators. Gunter is ordered to treat a young soldier who has embraced Nazism, who carried out his orders; it has left him unhinged. The soldier realizes that he murdered the man he had believed he had been, just victims survived only by “becoming someone you couldn’t recognize as yourself.”
The novel is harrowing to read. We see a country and its people transformed, accepting the impossible, while those who resist are imprisoned in camps. Innocents are murdered by those who are desperate to justify their beliefs.
Early in the novel, Gunter and Freud discuss what is beautiful in life. Freud said that Rilke contended that only the eternal is beautiful, but Freud believed the eternal was the ‘antihuman.’ Hannah tells Gunter that “the only beautiful thing is the human struggle to oppose all that heartlessness, all that mechanical, brainless stuff. And to create goodness, good people. And beauty itself.”
We all wish to ‘be ourselves,’ the ideal of who we think we are. But the world and it’s machinations distort and pressure us into someone else. Beauty is in the struggle.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book.
Review of advance copy received from Indie Reviewers
Stephen O'Connor's brilliant new novel "We Want So Much to Be Ourselves" is both perfect for our times and timeless. The language, characters and storytelling are riveting. The main character, Gunter Zeitz, is studying to become a psychoanalyst in Vienna in the 1920s. The details of O'Connor's descriptions of Vienna and Berlin in the 1920s through 40s bring the cities to life. You can see, feel and hear them. You can inhale the ideas expressed by the analysts and the hovering, coming acrid evil odors of the Nazis.
We follow Gunter's trials, victories and troubles as he negotiates his career and social difficulties. Most directly, his love-hate relationship with the charismatic but often irrational Josine. I was especially taken by O'Connor's portrayal of Freud, which is humorous and penetrating. He gives us a Freud who is a real person not some mythological god.
Most compelling of all, is O'Connor's exploration of his characters' choices and behaviors in Germany during the rise of Hitler and Nazism. The novel implicitly asks "How would you behave in such troubling, ominous times?" Sadly, it is not a question that exists far in the future. It exists right now. It is the question that haunts throughout the novel.
We follow Gunter's trials, victories and troubles as he negotiates his career and social difficulties. Most directly, his love-hate relationship with the charismatic but often irrational Josine. I was especially taken by O'Connor's portrayal of Freud, which is humorous and penetrating. He gives us a Freud who is a real person not some mythological god.
Most compelling of all, is O'Connor's exploration of his characters' choices and behaviors in Germany during the rise of Hitler and Nazism. The novel implicitly asks "How would you behave in such troubling, ominous times?" Sadly, it is not a question that exists far in the future. It exists right now. It is the question that haunts throughout the novel.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
This is not only a masterfully told story (O'Connor is a wizard of narrative drive!) full of powerful characters I won't forget, but also an important novel, relevant and brave. It felt like relief, or maybe there isn't a word for it - this feeling of having a story told that I could not express and needed so badly for it to be told. Readers who have connections through family to the history of the time period that witnessed the rise to power of the Nazis in Germany will find this story riveting in a personal way, but even without personal connections, the story is emotionally compelling, poignantly real given the unfortunate echos in the issues of today's world, and a page turner. I may sound like I am going over the top about this, but I promise you, I'm not. Put it on every "must read" list.
June 22, 2026
The parts in which the books delves into philosophical ideas and into the root of Freudian psychology is excellent. The more plot-based ones are harder to connect to because the characters are very unlikeable and the main relationship that drives the plot becomes an obsessive, manipulative romance that’s hard to read and understand. Overall, a good novel that might have used some deeper editing and focus
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
A very moving read.
June 26, 2026
3.5 stars, rounded up
July 7, 2026
A slow start, but it just gets more and more emotion-filled
July 22, 2026
4.75⭐️
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
[5+]
What is “being ourselves,” other than rhetorical? In Stephen O’Connor’s new novel, it is strikingly specific, tying threads of psychoanalytic theory with the fallout trauma from the Holocaust. The main protagonist, Günter Zeitz, a student of Freud (Freud is a character, too!) subsequently appointed at the Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute, has learned that we are often a contradiction of the self we either proclaim to be or desire to be. He started at the Institute in 1925, the year he wed his Jewish girlfriend, Josine. There’s is a difficult love, a tremulous love. The atmosphere in Europe is charged, as Hitler’s rise corrupts civility and warns of a looming supremacy.
