A co ja mam z tym wspólnego? Zbrodnia popełniona w marcu 1945 roku. Dzieje mojej rodziny

by Sacha Batthyany, Emilia Bielecka (Translator)

Pod koniec marca 1945 roku hrabina Margit Thyssen-Batthyany urządza w pałacu w Rechnitz w Austrii przyjęcie pożegnalne dla miejscowego kierownictwa NSDAP, SS i Gestapo. W jego trakcie niektórzy goście wychodzą z pałacu, by rozstrzelać żydowskich robotników, przetrzymywanych w pobliżu.
Ponad 60 lat później informacja o tamtej zbrodni dociera do kuzyna hrabiny, młodego dziennikarza z Zurychu, Sachy Batthyany’ego. – A co ty masz z tym wspólnego? – pyta go pisarz Maxim Biller. Batthyany, szukając odpowiedzi, zagłębia się w historię swego rodu: udaje się na dawne Węgry, przemierza syberyjskie gułagi, w Buenos Aires spotyka ocalałą więźniarkę Auschwitz. Odkrywa tajemnicę, która odmieni jego poglądy.
Czy minione pokolenia mają wpływ na nasze życie? Czy wszyscy jesteśmy wojennymi wnukami? A przecież uważaliśmy się za ludzi nowoczesnych i niezależnych.
Książka Sachy Batthyany’ego to niezwykła historia rodziny, panorama Europy Środkowej, a zarazem psychogram pewnego pokolenia.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, World War II, Holocaust, War, Memoir, Biography

256 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2016

Reviews

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Author, Sacha Batthyany, comes from a famous, old, aristocratic Hungarian family. Although he was raised in Switzerland, he was aware that his ancestors included a former prime minister, a bishop and several Counts. His ancestors were influential and, although they had lost their fortune after the war, to locals of the village where his grandmother grew up, they were viewed with immense respect in a society which was virtually still feudal. So, when a colleague dropped an article on his desk from a British newspaper with the headline, “The Hostess From Hell,” he was not prepared for the story which he read. The woman he had known as a child as the rather caustic, and intimidating, Aunt Margit (actually married to his grandfather’s brother) was allegedly involved in the mass killing of one hundred and eighty Jewish labourers.

Not previously interested in family history, Sacha had become a journalist and so his immediate response was to question. He tried to discover what had happened in March 1945, at the very end of the war. How did a party, including several high ranking Nazi guests, result in mass murder? As well as this thread of the memoir, this is also the search for the author’s identity and of his relationship with his relatives, including his father. During, and after, the war, his family were both perpetrators and victims; they suffered and they were responsible for suffering. As the book progresses, the author has therapy and continues on his quest to discover his past, that of his family and his part in it.

This is a very moving and emotional read. The author tells of trips taken with his father, to visit the place where his grandfather spent many years in a Russian gulag. He also tells the story of his grandmother and of a Jewish neighbour of hers, named Agnes. The two women had grown up in the same village; although while Maritta grew up with wealth and influence, Agnes lived with her parents and brother at the village shop. Agnes’s father would give Maritta and her sister a sweet to eat on their way home; he was kindly and generous. He was also Jewish. During this book we read some of the memoirs written down by Agnes and Maritta, whose pasts collide in a way which the author attempts to unravel and make sense of.

I think this was an extremely interesting memoir and would be ideal for book groups. Batthyany looks at identity and asks many difficult questions about his past. How many Germans and Russians, he muses, of similar ages as his grandfather, led similar lives. How many were guards, soldiers, informants? How many were members of totalitarian systems and then went on to have normal lives and careers and left their past behind them? He also confronts his own feelings about what he feels about his relatives and how their actions impacted on his own life. Lastly, he looks at how easy it is to ‘stand up’ for things these days – people sign online petitions, they tweet and share stories online and interact with people who feel much as they do. However, he wonders how brave he personally would have been, had he been asked to risk his life, or that of his family, in order to do what he felt was right. In other words, he asks hard questions, of himself and his readers. I am glad I read this book and thought the author was extremely truthful and honest in writing it.

[Kerri · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an interesting book that I wished had been a little more focused. I was fascinated by the crime that spurs his investigation. The author's Aunt, Countess Margit Batthyany, hosted a party in 1945, during which some of the guests left the party and shot 180 Jewish Labourers. However this isn't really the focus of the book -- yes, his aunt threw the party, but I was never certain to what extent she was involved in the crime, and while she doesn't seem like a good person, it was hard to know whether or not she had been involved in anything criminal. Did she even know about the shooting? Her family never asked her about it, and by the time the author was investigating, she was dead. This particular family secret is soon replaced by the backstory of his grandmother, Maritta, her aristocratic family who went through undeniable upheaval, that still paled dramatically in comparison to the Jewish woman, Agnes, who we also follow. The parts with the two different journals taking turns were my favourite of the book, and were the sections that I found most informative. I realised that I have not read much about the gulags of Siberia.

