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All for Nothing
In East Prussia, January 1945, the German forces are in retreat and the Red Army is approaching. The von Globig family’s manor house, the Georgenhof, is falling into disrepair. Auntie runs the estate as best she can since Eberhard von Globig, a special officer in the German army, went to war, leaving behind his beautiful but vague wife, Katharina, and her bookish twelve-year-old son, Peter. As the road fills with Germans fleeing the occupied territories, the Georgenhof begins to receive strange visitors—a Nazi violinist, a dissident painter, a Baltic baron, even a Jewish refugee. Yet in the main, life continues as banal, wondrous, and complicit as ever for the family, until their caution, their hedged bets, and their denial are answered by the wholly expected events they haven’t allowed themselves to imagine.
All for Nothing, published in 2006, was the last novel by Walter Kempowski, one of postwar Germany’s most acclaimed and popular writers.
All for Nothing, published in 2006, was the last novel by Walter Kempowski, one of postwar Germany’s most acclaimed and popular writers.
369 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 28, 2006
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5888 people want to read
About the author
Walter Kempowski
58 books99 followersWalter Kempowski was a German writer. He was known for his series of novels called German Chronicle ("Deutsche Chronik") and the monumental Echolot ("Sonar"), a collage of autobiographical reports, letters and other documents by contemporary witnesses of the Second World War.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 584 reviews
September 26, 2024
This 2006 novel is the first I’ve read by Walter Kempowski, though it was the last he wrote before his death in 2007. It’s a moving tale of the last days of East Prussia in 1945, told through the story of the fictional von Globig family and those they come into contact with. I read the book in English translation, and translator Anthea Bell seems to have made an excellent job of that.
At the opening of the novel the von Globigs – who are minor aristocrats – lead a fairly self-contained life in a crumbling mansion and its grounds. Katharina von Globig lives with her 12-year-old son Peter and a female relative generally referred to as “Auntie”. There is also Vladimir, a Polish farm worker, and two Ukrainian maids, Vera and Sonya. Katharina’s husband is serving with the army in Italy. The Red Army is at the German frontier, just 60 miles/100km away, but the war has “paused for breath” and life continues, albeit with shortages. The family’s isolation starts to be pierced by a series of unusual visitors, harbingers perhaps of the greater invasion to come.
The early chapters introduce the various characters, all of whom are flawed but believable, and all of whose lives are to be determined by forces beyond their control. The early chapters are good but set at a leisurely pace, but the novel becomes compelling once the Soviets start their offensive. The family join the great trek of refugees heading west, encountering en route some of the visitors who crossed their path a few weeks earlier.
The story is told in straightforward style and makes no concessions to the sympathies of the reader. Deaths occur and come out of the blue. One moment someone is alive and well, the next they are gone. Some of the characters have had unfulfilling lives, and when the end comes they are forgotten, their bodies left in ditches at the side of the road.
Towards the end of the novel one character enters an abandoned house, which it is clear belonged to a writer. He feels that the writer should have stayed rather than fled because “When humanity suffers, it should be recorded in literature.” That of course, is exactly what Kempowski achieved.
At the opening of the novel the von Globigs – who are minor aristocrats – lead a fairly self-contained life in a crumbling mansion and its grounds. Katharina von Globig lives with her 12-year-old son Peter and a female relative generally referred to as “Auntie”. There is also Vladimir, a Polish farm worker, and two Ukrainian maids, Vera and Sonya. Katharina’s husband is serving with the army in Italy. The Red Army is at the German frontier, just 60 miles/100km away, but the war has “paused for breath” and life continues, albeit with shortages. The family’s isolation starts to be pierced by a series of unusual visitors, harbingers perhaps of the greater invasion to come.
The early chapters introduce the various characters, all of whom are flawed but believable, and all of whose lives are to be determined by forces beyond their control. The early chapters are good but set at a leisurely pace, but the novel becomes compelling once the Soviets start their offensive. The family join the great trek of refugees heading west, encountering en route some of the visitors who crossed their path a few weeks earlier.
The story is told in straightforward style and makes no concessions to the sympathies of the reader. Deaths occur and come out of the blue. One moment someone is alive and well, the next they are gone. Some of the characters have had unfulfilling lives, and when the end comes they are forgotten, their bodies left in ditches at the side of the road.
Towards the end of the novel one character enters an abandoned house, which it is clear belonged to a writer. He feels that the writer should have stayed rather than fled because “When humanity suffers, it should be recorded in literature.” That of course, is exactly what Kempowski achieved.
September 13, 2021
All for Nothing
Inside your pretending
Crimes have been swept aside
Somewhere where they can forget
Divine upper reaches
Still holding on
This ocean will not be grasped
All for nothing
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Refuse to surrender
Strung out until ripped apart
Who dares, who dares to condemn
All for nothing
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
(Songwriters: Francis Utley / Beth Gibbons / Geoffrey Paul Barrow)
(*** 1/2)
Inside your pretending
Crimes have been swept aside
Somewhere where they can forget
Divine upper reaches
Still holding on
This ocean will not be grasped
All for nothing
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Refuse to surrender
Strung out until ripped apart
Who dares, who dares to condemn
All for nothing
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
Did you really want
(Songwriters: Francis Utley / Beth Gibbons / Geoffrey Paul Barrow)
(*** 1/2)
March 4, 2021
January 1945 - The Georgenhof
In January 1945, as far as the von Globig family of the Georgenhof estate was concerned, it was inconceivable that Germany could lose the war and that enemy forces could ever be on German soil. However, by the end of April the enemies were in Berlin.
This novel focuses on these last days of the Reich, the moment when the proverbial penny dropped for the von Globigs, and their attempted flight from the Russians. During this period various German refugees shelter at the Georgenhof, including a violinist, a one-armed pianist and a baron who arrogantly insists on telling his hosts where items of their furniture should go and how to relandscape their park. Finally, with the Russians almost on the doorstep, the von Globigs and their servants also have to pack their belongings and leave (reluctantly). ”Maybe the curtains should be washed before they left, and the whole place thoroughly cleaned?”
By and large the characters are all awful but the characterisation is good and regardless of awful characters the novel is excellent. Some are smugly self-righteous, others lie and/or indulge in petty thievery or are simply mean in one way or another. It’s pretty much every person for himself/herself. Even those who are at first reasonably respectable show their true selves as their situation deteriorates, and an act of kindness (albeit unwillingly executed) ends in disaster.
As everything turns awry it becomes a case of ‘all for nothing’ for everyone. Everything they had, they had done, they had thought, they had loved was gone. All for nothing! All their endeavours turned to ruin, whether at an individual level or at national level. Even the violin becomes a mere echo.