Günter’s life is pledged to the service of others, with analysis as a way of connecting humanity to its greatest strengths. As an Aryan married to a Jew, in Berlin, with now a young daughter, Hannah, he is concerned about the peril they may face if xenophobia becomes the norm. Later, as a martyr when the Nazis took power, Günter perceives himself in a wholly different way than those outside of Holocaust history may believe. What strengthens this narrative even more is that the parallels to today are all over the German fascist regime. Hitler was an absurdist buffoon, said Günter at the start of Hitler’s power, as many observe of the American regime today. But even clowns can be dangerous.
I have read many Holocaust novels, but this one stands out and above all the clamor and noise of stories that are packaged for the paying audience, it stunned me with formidable characters and muscular prose that locks you in almost at the start. It never felt canned by research; rather, it felt like I went back in time, and that the author was living through the war, and I was, too! The immediacy and frontal incursions were done with such shattering stride and propulsive energy that I sobbed at each expanding assault. Günter, Josine, Hannah, and others regularly slipped in my dreams and held me at night. When I picked up the book the next day, where I left off, it was as if I had never put it down.
This novel is, of course, about trauma, survival, surviver’s guilt, psychoanalytic theories---and the natural desire we have to be ourselves, instead of that easy contradiction that presents itself in us, the desire to be one thing, and then doing its opposite. I have never read a novel before that explores survival of the Holocaust the way O’Connor does. He not only takes unusual paths, but they are truer, more genuine, and singular. I was shattered several times as I read, not just by events. But, rather, by the humanity (or lack of it at times), that pervades history. And, the truth that the choices one person makes can impact a family for several generations.
Every passage is exceptional and sincere, eerily animal, reminding me that we are. Animals.
In one particular descriptive passage, the author chose to characterize the look of one of the main characters—a hero, a martyr— drinking glass after glass of alcohol, a way to mask suffering—and his eyes, under the influence—as eyes resembling the eyes of pigs, squirrels, rabbits. And I got it immediately! I’ve seen that look and yet have never been able to articulate it the way this author did. What a masterful writer!
This may look like a doorstopper, but it’s not dense beyond some intellectualism near the start, the psychoanalytic theories, but then it is propulsive, in the weightiest way possible. It’s got vigorous character and plot, everything three-dimensional. And it carries you all the way through. I could not even pick up another book for two days, the impact was stunning, it had me in pieces.
Thank you to Bellevue and especial gratitude to Molly Mikolowski—I see the author thanked Molly, too! A wonderful imprint, Bellevue consistently publishes profound, stunning, and absorbing works.
What is “being ourselves,” other than rhetorical? In Stephen O’Connor’s new novel, it is strikingly specific, tying threads of psychoanalytic theory with the fallout trauma from the Holocaust. The main protagonist, Günter Zeitz, a student of Freud (Freud is a character, too!) subsequently appointed at the Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute, has learned that we are often a contradiction of the self we either proclaim to be or desire to be. He started at the Institute in 1925, the year he wed his Jewish girlfriend, Josine. There’s is a difficult love, a tremulous love. The atmosphere in Europe is charged, as Hitler’s rise corrupts civility and warns of a looming supremacy.
Günter’s life is pledged to the service of others, with analysis as a way of connecting humanity to its greatest strengths. As an Aryan married to a Jew, in Berlin, with now a young daughter, Hannah, he is concerned about the peril they may face if xenophobia becomes the norm. Later, as a martyr when the Nazis took power, Günter perceives himself in a wholly different way than those outside of Holocaust history may believe. What strengthens this narrative even more is that the parallels to today are all over the German fascist regime. Hitler was an absurdist buffoon, said Günter at the start of Hitler’s power, as many observe of the American regime today. But even clowns can be dangerous.
I have read many Holocaust novels, but this one stands out and above all the clamor and noise of stories that are packaged for the paying audience, it stunned me with formidable characters and muscular prose that locks you in almost at the start. It never felt canned by research; rather, it felt like I went back in time, and that the author was living through the war, and I was, too! The immediacy and frontal incursions were done with such shattering stride and propulsive energy that I sobbed at each expanding assault. Günter, Josine, Hannah, and others regularly slipped in my dreams and held me at night. When I picked up the book the next day, where I left off, it was as if I had never put it down.
This novel is, of course, about trauma, survival, surviver’s guilt, psychoanalytic theories---and the natural desire we have to be ourselves, instead of that easy contradiction that presents itself in us, the desire to be one thing, and then doing its opposite. I have never read a novel before that explores survival of the Holocaust the way O’Connor does. He not only takes unusual paths, but they are truer, more genuine, and singular. I was shattered several times as I read, not just by events. But, rather, by the humanity (or lack of it at times), that pervades history. And, the truth that the choices one person makes can impact a family for several generations.