In the present day, I found I liked the parts where the author travelled with his father, where they tried to find answers, though sometimes I felt like he was dragging along a man who really wanted to leave things alone, and I wondered why he kept pushing it. At times it felt rather cruel. Quite a bit of time is spent on the author's psychoanalyst sessions. Occasionally I found they were worth the page time, but often I didn't care that much. Juxtaposed against the things he was investigating, I didn't quite grasp the issues he felt he had. What stopped it being too irritating is that he did seem to be aware of this, and he did make some good points, which perhaps the sessions helped him reach:
"Was that what distinguished my generation from his and Petrov's? The fact that we have never experienced an outside foreign power changing everything, when there was nothing an individual could do about it? We lacked that experience, the recognition that we were powerless, not the centre of the world, and the experience of having to see judgment passed on us from the outside. Instead, we were experts on our own ego, we could discuss our personal relationships for nights on end, talk about our sexual preferences and our gluten allergies. Did we look in at ourselves too much, while they only looked out?"

"These days we spend hours on Facebook and Twitter, supporting this or opposing that, sharing photos of bloodshed and clever analyses, linking to videos of shipwrecks with migrants drowning off Lampedusa, signing virtual petitions against female genital mutilation in South Sudan. But how would we act if these events moved from our computers to the streets outside? If the demands were made of us as human beings, not users of the media, if it were all physical instead of virtual? If it stank, hurt, was noisy, and we couldn't perceive the world through the restrained design of our Apple laptops. If there was war of the same kind as seventy years ago, wouldn't we all be fellow travellers?
Of course not, the young with their trainers and their jute bags would protest. We've all learnt from the past. That couldn't happen to us.
Couldn't it?"

The only part of the book that I really couldn't get behind was the supposed conversations between past figures. He would give fictional exchanges, and every time he wrote, "She might have said" or something to that effect, I would think, "But she also might NOT have". I didn't feel like they added anything really, and I preferred when time was spent trying to find out facts. Still, I did get a lot out of this book, and think it was worth reading.

[Lidia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lectura necesaria. Especialmente por las reflexiones volcadas en sus páginas: víctimas, verdugos, gente que mira hacia otro lado, perdedores, gente que sobrevivió a una época y que tuvo descendencia. Y, en esos casos, ¿qué ocurre cuando te das cuenta de que tu familia no era la clase de personas que esperabas?. Un relato sobre la condición humana y que consigue que te plantees ¿qué habrías hecho tú en su lugar?
Muy recomendada.

[Kinga · Rating 3 out of 5]

The English title of this book is a tad misleading – yes, there was a suspicion that a serious crime was committed by one of the (now long dead) members of the author’s family, but the original title “What Do I Have to Do With It” seems more adequate.

The author is presented with an article about his great aunt who supposedly organised a party during WWII where the main entertainment was shooting almost 200 Jews. Batthyany is rightly shocked and sets on a journey to find out whether the story is true, and if it is, what it has to do with him. This is the premise that sells us the book but the author is unable to find any evidence of this story ever happening and quickly abandons it and devotes his time to investigate another episode, significantly less sensational. He goes off on various tangents, including some very self-indulgent ones – like his conversations with his therapist or an encounter with a Hungarian prostitute which leads him to have a very blah epiphany that some people have more serious problems than his mini identity crisis. The whole thing ends up being a typical chaotic mess that is so popular with editors right now, for some reason. A little bit memoir, a little bit reportage, a whole lot of confusion.

The thing was not helped by a very bizarre narrator choice for this audiobook. A 30 year old Swiss journalist is narrated by someone who sounds like an 80 year old toff who does accents for any bit of dialogue done by any Eastern European but allows his British accent to shine in the main narration, even though Sacha Batthyany also has a foreign accent in English (I can attest to that as I heard him speak live in Warsaw a few years ago).

There were bits of this book that I enjoyed – especially the ones that dealt with the difficulty of discussing troublesome episodes of your family history with the members of said family and I also did enjoy listening to Batthhyany at that Warsaw event I mentioned earlier. However, all in all this book did not live up to my expectations, I’m sad to report.

[Kuszma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hja, akinek van története, el akarja felejteni. Akinek meg nincs, az meg akarja találni.

Azzal a névvel, hogy Batthyány, Magyarországon egy jól csengő történelmi hagyományba ágyazódnál bele. Svájcban viszont azt hiszik, hogy most jöttél Srí Lankáról. Akárhogy is, főhősünknek valami nem oké. Nem tud az alpesi bérceken gyökeret ereszteni, naná, ott kifejezetten sziklás a talaj. Újságírói rutinját bevetve elkezd hát nyomozni saját családja után, de szembesül azzal, hogy a család nem kíván partner lenni ebben. Hallgatásuk oka nem a közöny - épp ellenkezőleg, túlzottan is érintettek. Jobb nem bolygatni a múltat, vélik, de hát az újságíró úgy van huzalozva (már aki érdemes e névre), hogy főleg azt szereti bolygatni, amit jobb nem bolygatni. Tíz körmével kapar lyukat a hallgatás falára, és egyre inkább kitárul szülők és nagyszülők generációjának múltja, akik közt áldozatot és elkövetőt is találni - áldozatok és elkövetők pedig egymásra találnak abban, hogy egyik se szívesen emlékezik.