In the latter part of the story the author frequently inserts the words ‘Heil Hitler’ into sentences: ”Auntie went to see the mayor of the town – Heil Hitler! – but his office was closed. She went from there to the police, Heil Hitler, but they were no use either.” When the reader is introduced to a new character, the epithet serves to announce that person’s political inclinations. And dark humour pops up here and there.
’All for Nothing’, is the perfect title for a novel in which all is lost and everything is for nothing.
In January 1945, as far as the von Globig family of the Georgenhof estate was concerned, it was inconceivable that Germany could lose the war and that enemy forces could ever be on German soil. However, by the end of April the enemies were in Berlin.
This novel focuses on these last days of the Reich, the moment when the proverbial penny dropped for the von Globigs, and their attempted flight from the Russians. During this period various German refugees shelter at the Georgenhof, including a violinist, a one-armed pianist and a baron who arrogantly insists on telling his hosts where items of their furniture should go and how to relandscape their park. Finally, with the Russians almost on the doorstep, the von Globigs and their servants also have to pack their belongings and leave (reluctantly). ”Maybe the curtains should be washed before they left, and the whole place thoroughly cleaned?”
By and large the characters are all awful but the characterisation is good and regardless of awful characters the novel is excellent. Some are smugly self-righteous, others lie and/or indulge in petty thievery or are simply mean in one way or another. It’s pretty much every person for himself/herself. Even those who are at first reasonably respectable show their true selves as their situation deteriorates, and an act of kindness (albeit unwillingly executed) ends in disaster.
As everything turns awry it becomes a case of ‘all for nothing’ for everyone. Everything they had, they had done, they had thought, they had loved was gone. All for nothing! All their endeavours turned to ruin, whether at an individual level or at national level. Even the violin becomes a mere echo.
In the latter part of the story the author frequently inserts the words ‘Heil Hitler’ into sentences: ”Auntie went to see the mayor of the town – Heil Hitler! – but his office was closed. She went from there to the police, Heil Hitler, but they were no use either.” When the reader is introduced to a new character, the epithet serves to announce that person’s political inclinations. And dark humour pops up here and there.
’All for Nothing’, is the perfect title for a novel in which all is lost and everything is for nothing.
January 12, 2020
Walter Kempowski's All for Nothing is a breathtaking book about life inside Nazi Germany (and more specifically in current day Poland which the Nazis had annexed in 1939). I found it even more moving than the far less poetic (if far more Hollywoodian) The Book Thief, more factual than The Tattooist of Auschwitz. I think it bears some comparison to the Danzig trilogy by Günter Grass which I adored (The Tin Drum, Cat and Mouse, Dog Years), and it takes place not far away. It is interesting to note that the Königberg whose destruction during the war is lamented several times was the capital of the now-extinct Prussian empire. Overrun by the Russians on the Eastern front, it was entirely demolished by Stalin and Kruschev and is now the modern Russian enclave of Kaliningrad - an odd Russian satellite between Poland and Lithuania.
The book itself starts in the country manner, the Georgenhof, of a small German family, the Globigs, of which the father, Eberhard, is off at war in Italy, the wife, Katherina is somewhat dreamy neglecting her 10-year-old son Peter and leaving operations to her sister-in-law, Auntie. There is a Polish worker there (Vladimir with a 'P' sewed onto his square cap) and a Ukrainian couple of refugees that were domestics for the manoir. The Russians are nearly at the gates of nearby Mitkau, the closest city, but life continues in a normalish kind of way. We are introduced to a few random visitors: a political scientist who adroitly steals a few valuable stamps before leaving, a one-armed pianist, a suspicious artist. One couple stays with them and there is a small party, after which Suddenly the ceiling light came on, and they rubbed their eyes. Where were they? What were they doing here? (p. 41). This manner of asking open questions is a leitmotif for Kempowsi which underscores the absurdity of this strange pre-apocalypse.
Much of the book focuses on Peter, who, thanks to his somewhat feeble constitution, does not join the Hitler youth and lives in his own little naive world ignoring much of the rest of the world, encountering it only through the distorting lens of his microscope: There was a whole world in there, Dr Wagner had said: birth and death, creatures eaten and being eaten. (p. 59). This is, of course, a metaphor for the war that transpires all around this small, momentarily peaceful enclave as bands of refugees pass in front of the house and with tanks rumbling down towards the front line.
Also present is the local Nazi stooge, Drygalski who can think of nothing better than ruining everyone's day for the betterment of the party: The children had laid out a long slide there, and [Peter] would have liked to have tried it. Then Drygalski had come along with a bucket full of ashes and made it impossible to use the slide, which annoyed Peter, although it was none of his business. (p. 60).
To accept the atrocities of the Nazis, many Germans would have to look the other way and dehumanize the victims of the regime. This is well-illustrated with a small vignette:Peter was sitting in his room watching the housing development through the telescope. House behind house arranged in straight lines. An old woman with a bag came round the corner. She slips and no one notices. Cars drive by on the road, women shake out their mattresses. She lies there and tries to get to her feet, like a horse that has fallen. Peter watched her lying by the roadside, he up here, she down there...how could he have gone to her side?
After a while, he was tired of watching. And when he looked again, the black heap of clothes that was the old woman had disappeared. (p. 102)
The strange and subversive painter gets interested in the paintings that hang in the house and cleans them: It was only from the eyes that he removed the dirt, and they shone out of the brown gravy colour, reminiscent of Rembrandt's palette, that surrounded them. (p. 113) This imagery in Kempowksi's writing is quite beautiful and full of symbolism, as when Katherina watches her sleeping Peter in his bed,The toy castle stood in the middle of the room, with knights behind its walls. The drawbridge was up. (p. 142). Some good that will do them...
I am still haunted by the closing of this novel, its sad crescendo towards the end and the cataclysms which are described without sentimentality and yet with an aching sadness. What a waste. All for nothing.
The book itself starts in the country manner, the Georgenhof, of a small German family, the Globigs, of which the father, Eberhard, is off at war in Italy, the wife, Katherina is somewhat dreamy neglecting her 10-year-old son Peter and leaving operations to her sister-in-law, Auntie. There is a Polish worker there (Vladimir with a 'P' sewed onto his square cap) and a Ukrainian couple of refugees that were domestics for the manoir. The Russians are nearly at the gates of nearby Mitkau, the closest city, but life continues in a normalish kind of way. We are introduced to a few random visitors: a political scientist who adroitly steals a few valuable stamps before leaving, a one-armed pianist, a suspicious artist. One couple stays with them and there is a small party, after which Suddenly the ceiling light came on, and they rubbed their eyes. Where were they? What were they doing here? (p. 41). This manner of asking open questions is a leitmotif for Kempowsi which underscores the absurdity of this strange pre-apocalypse.