Every passage is exceptional and sincere, eerily animal, reminding me that we are. Animals.
In one particular descriptive passage, the author chose to characterize the look of one of the main characters—a hero, a martyr— drinking glass after glass of alcohol, a way to mask suffering—and his eyes, under the influence—as eyes resembling the eyes of pigs, squirrels, rabbits. And I got it immediately! I’ve seen that look and yet have never been able to articulate it the way this author did. What a masterful writer!
This may look like a doorstopper, but it’s not dense beyond some intellectualism near the start, the psychoanalytic theories, but then it is propulsive, in the weightiest way possible. It’s got vigorous character and plot, everything three-dimensional. And it carries you all the way through. I could not even pick up another book for two days, the impact was stunning, it had me in pieces.
Thank you to Bellevue and especial gratitude to Molly Mikolowski—I see the author thanked Molly, too! A wonderful imprint, Bellevue consistently publishes profound, stunning, and absorbing works.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
In the 1930s and 1940s, before the vast majority of us were born, six million innocent Jews, many just children, were rounded up and slaughtered by the Nazi party. Apparently some people think it wasn't enough. In today's times, hate crimes against Jews are now at the highest numbers that have been recorded since the genocide.
At times like these, we look to literature to find answers. What's interesting is that three of the best Holocaust literature books have been written by non-Jews. One is DM Thomas's White Hotel. The second is William Styron's Sophies Choice. Get ready for the third. It's written by Stephen O'Connor and it just came out this June.
The book begins in Vienna where we meet Gunter Zeitz, a Catholic psychoanalyst in training under the esteemed Sigmund Freud. The young ambitious man meets and falls in love with a patient of Dr. Freud, the Jewish daughter of a shipping magnate. When Gunter receives an offer to join the new Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute, Dr. Freud, who is already ill with cancer and knows that as a Jew, his influence will be diminished, urges him to take it. Gunter and Jolene leave for Berlin and have a daughter, Hannah.
Jolene is not what you would call emotionally stable and this plays out in various ways. Yet she holds the cards at a time when the child's fate is nearly always with the mother. Also (does this sound familiar), the barbarians are at the gate, putting down the science of psychiatry, calling it "soul medicine" and putting their own spin on it. Patients and practitioners alike are threatened.
In his preface, O'Connor quotes Evan Osnos: "What is the precise moment in the life of a country, when tyranny takes hold? It rarely happens in an instant: it arrives like twilight, and, at first, the eyes adjust." As our eyes adjust to the reality of what is happening to Gunter, Jolene and their friends and how, by extension, our own reality is changing here in the United States today, the vision that the author paints is too real. It doesn't take much for us to suddenly not be ourselves.
This book will certainly be one of my best of 2026. It's 500 pages and I read it straight through in two days. I am very grateful to Bellevue Literary Press, a small press that has consistently introduced me to some of my favorite books, year end, year out.
At times like these, we look to literature to find answers. What's interesting is that three of the best Holocaust literature books have been written by non-Jews. One is DM Thomas's White Hotel. The second is William Styron's Sophies Choice. Get ready for the third. It's written by Stephen O'Connor and it just came out this June.
The book begins in Vienna where we meet Gunter Zeitz, a Catholic psychoanalyst in training under the esteemed Sigmund Freud. The young ambitious man meets and falls in love with a patient of Dr. Freud, the Jewish daughter of a shipping magnate. When Gunter receives an offer to join the new Berlin Psychoanalytic Institute, Dr. Freud, who is already ill with cancer and knows that as a Jew, his influence will be diminished, urges him to take it. Gunter and Jolene leave for Berlin and have a daughter, Hannah.
Jolene is not what you would call emotionally stable and this plays out in various ways. Yet she holds the cards at a time when the child's fate is nearly always with the mother. Also (does this sound familiar), the barbarians are at the gate, putting down the science of psychiatry, calling it "soul medicine" and putting their own spin on it. Patients and practitioners alike are threatened.
In his preface, O'Connor quotes Evan Osnos: "What is the precise moment in the life of a country, when tyranny takes hold? It rarely happens in an instant: it arrives like twilight, and, at first, the eyes adjust." As our eyes adjust to the reality of what is happening to Gunter, Jolene and their friends and how, by extension, our own reality is changing here in the United States today, the vision that the author paints is too real. It doesn't take much for us to suddenly not be ourselves.
This book will certainly be one of my best of 2026. It's 500 pages and I read it straight through in two days. I am very grateful to Bellevue Literary Press, a small press that has consistently introduced me to some of my favorite books, year end, year out.
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