Előre megkövetem minden újságíró ismerősömet, de nekem az jutott eszembe erről a kötetről, hogy inkább publicisztikai, mint szépirodalmi produktum. Nem a szövegminőség okán - az alapvetően rendben van. Inkább azért, mert a személyes élményt (a kutatást, a traumák kibontását, a satöbbit) valahogy nem képes univerzálissá tenni. Tisztességes kötet, szó se róla, helyenként felpezseg benne a kíméletlen önelemzés, de történelmi munkaként, illetve önpszichoanalízisként sem jut el a tengerfenékig. Ott billeg annak a peremén, hogy az írói revelációt olvasói revelációvá változtassa, de nálam nem tudta elvégezni. Érdekes, tanulságos, lendületes és érzékeny, a "hűha"-élményhez viszont hiányzik valami, talán egy szemernyivel több technikai tudás.

[Olethros · Rating 3 out of 5]

-Todos los eventos, al final y de una u otra forma, son marcados por la naturaleza humana.-

Género. Ensayo (novelado, eso sí, pero además con herramientas de biografía, de periodismo de investigación y de otras narrativas, sin desechar la ficción).

Lo que nos cuenta. En el libro La matanza de Rechnitz (publicación original: Und was hat das mit mir zu tun? Ein Verbrechen im März 1945. Die Geschichte meiner Familie, 2016), el periodista Sacha Batthyany descubre, mientras trabaja en el Neue Zürcher Zeitung, que una de sus familiares, a la que siempre recuerda como la tía Margit, estuvo relacionada de alguna manera con la ejecución de casi dos centenares de judíos en 1945 durante la celebración de una fiesta en una de sus propiedades en Hungría. Sacha comienza a investigar el hecho y conocerá más cosas sobre el suceso, pero también sobre su familia y, además, sobre él mismo.

¿Quiere saber más sobre este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:

http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...

[Babette Ernst · Rating 5 out of 5]

Als Sacha Batthyany als Journalist in der Schweiz auf einen Artikel über seine Großtante Margit Batthyany-Thyssen aufmerksam gemacht wird, erhält er damit den Anstoß, sich mit der Vergangenheit seiner Familie zu beschäftigen und evtl. Auswirkungen auf sich selbst. Die Großtante, die das Vorbild der Gräfin im Buch „Dunkelblum“ ist, weckte mein Interesse an diesem Buch. Obwohl die Recherche zur Großtante nur wenig Raum einnimmt und keine neuen Erkenntnisse birgt, war das Buch für mich eine absolut positiv Überraschung. Das mag an meinen unzweifelbar vorhandenen Vorurteilen gelegen haben. Der in der Schweiz geborene Enkel einer Grafenfamilie würde sicher seine Familie und damit auch sich entschuldigen wollen und alles erlittene Unrecht eventuellem Fehlverhalten gegenüberstellen. Da lag ich aber gewaltig falsch. Der Grafentitel wurde lange aberkannt, aller Besitz enteignet, der Großvater war zehn Jahre in einem sowjetischen Straflager und büßte seine Gesundheit ein.

Sasha Batthyany spürte die Sprachlosigkeit in der Familie, fuhr zu den Stationen, die in der Vergangenheit eine Rolle spielten und versucht zu verstehen, welche Ereignisse diese Unfähigkeit zu sprechen hervorriefen. Sein Vater hatte Aufzeichnungen der Großmutter, die er vernichten sollte, aufgehoben und gibt sie dem Sohn, der außerdem noch eine ehemalige Freundin der Großmutter ausfindig macht, die ebenfalls Aufzeichnungen hinterlassen hat. Aus den Stationen, den Aufzeichnungen und den Erkenntnissen nimmt eine Familiengeschichte Kontur an, die ein Geflecht von Schuld und Leid offenbart, wie es in ähnlicher Weise überall in Europa anzutreffen war.
Mir gefiel, mit welcher Ehrlichkeit und Offenheit der Autor über die Verwobenheit von Taten bzw. unterlassenen Taten und erlebter Ungerechtigkeit der eigenen Familie reflektiert. Ich mochte auch die fiktiven Einschübe, die Gedankengänge, die z. B. ganz unterschiedliche Personen 1982 am Balaton zusammenbringen, mit denen die familiären Ereignisse in einen größeren Kontext mit allgemeinerer Gültigkeit gebracht werden. Es verwundert nicht, dass die Ereignisse der Vergangenheit nachwirken, aber sie sind keine Entschuldigungen für spätere Generationen. Die Beschäftigung mit der Vergangenheit und das Gedenken an Schuld und Leid bleiben von Bedeutung, umso mehr kann man die aktuelle Auflösung der Organisation „Memorial“, die im Buch ebenfalls erwähnt wird, bedauern.

Man darf keine bedeutenden Enthüllungen erwarten, vieles bleibt im Dunkeln und lässt sich nicht mehr herausfinden. Die Aufzeichnungen der Großmutter und deren Freundin sind ein großer Glücksfall, um die Vergangenheit, Schuld und Leid zu verstehen und zu begreifen, dass es ähnliche Lebensläufe hunderttausende Male gab und die mich dazu brachten, mich zu fragen, wie ich gehandelt hätte.

Es ist ein sehr persönliches Buch, mit einem trotzdem allgemeinen Inhalt, es führte bei mir unwillkürlich zu Gedanken darüber, welche Ereignisse aus meiner Familie ungenannt blieben, welche in mir nachwirken und was ich eventuell den Kindern weitergab. Und ich werde noch einige Zeit darüber nachsinnen.