Much of the book focuses on Peter, who, thanks to his somewhat feeble constitution, does not join the Hitler youth and lives in his own little naive world ignoring much of the rest of the world, encountering it only through the distorting lens of his microscope: There was a whole world in there, Dr Wagner had said: birth and death, creatures eaten and being eaten. (p. 59). This is, of course, a metaphor for the war that transpires all around this small, momentarily peaceful enclave as bands of refugees pass in front of the house and with tanks rumbling down towards the front line.
Also present is the local Nazi stooge, Drygalski who can think of nothing better than ruining everyone's day for the betterment of the party: The children had laid out a long slide there, and [Peter] would have liked to have tried it. Then Drygalski had come along with a bucket full of ashes and made it impossible to use the slide, which annoyed Peter, although it was none of his business. (p. 60).
To accept the atrocities of the Nazis, many Germans would have to look the other way and dehumanize the victims of the regime. This is well-illustrated with a small vignette:Peter was sitting in his room watching the housing development through the telescope. House behind house arranged in straight lines. An old woman with a bag came round the corner. She slips and no one notices. Cars drive by on the road, women shake out their mattresses. She lies there and tries to get to her feet, like a horse that has fallen. Peter watched her lying by the roadside, he up here, she down there...how could he have gone to her side?
After a while, he was tired of watching. And when he looked again, the black heap of clothes that was the old woman had disappeared. (p. 102)
The strange and subversive painter gets interested in the paintings that hang in the house and cleans them: It was only from the eyes that he removed the dirt, and they shone out of the brown gravy colour, reminiscent of Rembrandt's palette, that surrounded them. (p. 113) This imagery in Kempowksi's writing is quite beautiful and full of symbolism, as when Katherina watches her sleeping Peter in his bed,The toy castle stood in the middle of the room, with knights behind its walls. The drawbridge was up. (p. 142). Some good that will do them...
I am still haunted by the closing of this novel, its sad crescendo towards the end and the cataclysms which are described without sentimentality and yet with an aching sadness. What a waste. All for nothing.
January 8, 2016
A disappointing read !
I was drawn to this this Novel firstly by the beautiful cover and secondly by the book's description on the inside cover.
While away shopping at Christmas I spent quite a long time in a beautiful bookshop (which was a rare threat for me as I don't have a good book shop locally anymore) and decided to stock up on a few books. I found my self picking up books and then going to goodreads on my phone to see what rating they had got or what my friends had throught of them and after about 15 minutes of this I decided I would just judge the book by the cover and the blurb as I would have done years ago and see what happens.
"From one of Germany's greatest post-war writers, a powerfully atmospheric novel about the delusions and indecision of a welthy East Prussian family in the last days of the Thrid Reich"
I love novels set in or around this time period but unfortunatly this one fell flat for me and didn't live up to its's beautiful and athmospheric cover.
I did like the characters in the novel to start out with but never felt they reached their full potential within the story and I finished the book having felt no real emotion for any of them. I think the big let down for me was the lack of a sense of time or place which should have been very easy to protay in a novel like this. This book was first published in German and was translated into English and I cant help feel that perhaps the story may have got a little lost in translation.
A short read at 343 pages and a pretty hard back copy to add to my bookshelf but not one I will be recommending to my friends.
Heres hoping my other choices will fair out better :-)
I was drawn to this this Novel firstly by the beautiful cover and secondly by the book's description on the inside cover.
While away shopping at Christmas I spent quite a long time in a beautiful bookshop (which was a rare threat for me as I don't have a good book shop locally anymore) and decided to stock up on a few books. I found my self picking up books and then going to goodreads on my phone to see what rating they had got or what my friends had throught of them and after about 15 minutes of this I decided I would just judge the book by the cover and the blurb as I would have done years ago and see what happens.
"From one of Germany's greatest post-war writers, a powerfully atmospheric novel about the delusions and indecision of a welthy East Prussian family in the last days of the Thrid Reich"
I love novels set in or around this time period but unfortunatly this one fell flat for me and didn't live up to its's beautiful and athmospheric cover.
I did like the characters in the novel to start out with but never felt they reached their full potential within the story and I finished the book having felt no real emotion for any of them. I think the big let down for me was the lack of a sense of time or place which should have been very easy to protay in a novel like this. This book was first published in German and was translated into English and I cant help feel that perhaps the story may have got a little lost in translation.
A short read at 343 pages and a pretty hard back copy to add to my bookshelf but not one I will be recommending to my friends.
Heres hoping my other choices will fair out better :-)
September 18, 2018
Deep and complex even with its understated delivery. I imagine a lot of readers felt this style diminished the novels impact, however the story was actually more impactful because of this approach: it illustrated how war minimalizes an individuals significance. Kempowski spends 2/3rds of the book building his characters, and then in the final chapters they are swept away almost as an afterthought. And that is the point. 300,000 refugees died during this refugee trek in the winter of 1945, most of whom were quickly forgotten. Kempowski witnessed these horrors with his own eyes, and his novel is an impressive testament to those marginalized victims of warfare. Highly recommended.
April 25, 2020
Slow, steady, episodic, fantastic characterization, deep POV shorthand at times, summarized scenes shaded by a paragraph's primary character's psychology, never ostentatious but always attentive language, no storytelling tricks other than fluid perspective shifting among characters, no insight zingers or attempts to render emotional or historical heft as HEFTY, light-handed dispersal of a sense of life throughout supplied to all characters including the semi-pathetic local Nazi honcho and the Hitler-supportive yet generally favorably presented Auntie. Displays without commentary via consistent dramatization and description what life was like in Nazi Germany in East Prussia in January 1945 as the Russians are coming to avenge German atrocities in the east. Loved that the beautiful Katharina with the black hair and blue eyes and not really too many thoughts in her head resembles one of those women who haunt ruined mansions in Gothic novels -- and loved the ruined castle in the forest that the French had destroyed in WWI, foreshadowing the ruin of the smaller estate house they live in throughout most of the novel.
