Berlin: no man’s land, frontier, a city adrift in the sands of Central Europe. Destroyed, divided and held captive during a century of chaos and upheaval, borderless Berlin has yet remained a city where drifters, dreamers and outsiders can find a place—and finally run free.
In City of Exiles, Stuart Braun evokes the restless spirits that have come and gone from Berlin across the last century, the itinerants who are the source of the Berliner Luft, the special free air that infuses this beguiling metropolis.
Really interesting, well written and researched! I've learned a lot and found it fascinating how there seems to be a continuity in people coming to the "Babylon by the Spree" searching/yearning for as well as (re-)creating and living the Berlin myth for over a century now!
Melisa, the author’s wife, is a friend of mine. But I will try to keep this as unbiased as possible!
It’s a history of Berlin told through people; not locals, though, but Wahlberliner. People who’ve chosen to drift in and stay a while, drawn in overwhelmingly by the city's creative reputation.
The personal snapshots scattered throughout the text work really well. Instead of steering off into a highly subjective experience that could put off those who had signed up for a purely historical read, it serves to fit pieces of the author’s own life into the city’s grander jigsaw alongside the others who have contributed to it. It's an impartial voice, remaining non-judgemental of any of the other crazy characters. In turn, the reader does not feel alienated.
Admittedly, at first I wasn’t sure about the "exile" analogy. I’ve been noticing for a while - and feeling very uneasy and frustrated by - how in Berlin there is one set of rules for refugees who come here literally fleeing for their lives, then a whole different set for privileged, voluntary migrants who come here to "find themseves" and are basically allowed to decide whether they can be bothered to integrate. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover almost an entire chapter ('The Other Side') about Berlin’s long and heterogeneous refugee history. Required reading in its own right, I’d say.
In the latter stages of reading the book, I felt that if we go by these testimonies… then, well, Berlin is almost a religion. Those who are missing a certain something in their lives may have heard tell of it and so make a pilgrimage. Either you find your personal and spiritual salvation in Berlin, or you don’t. If you do, you may have your doubts, later on, about whether it’s your truth. But you will either work on those and keep the faith or you will look elsewhere.
If you’re remotely interested in Berlin’s enigma, this is a very good and very accessible book to read! Four stars because I rarely, if ever, give non-fiction books five stars. Can’t really think of any ways this could have been massively improved. But I did sometimes wish that there was more explanation on how the various "exiles" were actually able to arrive and survive in Berlin back then. It would have been an interesting comparison to the present day, where people are fighting tooth and nail for rooms/flats. In my own experience, the wonderful Berlin life that people come here for doesn’t just materialise, it emerges with time and a lot of hassle. (This might have strayed from the point, though.)
Breezily written description of Berlin and its expat scene from the Weimar Republic to Iggy Pop. Fascinating to read how West Berliners breached the Wall with apparent ease during the Iron Curtain years. Tolerance and the embrace of weirdness are in the city's DNA.
Slightly overwhelmed with names of famous residents that resided in Berlin over the last decades, it’s a captivating recap of why Berlin is Berlin and who are those that made it such a special spot on the map. If you live here or consider moving - a good way to get in touch with the city’s captivating history and have a better feeling for it.
It appears that there is true love with places, as with people. Stuart Brown's brilliant tribute to the city he loves is not getting the praise that it deserves. A year after I read it, I'm moved by just thinking about the book. As someone who is in love with Berlin, too, I appreciated this so much. I've read up on Berlin's history, architecture, urban planning; I've read fiction based in Berlin. Nothing seems to capture that obscure magic that makes the air there different. As a graduate student in architectural history, I must have written about 100 pages' worth of papers on Berlin, but I couldn't rationally explain my passion.
Stuart Brown offers an interesting framework: he is not studying any particular historical period in Berlin, nor is this a book focused on buildings/streets/a family/historical objects/events/any other typical hook for writing nonfiction. The underlying idea is that Berlin has a culture of radical freedom that dates to the time of Voltaire (who apparently went there) and has for upwards of three centuries been the city's tradition. Historical happenstance made this place again and again a haven for the displaced; everyone was welcome, everyone was equal. Braun captures this with the successful trope from the title - Berlin has no citizens, only exiles who are free to call it their own.
In Berlin, radical personal freedom met a radical communal spirit to make this place the heaven on earth that, for many of us, it is. The book moves through the centuries, telling perhaps hundreds of personal stories. Each is an inspiration, and each will feel like meeting an awesome new Berlin friend. If you are away from the city you love, reading will cause you nostalgia that you'll feel as a sharp pain, but you won't be able to stop because of the pleasure of recognition: finally, a book that explains it as it is.
The underlying message is an uplifting one: there is a surprising endurance in Berlin, unshaken by the fall of empires, by Nazism, by destruction, division, and defeat. Braun draws intimate connections among the Berlin that was the "Atens on the Spree," the one of the early 20th century with its sexual revolution, the more recent club culture, and everything in between. For me, in the end, the joy of the book was twofold. First, it made me better understand my feelings about Berlin - anyone who's in love wants to know oneself and one's object of desire, and Braun fulfills that wish. And second, the book became, for me, a recipe for utopia. In a world of impending catastrophes, I hope we can have places like this that remain resilient by their radical openness. Berlin is a place where the drifters and the dispossessed of this world can still find a home, and not just tolerance but love. As a cabaret artist wrote after the Second World War - after he'd been placed in a concentration camp for being gay - "Berlin is still Berlin, and nothing could change that... And if someone asks us Berliners how one could live here, we tell him simply - Berlin is still Berlin." (From the song "Berlin bleibt doch Berlin" - cited in the book).