Für mich also ein sehr gelungenes Buch, das ich empfehlen kann für alle, die sich für die Nachwirkung der Vergangenheit auf das eigene Leben interessieren.

[Sandra Deaconu · Rating 3 out of 5]

În 1945, chiar în apropierea sfârșitului războiului, oamenii de vază dintr-un orășel din Austria, inclusiv naziști și prieteni ai acestora, petrec. Unii dintre ei sunt deranjați de la petrecere pentru a se ocupa de o neplăcere: 180 de evrei. Toți vor fi obligați să sape o groapă comună și vor fi aruncați în ea după execuție. Cei responsabili se întorc apoi la petrecere și continuă să bea și să danseze.


Autorul află că o rudă de-ale lui a fost la acea petrecere și hotărăște să afle dacă și ea a fost de față atunci când cei 180 de evrei au fost executați. Nu m-am prins totuși cum ar fi putut să afle asta vreodată. 


Premiza este interesantă și chiar aș fi vrut să aflu mai multe, dar scriitura este haotică, superficială și obositoare. Autorul creează în mintea lui scenarii pentru a încerca să completeze piesele lipsă din istoria strămoșilor săi, își imaginează dialoguri între persoane inventate tot de el. Nu pot pricepe de ce a făcut asta. Printre aceste aiureli inserează discuții din cadrul ședințelor lui de psihanaliză, fragmente din jurnalul bunicii lui și mult prea multe gânduri personale despre cum nu știe să se descurce cu tot ce a aflat despre familia sa. 


Chiar și în timp ce scriu simt că mă irită felul în care autorul a scris cartea asta. Nu îmi pasă că arată de parcă nu ar fi fost văzută de vreun editor, ci mai degrabă a niște notițe aruncate într-o agendă-jurnal. Dar mă deranjează că tot ce ține de război pare a fi în plan secundar, în vreme ce totul se rotește în jurul autorului. Toate dramele lui interioare aproape eclipsează adevărata tragedie. Oare ar fi avut puterea bunicii lui? Ce să le spună copiilor? Ce îl determină să caute cu frenezie răspunsuri? Nu mă in-te-re-sea-ză! Bun începutul și tulburătoare scenele din lagăr, dar impresia generală pe care mi-a lăsat-o cartea este că autorul a vrut doar să câștige niște bani de pe urma trecutului.

,,Lipsa de atitudine, scumpo, e boala de care suferă lumea în ziua de azi.''

,,Ne-au îngrămădit în vagoane ca pe niște vite. Eram cu toții nespălați , purtam aceleași haine de la Budapesta. Ușile erau încuiate, iar ferestre nu existau. Am pornit la drum, copii, bătrâni, femei, toți înghesuiți strâns, unii într-alții. Unii plângeau, alții țipau, doi au murit. După câteva zile, când trenul s-a oprit, în sfârșit, ne-am simțit ușurați. Ajunseserăm în sfârșit la Auschwitz.''

,,Cum de nu vezi niciodată pe stradă oameni care se opresc și încep să strige? Sau care cad lați și uită, pur și simplu, de ei? De unde ne luăm toți puterea, cum facem să ne ținem sub control?''

[Mery_B · Rating 4 out of 5]

3'5 ★

Ellos no eran monstruos sanguinarios; mis parientes no torturaron, ni dispararon, ni causaron grandes sufrimientos. Se limitaron a mirar y a no hacer nada. Habían dejado de pensar y de existir como personas, aunque sabían todo lo ocurrido.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

"My relations had not tortured or shot anyone. They had simply watched and done nothing, they had stopped thinking, they had stopped existing as human beings although they knew what was going on. Is that, in Hannah Arendt's famous phrase, the banality of evil?"

This is a very honest memoir as Batthyany goes in search of a family history, a sense of self and, possibly, a form of redemption and community. A journalist in Switzerland, he's shocked when a newspaper uncovers his Hungarian aristocratic family's links to a Nazi atrocity - but once he starts researching the events involving his great-aunt Margit, he uncovers another story, more complicated, of complicity, guilt and moral inertia.

With diaries, invented playlets, emails and a more straightforward prose memoir, this explores questions of family trauma and how the past may still haunt the present. The story set in 1944 also resonates strongly at times with our own present, especially when Batthyany visits a 1920s transit camps used for Jews, Communists and, most recently, for African refugees being deported from Europe to war-torn homelands.

A short book but one which is clear-eyed on the courage it takes to stand up against brutality and inhumanity in the real world.

Review from an ARC from Amazon Vine

[Booklunatic · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 Sterne

Ein eindringliches und vielseitiges Buch, das sich mit sehr interessanten Fragen beschäftigt, die den Autor persönlich umtreiben, aber auch dem Leser viel Stoff zum Nachdenken geben.

[I. Mónica del P Pinzon Verano · Rating 3 out of 5]

La segunda guerra mundial me deslumbró y ya con varios títulos leídos debo decir que me apasiona. Como lectora y persona, he pasado por varias etapas, la del asombro, la de no me cabe en la cabeza, la del sensacionalismo, la del de tomar tierra y querer entender, la del buscar diferentes escenarios e irlos encajando como un rompecabezas. Ahora estoy en las dos últimas etapas, y la verdad es que me encuentro con tres tipos de libros; los referentes, los imprescindibles y los del montón. Cada año sale “otro” libro de la segunda guerra mundial. Y este libro de Sacha Batthyany aunque quiera yo titubear, la historia y el mensaje se diluyen en aguas quietas.