Increased the star allocation to the full five, rounding up from 4.5, although I knew it was wrong to even consider rounding down at first for how slow and episodic the opening two hundred pages seemed, pleasurably so, thanks to the expected steady flowing translation by the late great Anthea Bell (primary translator of Stefan Zwieg, including The World of Yesterday). I was only able to manage a chapter or two at night at most, sometimes not making it to the end of a chapter before sleep overwhelmed me, but the last hundred and fifty pages or so I didn't want to put it down.
The pervasive sense of apprehensive waiting and uncertainty about future events synced maybe a little too well with the current state of the world, especially the eastern United States where for example I receive e-mails forwarded from my mother updating the cases and deaths at my father's nursing home -- 0 deaths and 7 cases last week, 3 deaths and 17 cases this week, the sense that like the approaching Russian forces or the seeping Angel of Death in The Ten Commandments, the virus is coming and we make minor domestic choices that could have massive disproportional consequences thanks to random events like someone with the virus expectorating or sneezing on or near something we touch or the general space we walk through because we left the house to acquire something as inessential as peanut butter for daughter's preferred PBJ breakfasts or a gallon of milk or whatever seemed necessary at the time. On the day I finished this I talked to my father who seemed ill so it's possible the proverbial Russians have caught up with him -- and I'll always associate this book and its ending with the viral incursion these days and the potential resolution (nice way of putting it) for my father.
The novel takes off as the Russians come closer, bombs rumbling in the distance, like the eastern version of Enrich Maria Remarque novels A Time to Love and a Time to Die or Spark of Life: A Novel of Resistance that both use the approaching American forces/bombings as narrative drive to extraordinary effect. The end for so many of these characters comes suddenly, unexpectedly, as does one character's presumptive salvation at the very end.
A great novel that's slow and brooding, building, but then it takes off. Total heft, oomph, authority, subtly/wonderfully executed, if not necessarily audacious (which is really in part responsible for its subtle wonderful execution), and a major addition to the canon of novels about apprehensive waiting as overpowering forces mass on the horizon and then approach: Waiting for the Barbarians, The Tartar Steppe, The Opposing Shore, and A Balcony in the Forest.
Increased the star allocation to the full five, rounding up from 4.5, although I knew it was wrong to even consider rounding down at first for how slow and episodic the opening two hundred pages seemed, pleasurably so, thanks to the expected steady flowing translation by the late great Anthea Bell (primary translator of Stefan Zwieg, including The World of Yesterday). I was only able to manage a chapter or two at night at most, sometimes not making it to the end of a chapter before sleep overwhelmed me, but the last hundred and fifty pages or so I didn't want to put it down.
The pervasive sense of apprehensive waiting and uncertainty about future events synced maybe a little too well with the current state of the world, especially the eastern United States where for example I receive e-mails forwarded from my mother updating the cases and deaths at my father's nursing home -- 0 deaths and 7 cases last week, 3 deaths and 17 cases this week, the sense that like the approaching Russian forces or the seeping Angel of Death in The Ten Commandments, the virus is coming and we make minor domestic choices that could have massive disproportional consequences thanks to random events like someone with the virus expectorating or sneezing on or near something we touch or the general space we walk through because we left the house to acquire something as inessential as peanut butter for daughter's preferred PBJ breakfasts or a gallon of milk or whatever seemed necessary at the time. On the day I finished this I talked to my father who seemed ill so it's possible the proverbial Russians have caught up with him -- and I'll always associate this book and its ending with the viral incursion these days and the potential resolution (nice way of putting it) for my father.
The novel takes off as the Russians come closer, bombs rumbling in the distance, like the eastern version of Enrich Maria Remarque novels A Time to Love and a Time to Die or Spark of Life: A Novel of Resistance that both use the approaching American forces/bombings as narrative drive to extraordinary effect. The end for so many of these characters comes suddenly, unexpectedly, as does one character's presumptive salvation at the very end.
A great novel that's slow and brooding, building, but then it takes off. Total heft, oomph, authority, subtly/wonderfully executed, if not necessarily audacious (which is really in part responsible for its subtle wonderful execution), and a major addition to the canon of novels about apprehensive waiting as overpowering forces mass on the horizon and then approach: Waiting for the Barbarians, The Tartar Steppe, The Opposing Shore, and A Balcony in the Forest.
November 4, 2024
gece bitirdim. sinirlerim bozuldu. sonra sabah bi uyandım kayyımları duydum, daha da sinirlerim bozuldu.
walter kempowski’nin 1945 yılında savaş neredeyse bitmişken alman halkının durumunu aristokrat von globig’leri odak noktasına alarak anlatması, globig’lerin konağının imrenme ve hasetin merkezi olmasının dışında, kendi halinde ve epey de iyi insanların ev sahibi olması, herkese yardım etmeye çalışmaları, açları doyurmaları, kimsenin insan yerine koymadığı iki ukraynalıya ve bir polonyalı’ya iş vermeleri emin olun ki iyi-kötü ayrımına dair tüm ayarlarınızı bozacak.
walter kempowski roman boyunca bunu yapıyor. birisi için iyi mi düşündünüz, göreceksiniz sonra. birinden nefret mi ettiniz, çok yanıldınız, yapacağı bir iyilik her şeyi değiştirecek… yani aslında aynı hayat gibi. herkes gri ve belirsiz bir aralıkta savrulup duruyor. üstelik içlerinde bulundukları günler ölüm kalım günleri.
arka planda hitlerci naziler, hitler sevmeyen faşistler, hitler karşıtları, sosyalistler, kızıl orduyu sevmeyen doğu avrupalı katolikler var. merkezde ise alman arisi aristokrat bir aile. paralar bitmiş, evin reisi italya’da orduda.
karısı katherina ve evi yöneten hala romandaki tüm erkeklerden daha cesur, bambaşka karakterler ve romanda bu iki karakter öylesine nefis bir biçimde derinleşiyor ki küçücük satır aralarından yaşamlarının gizlerini seziyor, yazarın açık etmediklerini görüyoruz. bayıldım.
evin çocuğu peter ve kasabanın faşist dalkavuğu drygalski dışında tüm karakterler bir tiyatro oyununda sahneye çıkıp rolünü yapıp gidercesine beliriyor romanda.
yazarın uzak, soğuk anlatımını dilman muradoğlu mükemmel çevirmiş. anlatımdaki tekrarlar ve aralardaki şiirlerle birlikte müthiş bir edebiyat şöleni. ama aslında pek de bilmediğimiz, almanların son dakikada kaçış hikayeleriyle çok çok sinir bozucu. onu da ekleyeyim.