La historia emerge el día en que a S. Battyany, periodista y descendiente de la aristocracia húngara, recibe de una compañera un ejemplar de un periódico en el cual su tía Margit y su marido (hermano de su abuelo) estarían relacionados con el exterminio de poco menos de 200 judíos la noche del 24 al 25 de marzo de 1945, durante una fiesta. A partir de este momento, el autor por medio de una labor de investigación entra en el pasado de su familia y varias veces se plantea ¿Y qué es lo que tiene que ver esto conmigo? De esta manera, el autor utiliza como vertientes del presente (¿y del futuro?) la historia familiar y su propia perspectiva. A través de la historia familiar Sacha Batthyany reproduce el pasado enterrado de Europa, no solo el de los muertos y el dolor, sino el pasado bastardo, en el cual la sociedad civil participó por acción o por omisión y de lo que hoy nadie quiere hablar. Entre tanto, por medio de sí mismo el autor muestra como las cicatrices de la guerra llegan hasta los descendientes de los que la vivieron, sean hijos de las victimas o de los agresores, y en este mismo punto, el autor propone algunas reflexiones al lector, como ¿qué tanto hemos cambiado con respecto a esa generación y cómo enfrentaríamos la misma historia repetida? O si llega más allá del activismo de sofá nuestra moral. En ese sentido, la pregunta ¿Y qué es lo que tiene que ver esto conmigo? Ya no le pertenece solo al autor sino también al lector.

Si bien el libro es consecuencia de una noticia en un periódico, de una labor de investigación y de memoria, y que tiene como novedad la presencia de varios géneros como la novela, la biografía, el ensayo, la crónica y la ficción (en la cual el lector no caerá inocente) y que tiene un argumento fuerte, el libro no funciona; el mensaje no llega, la historia se diluye. Me animé a leer este libro por la sinopsis y porque el único referente que tenía de la segunda guerra mundial en Hungria era el de Olga Lengyel, pero la narración anquilosada, los tumbos del autor como dando palazos a una piñata con los ojos vendados, hace que el libro sea insustancial y corra el riesgo de ser olvidado, aún cuando se deja leer.

[Marcus Hobson · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed A Crime in the Family, but I can only give it three stars because for me the narrative didn't really flow.

In essence we are jumping backwards and forwards across generations to understand a crime that happened in Hungary at the every end of the Second World War. As the Russian Red Army advances through Hungary, a party is held at an ancient castle which belonged to the author's ancestors. The Jews from the local village are rounded up on the night of the party and shot by members of the German army. The mass grave and all evidence of the crime remain hidden for many generations until the author begins to ask questions about his past.
The book is a fascinating insight into the post war period when Hungary was engulfed under the tyranny of Communism. In the same way that the Germans stripped wealth, possessions and life from the Jews, after the War the State did the same to the landowners and aristocracy. Some emerged alive.

Sacha Batthyany's book considers all these dark times and tries in various ways to recreate and make sense of what happened in the Spring of 1945. He looks into his great-aunt's diary, and talks to his own father as he tries to see where the blame may lie. The diaries are confused, often telling the same story over and over in slightly different ways until a satisfactory version is arrived at. There is guilt about the killing of the Mandls, a husband and wife who ran the village shop and were obviously well known to the Count and Countess. Records stated that they committed suicide, but the diary tells another story, that they were shot by a German officer.

Batthyany traces the Mandl's descendants to Buenos Aires and visits them to talk about events in the past, correcting some of what they know and changing forever their understanding of their own history. I enjoyed what I learnt about Budapest and Hungary, but I think perhaps the real meat of the story was a little too thin. There are invented diaries from some of the war time characters and their different tales of survival, even surviving the concentration camps, and then there are trips with the author's father as they visit relics of the wartime camps, but on the whole the story feels a little too self obsessed. I know it is a journey of self-discovery but I'm not sure that we need to go on so many visits to the psycho analyst or delve too deeply into a random meeting with a prostitute on a train journey. All these things got in the way of full understanding the story.

[Reggie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Importante por su tesis de no dejar que el silencio en la familia sepulte un pasado espeluznante, pero un poco torpe, sobre todo en la segunda mitad. He podido percibir la desorientación del autor cuando de pronto empieza a meter «paja» (la historia de la prostituta, la fabulación en torno a los dos personajes que se encuentran a orillas del lago Balatón).
Lo mejor son los testimonios de primera mano de Maritta y Agnes.

[Catka · Rating 5 out of 5]

No konečne dobrá kniha! haleluja. Dobre napísaná, svižne prečítaná, silná téma, dobre spracovaná, akurát tej sebaanalýzy tam mohlo byť menej, ale asi to patrí k tomu nakoniec.

[Lesincele · Rating 4 out of 5]

El inicio me costó un poco porque me esperaba otro tipo de historia. Pero es un libro tan diferente y tan lleno de reflexiones que me ha hecho pensar mucho y sé que lo hará en un futuro.
¿Puede el pasado condicionar a una persona qie no lo ha vivido? ¿Pueden sentir culpabilidad los descendientes de aquellos que vivieron y sufrieron durante la segunda guerra mundial?