daha uzun yazacağım. yüz kitap bana hep ilham verir demiştim 🥰
walter kempowski’nin 1945 yılında savaş neredeyse bitmişken alman halkının durumunu aristokrat von globig’leri odak noktasına alarak anlatması, globig’lerin konağının imrenme ve hasetin merkezi olmasının dışında, kendi halinde ve epey de iyi insanların ev sahibi olması, herkese yardım etmeye çalışmaları, açları doyurmaları, kimsenin insan yerine koymadığı iki ukraynalıya ve bir polonyalı’ya iş vermeleri emin olun ki iyi-kötü ayrımına dair tüm ayarlarınızı bozacak.
walter kempowski roman boyunca bunu yapıyor. birisi için iyi mi düşündünüz, göreceksiniz sonra. birinden nefret mi ettiniz, çok yanıldınız, yapacağı bir iyilik her şeyi değiştirecek… yani aslında aynı hayat gibi. herkes gri ve belirsiz bir aralıkta savrulup duruyor. üstelik içlerinde bulundukları günler ölüm kalım günleri.
arka planda hitlerci naziler, hitler sevmeyen faşistler, hitler karşıtları, sosyalistler, kızıl orduyu sevmeyen doğu avrupalı katolikler var. merkezde ise alman arisi aristokrat bir aile. paralar bitmiş, evin reisi italya’da orduda.
karısı katherina ve evi yöneten hala romandaki tüm erkeklerden daha cesur, bambaşka karakterler ve romanda bu iki karakter öylesine nefis bir biçimde derinleşiyor ki küçücük satır aralarından yaşamlarının gizlerini seziyor, yazarın açık etmediklerini görüyoruz. bayıldım.
evin çocuğu peter ve kasabanın faşist dalkavuğu drygalski dışında tüm karakterler bir tiyatro oyununda sahneye çıkıp rolünü yapıp gidercesine beliriyor romanda.
yazarın uzak, soğuk anlatımını dilman muradoğlu mükemmel çevirmiş. anlatımdaki tekrarlar ve aralardaki şiirlerle birlikte müthiş bir edebiyat şöleni. ama aslında pek de bilmediğimiz, almanların son dakikada kaçış hikayeleriyle çok çok sinir bozucu. onu da ekleyeyim.
daha uzun yazacağım. yüz kitap bana hep ilham verir demiştim 🥰
January 21, 2021
In dem letzten Roman von Walter Kempowski geht es um das Leben der Bewohner eines Gutshofs in Ostpreußen im Winter 44/45 und der anschließenden Vertreibung durch die sich nähernden Russen. Protagonisten sind nicht nur die Mutter und Sohn des Hofs, sondern auch weitere Bewohner des Anwesens, wie das Tantchen und Fremdarbeiter aus Rumänien, Polen und der Ukrainer sowie Menschen, die in diesem Hof ein-und ausgehen. Was man halt so braucht für einen Roman, der im Dritten Reich spielt, also z.B. Pfarrer, Lehrer und Vorzeige-Nazi. Die ersten zwei Drittel geht es um die Einführung ins Leben der Menschen, im letzten Drittel beginnt so etwas wie Handlung, als die Vertreibung einsetzt.
Damit wäre alles notwendige zur Handlung erzählt. Die Geschichte ist an sich dramatisch und das gezeigte Schicksal gnadenlos. Was den Roman von anderen Werken dieser Art unterscheidet, ist die Sprache und der Erzählstil, denn das Buch ist nahezu vollständig in erlebter Rede geschrieben. Und das mag ich eigentlich nicht besonders, vor allem, wenn man in eine Szene hineingeworfen wird als Leser und sich dann erstmal zurechtfinden muss, wie dieser Gedankenstrom einzuordnen ist. Wenn dann der allwissende Erzähler die erlebte Rede auch noch im gleichen Stil bei allen Figuren, vom 12jährigen Sohn bis altem Tantchen anwendet, wo doch die Gedanken sich schon aufgrund des Alters anders anhören müssten, stört mich das. Zudem hat Kempowski einen lakonischen, unaufgeregten Erzählstil, der gerade am Ende des Buchs, wenn nahezu alle Personen, teils auf grausame Weise ihr Leben lassen, irgendwie deplatziert wirkt. Kempowski schreibt die Vertreibung für mich zu emotionslos. Er bleibt auf Distanz zu seinen Figuren, obwohl wir doch eigentlich tief in ihren Gedanken stecken. Es hat mich einfach nicht vollständig überzeugt.
Fazit im Schreibstil Kempowskis: Warum tat er sich mit Gedankenstrom-Büchern so schwer? Kurze Sätze. Oft keine Verben. Zusammenhanglos, zumindest auf den ersten Blick. Irgendwann las man sich dann doch ein. Hatte man Walter als Kind nicht gesagt, dass man in ganzen Sätzen. Ach du meine Güte. Wann das alle so machen würden.
Damit wäre alles notwendige zur Handlung erzählt. Die Geschichte ist an sich dramatisch und das gezeigte Schicksal gnadenlos. Was den Roman von anderen Werken dieser Art unterscheidet, ist die Sprache und der Erzählstil, denn das Buch ist nahezu vollständig in erlebter Rede geschrieben. Und das mag ich eigentlich nicht besonders, vor allem, wenn man in eine Szene hineingeworfen wird als Leser und sich dann erstmal zurechtfinden muss, wie dieser Gedankenstrom einzuordnen ist. Wenn dann der allwissende Erzähler die erlebte Rede auch noch im gleichen Stil bei allen Figuren, vom 12jährigen Sohn bis altem Tantchen anwendet, wo doch die Gedanken sich schon aufgrund des Alters anders anhören müssten, stört mich das. Zudem hat Kempowski einen lakonischen, unaufgeregten Erzählstil, der gerade am Ende des Buchs, wenn nahezu alle Personen, teils auf grausame Weise ihr Leben lassen, irgendwie deplatziert wirkt. Kempowski schreibt die Vertreibung für mich zu emotionslos. Er bleibt auf Distanz zu seinen Figuren, obwohl wir doch eigentlich tief in ihren Gedanken stecken. Es hat mich einfach nicht vollständig überzeugt.
Fazit im Schreibstil Kempowskis: Warum tat er sich mit Gedankenstrom-Büchern so schwer? Kurze Sätze. Oft keine Verben. Zusammenhanglos, zumindest auf den ersten Blick. Irgendwann las man sich dann doch ein. Hatte man Walter als Kind nicht gesagt, dass man in ganzen Sätzen. Ach du meine Güte. Wann das alle so machen würden.