[Lily S. · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 brightly shining stars!

Many years ago a nazi soldier killed a Jewish couple in the yard of a Hungarian aristocratic family. In the present Sacha Batthyány explores how his life is interconnected with the happenings of that afternoon using the diary of his grandmother.

This book could have been a cold compilation of facts and it still would have been relevant and interesting. Instead Sacha's stream of consciousness style guides us into the deeper workings of the psyche and connects the past with the present with a great attention to detail. It's rare that someone dares to expose his vulnerable side to this extent in a book and I can't help but admire the strength and self reflection it requires. As I was reading his words it increasingly felt like I'm talking with a very close friend, and interestingly I thought multiple times that I'd like to have him as a friend.

This is truly one of a kind.

[Liviu · Rating 4 out of 5]

the author, a second generation swiss Hungarian whose grandparents and teenage father fled Hungary after 1956 and whose great grandfather was one of the leading Hungarian aristocrats until the communist takeover, starts investigating a newspaper report about his German great aunt (sister in law of his grandfather from the billionaire thyssen steel family) being involved in the massacre of 180 Jews in march 1945 in Austria on her estate
his investigation will lead him to find out a lot about his family including the crime of the title that took place on his ancestral estate in Hungary 1944 after the German occupation, visit lots of countries including the Siberian gulag where his grandfather spent 10 years etc
very interesting book but for the self pitying musings of the author who are extremely annoying and stopped me from highly recommending this one

[Gwen - Chew & Digest Books - · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was interesting because it was part family history and part navel-gazing. The author goes to therapy questioning if trauma and evil are passed down via genes and to find out why he feels little or no connection to his country of birth.

It starts with a coworker tossing a newspaper article onto his desk about his great aunt and her guests supposedly taking a break from a party to slaughter 180 Jews in WWII Hungary only to go back to the drinks and dancing. Now that would be shocking to anyone and who wouldn't want to start investigating it's verity although it's hard for Betthyanay because the only one left in his family is his father who is less than communicative about the past, as many who lived through that time are. His grandfather had spent 10 of his formative years in the gulag of the Soviet Union, so it isn't like his father knew much about that side of his family anyway.

However, his father did not honor his own mother's wishes to destroy her journals and never having read them, passes them onto his son as if the past means nothing to him, so "here you go."
(Note: why did his dad, who didn't seem to care, not destroy the journals as asked if he didn't care and never looked at them? This question, never answered, intrigued me. I would have loved an enlightening conversation with his dad about that though I'm not sure that he even really knew.)

To Be continued, my PC is being a wanker.

[Ionia · Rating 3 out of 5]

In the way of memoirs, this one is an emotional roller coaster. There were things about this book that I liked and I felt like I learned something from reading it, but there were also times when I felt confused, particularly when delving into the writings left behind by the author's family members. I felt there was just too much going on from too many different sources for me to keep up. I suppose when it is your family and you can keep track of who is who it is easier to understand, but for the standard reader, it might be a bit much.

Still, this is definitely and interesting look at what one generation did and how it has affected future generations. This is a bleak book in some ways, but in the end perhaps there is some redemption. Either way, it was compelling and made me ask questions and that was a good thing.

Recommended to those who enjoy history and want to know more about the Nazi era.

This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher, provided through Netgalley. All opinions are my own.

[Jovi Ene · Rating 2 out of 5]

În părțile ce țineau odată de Austro-Ungaria, cu câteva săptămâni înainte de încheierea celui de-al doilea război mondial, 180 de evrei sunt uciși mișelește de câțiva aristocrați, aflați la un bal. Alți evrei au fost deportați, iar nobilii și urmașii lor s-au răspândit prin lume, după naționalizare.
La 70 de ani de la aceste fapte, Sacha Batthyany, nepotul celor care dețineau domeniul din Ungaria, caută amănunte, informații și supraviețuitori. Vine în Ungaria, merge în Germania, Rusia sau Argentina, descoperă jurnalul bunicii, dar și al unei supraviețuitoare.
O carte destul de haotică, dezlânată, concentrată mai mult pe propria descoperire (autorul merge periodic la terapeut). Dar până la urmă, cât din noi este construit din propriile fapte și cât din reflecții ale trecutului?

[Anka · Rating 5 out of 5]

Batthyany stellt die richtigen Fragen, auch wenn er oft die Antwort schuldig bleibt. Aber wie auch soll er sie beantworten können, wenn er sie über 5 Jahre lang ständig mit sich herumgetragen hat?
Ein wunderbares Buch für Leute, die sich für die Kriegsvergangenheit ihrer Großeltern interessieren, sich aber entweder nicht trauen danach zu fragen, oder aber schlichtweg nie die Gelegenheit dazu hatten.

Außerdem habe ich viel neues, vor allem über Ungarn, erfahren und fand den Schreibtstil einfach großartig. Meine vollste Empfehlung!