August 25, 2019
Walter Kempowski is a German author best known for his historical novels and a ten volume series Das Echolot (The Sonar), for which he assembled letters, journals and memories of witnesses of World War 2. Of all the volumes only one has been translated from German - the last one, Swansong 1945: A Collective Diary of the Last Days of the Third Reich. I've read it with great interest and it has brought in me an interest in his other works, of which I picked this novel.
All for Nothing is his last novel, published in 2006 - a year before his death. It takes place in the winter of 1944-45 in a remote mansion somewhere in East Prussia, the most eastern flung region of what was then Germany. The war is long lost and the Russians are steadily advancing westward, however the aristocratic inhabitants of the estate don't really concern themselves with it - the father serves his country in faraway Italy, and his wife and son (the daughter died from scarlet fever) are left with an old aunt and a bunch of foreign servants (who seems to be pretty cheerful despite being most probably forced into their servitude). From time to time guests come into the estate, and each brings a piece of the news (and from time to time steals something in return). They never stay for very long, and with each day the dark clouds of the approaching front draw nearer and nearer.
My main problem with the book is that the author's obvious affinity for historical research and his lack of will to do something original with it. There is an idea behind presenting a family trying to live a relatively ordinary life and push all troubles away in spite of the certainly approaching doom, but this portrayal just wasn't captivating enough for me to make it worth reading the entire novel, which I finished out of obligation. We've seen such approach done before, and on a larger scale - think of Nevil Shute's 1957 novel On the Beach, in which northern hemisphere gets completely destroyed in nuclear war, and clouds with radioactive fallout slowly move towards Australia, where the last of humanity is unable to stop them. Shute's novel is an amazing work precisely because it shows its protagonists knowing that they cannot escape their end, and trying to live their last days in the best way they think possible. The epilogue of the book left a lasting impression on me, and although I have read it several years ago I still think of it to this day. Unfortunately, Kempowski's novel doesn't achieve the same impact - although events do pick up near the end of the book, most of us are relatively familiar with the horrors of war and what it brought to civilians on both sides, so it's nowhere near as impactful.
The title is ironic, though in an unintended way. While reading I couldn't help but think of how a new spin on the genre of retelling history via fiction could have made the book much different and perhaps better. The concept of nobles hiding in a mansion from chaos which eats the world outside and amusing themselves with balls or tales dates all the way back to the Decameron, or if you're more fantastically inclined The Masque of the Red Death. This structure leaves plenty of room for original content, which in the case of All or Nothing just isn't there - to put it simply there's not enough content behind its many beautiful passages.
I'd recommend Swansong 1945: A Collective Diary of the Last Days of the Third Reich if you're interested in genuine human reaction to the end of the war - unfortunately in this one there's more nothing than all.
All for Nothing is his last novel, published in 2006 - a year before his death. It takes place in the winter of 1944-45 in a remote mansion somewhere in East Prussia, the most eastern flung region of what was then Germany. The war is long lost and the Russians are steadily advancing westward, however the aristocratic inhabitants of the estate don't really concern themselves with it - the father serves his country in faraway Italy, and his wife and son (the daughter died from scarlet fever) are left with an old aunt and a bunch of foreign servants (who seems to be pretty cheerful despite being most probably forced into their servitude). From time to time guests come into the estate, and each brings a piece of the news (and from time to time steals something in return). They never stay for very long, and with each day the dark clouds of the approaching front draw nearer and nearer.
My main problem with the book is that the author's obvious affinity for historical research and his lack of will to do something original with it. There is an idea behind presenting a family trying to live a relatively ordinary life and push all troubles away in spite of the certainly approaching doom, but this portrayal just wasn't captivating enough for me to make it worth reading the entire novel, which I finished out of obligation. We've seen such approach done before, and on a larger scale - think of Nevil Shute's 1957 novel On the Beach, in which northern hemisphere gets completely destroyed in nuclear war, and clouds with radioactive fallout slowly move towards Australia, where the last of humanity is unable to stop them. Shute's novel is an amazing work precisely because it shows its protagonists knowing that they cannot escape their end, and trying to live their last days in the best way they think possible. The epilogue of the book left a lasting impression on me, and although I have read it several years ago I still think of it to this day. Unfortunately, Kempowski's novel doesn't achieve the same impact - although events do pick up near the end of the book, most of us are relatively familiar with the horrors of war and what it brought to civilians on both sides, so it's nowhere near as impactful.
The title is ironic, though in an unintended way. While reading I couldn't help but think of how a new spin on the genre of retelling history via fiction could have made the book much different and perhaps better. The concept of nobles hiding in a mansion from chaos which eats the world outside and amusing themselves with balls or tales dates all the way back to the Decameron, or if you're more fantastically inclined The Masque of the Red Death. This structure leaves plenty of room for original content, which in the case of All or Nothing just isn't there - to put it simply there's not enough content behind its many beautiful passages.
I'd recommend Swansong 1945: A Collective Diary of the Last Days of the Third Reich if you're interested in genuine human reaction to the end of the war - unfortunately in this one there's more nothing than all.
November 15, 2024
Her Şey Nafile savaşa dair okuduğum romanların en güzellerinden biri. Bunun da birçok sebebi var ama en büyük sebebi yazarın anlatım tarzını çok beğenmem. Zengin bir ailenin evi üzerinden savaşı anlatmak, eve uğrayıp bir görünüp bir kaybolan karakterler üzerinden dönemin genel resmini ortaya koymak kesinlikle çok iyi fikir. ��yle ki hemen her görüşte insanın sesini duyuyoruz ve tüm farklılıklarına rağmen dertlerinin nasıl da aynılaştığını anlıyoruz. Söz konusu can derdi olunca hiçbir fikrin, farklılığın o kadar da önemli olmadığını; savaş ortamında iyi-kötü ayrımının nasıl da birbirine karıştığını ve birey olmanın nasıl da imkansızlaştığını öyle güzel anlatıyor ki yazar etkilenmemek elde değil. Üstelik bunu yaparken de hiç acele etmiyor. Uzun uzun karakterlere alan bırakıyor okuyucunun zihninde. Kimisinin hikayesine ortak ederken kimisinin de sadece geçip gitmesine izin veriyor. Bununla birlikte alttan alta yükselen bir gerilim var. Bu konuda da hiç acele etmiyor yazar. Uzunca bir süre büyük bir şey olmuyor romanda ama tehlikenin yaklaştığını sayfa sayfa hissediyoruz. Son yüz sayfaya gelince hikaye merkezinde can derdinin olduğu başka bir yere doğru evriliyor. Savaşın gerçekten kaybeden tarafında olanların hikayesini okuyoruz bu defa da. Bir kaçış hikayesi zamanla ağır bir drama dönüşüyor. Hoş savaş başlı başına o kadar kötü ki ağır olmayan bir dram yok zaten ama bunu da ajite etmiyor asla metin. Her şeyin dengesi o kadar iyi ayarlanmış ki üstelik hiçbir şey fazla ya da eksik gelmiyor. Sonunda da ortaya amacına ulaşan, okuyucusuna savaşın başka bir yönünü gösteren dört dörtlük bir roman çıkıyor. Kesinlikle yılın en iyilerinden birisi.