[Iwik Pásková · Rating 5 out of 5]

Co o tomto díle říci? Spousta emocí schovaná ve čtivém poutavém příběhu, jenž vás donutí zamyslet se. Při čtení vám bude občas běhat mráz po zádech, zažila jsem spoustu smutku, ale přesně taková byla ta doba, o níž kniha je - plná strachu a smutku. Vřele doporučuji, protože stojí za to :)

[Mientras Leo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Me ha gustado, tiene un comienzo lento pero unas reflexiones de fondo mejor que buenas.
http://entremontonesdelibros.blogspot...

[Marcin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jeśli wkładam tę książkę między czytelnicze rozczarowania, to tylko i wyłącznie z winy czytającego. Przed lekturą sięgnąłem po artykuł w FAZ, od którego wszystko się zaczęło i obejrzałem chyba wszystkie dostępne w sieci wywiady z autorem. Jeśli napisałeś książkę z Geschichte meine Familie w tytule, to siłą rzeczy wywiady koncentrują się wokół wydarzeń, na których osnuty jest korpus książkowej opowieści. I niestety te spoilery spowodowały, że skończona lektura nie zbudowała u mnie efektu zaskoczenia. Osoba autora i jego pisarskie umiejętności są najsłabszym elementem tej opowieści. Żywię przekonanie, że w rękach bardziej doświadczonej literacko (a nie dziennikarsko) osoby ten tekst mógłby nabrać dużo większego kolorytu.

Oś wydarzeń wokół non – fiction szwajcarskiego dziennikarza (reportażem w moim skromnym odczuciu nazwać tego nie można) zbudowana została na szalenie modnym konstrukcie „dziedziczenia traum”, tyle że moim zdaniem sam tekst nie uprawamacnia takiej tezy. Dopiero bowiem rzucenie przez redakcyjną koleżankę wydaniem FAZ z artykułem o nazistowskiej przeszłości ciotki autora spowodowało u niego zainteresowanie przeszłością swojej rodziny. Zanim feralne wydanie gazety znalazło się na jego biurku, Sacha Batthyány nie zdradzał swym zachowaniem żadnych symptomów, aby i w jego wypadku epigenetyka miała coś do powiedzenia. Owszem, miał świadomość swego węgierskiego, arystokratycznego pochodzenia. Owszem, miał świadomość, że w kuchni mamy wśród przypraw niepodzielnie królowała papryka, ale funkcjonowanie jego i jego rodziców nie odbiegało diametralnie od reszty jego rówieśników. Jego spokój ducha zachwiał artykuł w FAZ, który – co się okazało post factum miał z prawdą niewiele punktów wspólnych. Być może mój wniosek jest krzywdzący dla autora, ale mam wrażenie, że cała narracja o odziedziczonych po przodkach traumach wojennych została nabudowana na zwyczajny kryzys wieku średniego, kiedy to Sacha zdał sobie sprawę, że jest już po czterdziestce, włosy przyprószyła siwizna, czworo dzieci stanowi całkiem pokaźny życiowy balast, a on jeszcze by w życiu chciał czegoś (cokolwiek by to było) spróbować. Historia z ciotką i demonami przeszłości stanowiła więc całkiem wygodną wymówkę, aby wybrać się w podróż i zjechać kawał świata – delegując w tym czasie niewygodne życiowo obowiązki na partnerkę – i wylądować na kozetce u terapeuty. Gdybym więc miał zwięźle podsumować tę pozycję, to rzekłbym, że Historia pełni tu jedynie rolę ekskursu w podróż w głąb samego siebie mężczyzny, który przez kilka lat stara się dowiedzieć i czegoś o sobie i czegoś o swoich bliskich, niekiedy będąc zmuszonym do skonfrontowania się z pytaniami, na które nie ma dobrych odpowiedzi, a wynik tej podróży przyobleka w prywatną opowieść, która stała się „przypowieścią”. Ze wszystkimi tego konsekwencjami.

[Hannah Edmonds · Rating 4 out of 5]

In 1945, Countess Margit Batthyány gave a party in her mansion on the Austrian-Hungarian border. The war was almost over and the party guests, including SS officers knew the war was lost. Late that night, the guests walked into the village, where 180 enslaved Jewish labourers were made to strip naked before the party guests shot them all. This horrific act was kept a secret for decades, until Sacha Batthyány, Margit's great-nephew began to ask questions about that night. This book is his memoir about his search for answers about that awful night.

Told from his perspective, and also peppered with diary entries from his Grandmother and a Jewish neighbour of the Batthyány's called Agnes who went to Auschwitz, this book is very poignant and asks some very heavy questions.

Sacha has always been stuck in the past; not just his past, but the past of his parents and his grandparents. He feels a strong connection to Hungary and the war despite being raised in Switzerland, and not being born until the 70s.

This is perhaps the most candid, honest memoir I've ever read, as well as the most uncomfortable. Sacha puts on no airs and graces and doesn't make himself out to be a wannabe hero who would've done things differently had he been alive during the second world war.

"Go on, I told myself, why don't you scream? I've known such thoughts since my youth. Why do you never see people in the street who suddenly stop and scream? Or collapse and can't go on? Where do we all get the strength to control ourselves?" This is an urge I've also felt on and off for years, but would never actually dare to do, and this is the first time I've ever seen anyone else express this same weird urge. This book is full of similar instances which really humanise Batthyány; I really empathised with him throughout the book, even when he did things that were morally questionable.

A couple of chapters were a little bit dull and didn't really need to be included, but I'm so glad I came across this book at work and decided to borrow it.