June 23, 2025
Atmospheric, beautifully told historical fiction from 2006 that could have been a post-war novel by one of those excellent European writers that hardly anyone has heard of. With compassion and a deep understanding of the experience for ordinary Germans at the back end of WW2, Kempowski takes his characters; whether aristocratic, simple peasant, Nazi or Jew, and sees them in his eyes as fully human; whereas for the characters themselves, in the eyes of each other, there are the obvious barriers. The setting is East Prussia in the early months of 1945, focusing on the once rich Von Globigs, their run-down Georgenhof estate close to the Eastern Front, and the Various travellers who come and go, each bringing the latest news and rumours. After the quiet beginnings of the narrative, with the bitterness of a terrible winter outside, things slowly start to build; the tone deepens with a growing unease, where that of little value suddenly takes on a profound significance. The trickle of people turns into something more relentless, as refugees from the east gather pace, leading to a really intense last third, as the horrors of war and the rapid disintegration of a nation takes hold, carrying the reader through to a quite devastating finale. Overall, very impressive.
August 26, 2023
Najlepsza książka, jaką wydałem, jedna z najlepszych o drugiej wojnie, jebane arcydzieło
April 28, 2021
A remarkable novel centered in a family that seems oblivious of the war during the first months of 1945, living comfortably in Georgenhof, their vast estate in East Prussia, that becomes the meeting point of visitors, that come and go almost like in a theater play, while the snow falls heavily, and one by one the guests offer a glimpse of the outside world that the Von Globigs at first refuse and then take a long time to acknowledge, until it is too late. While living inside their bubble, life seems to be unaffected by the threatening Russian troops that each day get closer, as the war heads toward its Wagnerian tragic finale.
The author’s style is for the most part emotionally controlled, describing with the same narrative tone, the bodies hanging from the branch of a tree, the silent elegance of Katherina as she sits near the fire, lights a cigarette and closes her eyes, or the way Peter climbs the tree next to the house. There seems to be no distinction in the way the story is told: the pulse, however, changes slowly and naturally, and thus, at times we do not notice it. The ominous seems to build up slowly, as the tension mounts with each chapter until we arrive at the last three or four, and to our surprise, we realize that the dramatic culmination has been reached in a long and masterful crescendo, that began in the very first page of the book.
Some weeks ago I read The Tin Drum, and can not help compare both writers since they were contemporaries, and their novels narrate the end of the war from a German perspective. Günter Grass (1927-2015) is experimental and sinisterly exuberant in his narrative style, while Walter Kempowski (1929-2007) remains traditional and is elegantly restrained. Oskar’s black humor and twisted mind contrast with Peter’s controlled and educated manner. The two novels couldn’t be more different, and they prove that genius in writing can take sometimes opposite directions.
A poignant story narrated with eloquence and compassion, All for nothing stands as a literary testimonial of the fall of a nation.
The author’s style is for the most part emotionally controlled, describing with the same narrative tone, the bodies hanging from the branch of a tree, the silent elegance of Katherina as she sits near the fire, lights a cigarette and closes her eyes, or the way Peter climbs the tree next to the house. There seems to be no distinction in the way the story is told: the pulse, however, changes slowly and naturally, and thus, at times we do not notice it. The ominous seems to build up slowly, as the tension mounts with each chapter until we arrive at the last three or four, and to our surprise, we realize that the dramatic culmination has been reached in a long and masterful crescendo, that began in the very first page of the book.
Some weeks ago I read The Tin Drum, and can not help compare both writers since they were contemporaries, and their novels narrate the end of the war from a German perspective. Günter Grass (1927-2015) is experimental and sinisterly exuberant in his narrative style, while Walter Kempowski (1929-2007) remains traditional and is elegantly restrained. Oskar’s black humor and twisted mind contrast with Peter’s controlled and educated manner. The two novels couldn’t be more different, and they prove that genius in writing can take sometimes opposite directions.
A poignant story narrated with eloquence and compassion, All for nothing stands as a literary testimonial of the fall of a nation.
August 30, 2023
O ile "Na zachodzie bez zmian" to najlepsza powieść I-wojenna, tak chyba muszę uznać, że "Wszystko na darmo" to najlepsza powieść II-wojenna.
June 15, 2021
What a strange, albeit apparently linear novel. All for Nothing constitutes an all-too-human approach to the collapse of the Ost front in the bitter cold winter of 1945 and the subsequent devastation of the people living in East Prussia. Using an aristocratic family as the focus, this could be a postscript for Buddenbrooks, and what an unfortunate one it would be. Matters proceed gradually and then almost on an imperceptive level the accrued information from each character dissolves into a pantomime of panic, though the standing of their class disallows actual animal emotion. Manners and stiff lips aren't impenetrable defenses against starvation and shrapnel. The perspective of the son, Peter, proves especially effective as a witness to the end of the world.
All for Nothing becomes a tale of refugees and summary executions. It is both wistful and terrifying in the most sober manner. The novel manages to seduce and captivate, honestly hours creep by and the reader emerges, unsure. There's something to be said for that accomplishment.
All for Nothing becomes a tale of refugees and summary executions. It is both wistful and terrifying in the most sober manner. The novel manages to seduce and captivate, honestly hours creep by and the reader emerges, unsure. There's something to be said for that accomplishment.
April 11, 2021
I knew, of course, the premise of this book before i read it (January 1945, German civilians at the Eastern Front, now Lithuania and Kaliningrad Oblast). The ordinariness of the actions, my feeling of intense foreboding, the dark terror inherent and ignored in every simple, silly day - all life energetically undertaken in denial of the obvious. Told in such a brilliant way. A nearly flawless description of how i feel right now.