[Carolyn Scarcella · Rating 3 out of 5]

Today I decided to read a book called "A Crime in the Family", by Swiss journalist Sacha Batthyany, is a look at his family's history from 1940's to the present. This is probably a very honest memoir as Batthyany goes in search of a family history, a sense of self and, possibly, a form of redemption and community. A journalist in Switzerland, he's shocked when a newspaper uncovers his Hungarian aristocratic family's links to a Nazi atrocity - but once he starts researching the events involving his great-aunt Margit, For me, I find this book a bit confusing, boring and disturbing. I can say the story is not a narrative, it’s a mixture diary, and an interview with his father and the family whether they didn’t do justice back, then because to me, his great-aunt Margit or his family was an evil and monstrous person where they did not want to admit to their crimes as a result. You can decide if they are not not.

[Michael Bohli · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wie viel Verantwortung tragen wir für die Taten unserer Familie in der Vergangenheit? Wie stark beeinflusst die Lebensgeschichte unserer Vorfahren das heutige Geschehen? Und die schwierigste Frage: Hätten wir damals anders gehandelt? Sacha Batthyany stellt sich diesen komplexen Punkten, als er erfährt, dass seine Familie in ein Massaker im zweiten Weltkrieg verwickelt war – scheinbar als Täter.

In "Und was hat das mit mir zu tun?" wird diese Geschichte, zusammen mit persönlichen Reisen und Bewältigungen des Autors zu einem Sachbuch verwoben, das extrem menschlich und gefühlvoll ist. Anhand fast vergessener Tagebücher, aktuellen Reiseberichten, Therapiesitzungen und Recherchen wird die Aufarbeitung der Vergangenheit zu einem wichtigen Kommentar der Gegenwart und auch ein wichtiger Kommentar zu Rolle der Schweiz in solchen Momenten.

[Jill Meyer · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's now 70 plus years since the end of WW2 and the horrors of war have been exposed. We now have the grandchildren of Holocaust victims writing their memoirs of how their generation - the third - have been affected by atrocities of the past. But it's not just the children and grandchildren of survivors writing, there are also books by descendants of the perpetrators (or those who feel they might be the kin to the guilty.) "A Crime in the Family", by Swiss journalist Sacha Batthyany, is a look at his family's history from 1940's to the present. It's a fairly confusing book for those who read it, but it is worth reading, by anyone with an interest and a basic knowledge of the times and places.

Sacha Battyany - the son and grandson of Hungarian aristocracy who lost everything when the Communists took over in Hungary after the war - begins his book with the story of his great-aunt who was a Thyssen by birth and a Battyany by marriage. Near the end of the war - March, 1945 - she gave a party at her castle residence, where, seemingly as part of the entertainment, 180 Jews were shot and buried in the courtyard by the guests. Was that the crime Sacha refers to? Well, no, it was actually the murder - by gunshots - of two Jews who were gunned down in his grandmother's father's castle, sometime after the Germans had invaded Hungary in the summer of 1944. These murdered Jews, the Mandls, were the local shopkeepers in the neighborhood and their children had just been put on the train to a way station and then to Auschwitz. They had come to the count to plead with him to get their two children off the transport. He refused and German officers shot them. Their daughter was a friend to Sacha's grandmother. According to diaries found after the grandmother's death, she had traveled to the Kistarcsa way-station to see the Mandl's daughter before she was sent to Auschwitz. (Agnes Mandl survived Auschwitz and made a life and a family post-war in Argentina.)

Okay, so what is Sacha Batthyany's book really about? Sacha was raised in Switzerland but his divorced parents both had ties to Hungary and the family went back and forth fairly often. His father's own father - the husband of the young woman who may - or may not have tried to help the Mandls - was sentenced from 1945 to 1955 in the Soviet Gulag system and returned to Hungary a fairly broken man. Sacha takes his grandparents' stories, adds in the one about his great-aunt and her rather unique dinner-party "entertainment" - and tries to understand from whence and whom he came. The result is a bit of a mess - it probably reads better in the original German - even though it was translated to English by the phenomenal Anthea Bell.

Another book on the same subject, but less confusing, is "A Guest at the Shooter's Banquet", by Rita Gabis.

[Mary · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book confused me from the start. What should have been a heartwrenching historical horror story was told in a cold, detached way. It was very difficult to start the book...disjointed, introducing characters in a minimal way and describing too many places and times quicker than you could get them straight. Then It switched from being diaries of two women from Hungary, one Jewish and one Catholic--I had hoped it would get more interesting. The incident of the Jews being executed outside the Catholic' woman's house was near the beginning and was told in an oddly detached manner. No one ever knows if the woman herself was involved. The presence of diaries gave me hope that it would get interesting but those petered out and the book seemed to become rambling monologues of what the grandson (searching for the truth of his ancestry) imagining what people may have said or felt. The therapy parts were boring and a waste of this young man's time and money. Anyway, I was disappointed and wouldn't really recommend it to anyone. Perhaps it is the problem of translation. The subject matter of the execution of almost 200 jews outside a party and a trip to Auschwitz really should have elicited an emotional response. It did not. I confess that I gave up on the book at about the 80% mark. Thanks to NetGalley for advanced read in exchange for review.