Accepting the potential terror of not belonging, not complying, without a second thought, these East Prussian Germans ignored the transparent truth, that the Russians - a bit pissed off - were on their way, imminently...because, as we all can attest, isn’t denial a better way to cope? Then the threat was the Nazis, now it is Capitalism. Privately owned vaccines, denying the majority of humanity access - guaranteeing that billions of variant viruses will continue to be produced in the millions of coughing lungs - and the mutant virus’ success (by definition) is its ability to elude immunity...so profit, almighty and forever - as invincible now as Hitler must have seemed then - will provide endless recurrences of this pandemic and death, despite vaccines. But who, within the sphere, like these Germans, these Good Germans, were then - have the courage to say it out loud? No, we charge on with our myths, our Wagner, our Goethe, our Pfizer - we, magically, will rise above all others and survive. Right. Bring on the Valkyries.
All the comfortably collected, collated details of a life, with the softest, most special memories and moments repeated in comfort, complete with gentle ironies and tender bits, even stanzas of poetry and song. One example - after announcing that the Red Army was, basically en route to slaughter the listener:
“...then ‘Merriment in the Morning’ a programme of cheerful songs:
Don’t look here
Don’t look there,
Just look straight ahead!”
Ah, the thoughts we think to ourselves about our imagined uniqueness in this place, this time. (Should we write things down?) All vaporized in war, all missing in action. Or, more likely, not missed at all.
From the introduction (which should be read AFTER the book as it contains spoilers):
“How long does it take to realize a world is ending? To realize that the ending of this world is your end, too?”
“Kempowski is searching for signs that the run-of-the-mill indifference, workaday envy, and quotidian silences we know so well already contain within them the monstrousness that overturns every known rule and standard once it ripens into war.”
Or pandemic, or climate catastrophe. Just sayin’
Simply brilliant.
Accepting the potential terror of not belonging, not complying, without a second thought, these East Prussian Germans ignored the transparent truth, that the Russians - a bit pissed off - were on their way, imminently...because, as we all can attest, isn’t denial a better way to cope? Then the threat was the Nazis, now it is Capitalism. Privately owned vaccines, denying the majority of humanity access - guaranteeing that billions of variant viruses will continue to be produced in the millions of coughing lungs - and the mutant virus’ success (by definition) is its ability to elude immunity...so profit, almighty and forever - as invincible now as Hitler must have seemed then - will provide endless recurrences of this pandemic and death, despite vaccines. But who, within the sphere, like these Germans, these Good Germans, were then - have the courage to say it out loud? No, we charge on with our myths, our Wagner, our Goethe, our Pfizer - we, magically, will rise above all others and survive. Right. Bring on the Valkyries.
All the comfortably collected, collated details of a life, with the softest, most special memories and moments repeated in comfort, complete with gentle ironies and tender bits, even stanzas of poetry and song. One example - after announcing that the Red Army was, basically en route to slaughter the listener:
“...then ‘Merriment in the Morning’ a programme of cheerful songs:
Don’t look here
Don’t look there,
Just look straight ahead!”
Ah, the thoughts we think to ourselves about our imagined uniqueness in this place, this time. (Should we write things down?) All vaporized in war, all missing in action. Or, more likely, not missed at all.
From the introduction (which should be read AFTER the book as it contains spoilers):
“How long does it take to realize a world is ending? To realize that the ending of this world is your end, too?”
“Kempowski is searching for signs that the run-of-the-mill indifference, workaday envy, and quotidian silences we know so well already contain within them the monstrousness that overturns every known rule and standard once it ripens into war.”
Or pandemic, or climate catastrophe. Just sayin’
Simply brilliant.
March 22, 2025
(I made minor corrections, but did not change or alter this review, in March 2024)
This is a marvelous book and it has received many excellent reviews. Some praising the book wildly, a view I agree with, others more measured or even disappointed. Those who give little praise or dislike the book seem to confuse judgement of a work of literature with praise or condemnation of the characters or situation covered by the book. This book portrays the end of German Prussia which aside from being 'abolished' by the Allies as a political entity was handed over to the Poles in compensation for the vast stretches of their country seized by the Soviet Union. In any realistic sense Prussia ceased to exist as a German territory as Russian troops advanced through it towards Berlin and the population fled, never to return. But this is not a history, it is a portrait/story of one family and those they meet and know as their world disappears and the consequences of Hitler's Reich and its deeds come home to roost with devastating impact on the guilty and the innocent alike.
It is a wonderful and moving book and I could not recommend it more highly than the many far more talented reviewers have.
This is a marvelous book and it has received many excellent reviews. Some praising the book wildly, a view I agree with, others more measured or even disappointed. Those who give little praise or dislike the book seem to confuse judgement of a work of literature with praise or condemnation of the characters or situation covered by the book. This book portrays the end of German Prussia which aside from being 'abolished' by the Allies as a political entity was handed over to the Poles in compensation for the vast stretches of their country seized by the Soviet Union. In any realistic sense Prussia ceased to exist as a German territory as Russian troops advanced through it towards Berlin and the population fled, never to return. But this is not a history, it is a portrait/story of one family and those they meet and know as their world disappears and the consequences of Hitler's Reich and its deeds come home to roost with devastating impact on the guilty and the innocent alike.
It is a wonderful and moving book and I could not recommend it more highly than the many far more talented reviewers have.
September 6, 2020
Walter Kempowski was almost 80 years old when he wrote this account of the final winter of WWII, with the central character being a 12 year old boy who may or may not have been based on himself. Focussing on the evacuation of the German population out of East Prussia in the approach of Soviet troops, it begins almost languorously in a crumbling manor house, but accelerates as danger advances. The members of the household are almost Checkhovian in character and denial of the end of a world they've inhabited almost luxuriously due to their somewhat remote location, but increasingly visitors are coming to the gates, being welcomed in, secretly in once case, and each encounter brings alarming news of the world. There were times the narrative lagged and felt repetitive, but it was more style than the choice of the translator, and by the end, I was fully immersed.
August 31, 2016
This book was a totally unknown quantity to me. It is translated from the German language, and seems to be about a closed-off aristocratic family in a big house in East Prussia. At first, I thought- "oh it's a parade of people calling at the house!" but in fact it's more complex than that.
It is the January of 1945 and the family are aware of refugees moving from the East, of troops retreating, of the imminent danger of Russian invasion. But they all seem to be in a state of inertia. There is Auntie, running things really, the able spinster who was taken in some years before. There is Katharina, a total enigma, vague and seemingly lacking in substance. She is married to Ebhart, who was on the Russian Front in charge of "supplies" but is now safely in Italy. Her son, Peter, is 12 years old and expends much of his energy trying to avoid the Hitler Youth. There is a Polish manservant, Vladimir, two Ukrainian maids, a shady hostel down the road, and an officious Nazi called Drygalski who has lost his son in Russia, and whose wife has taken to her bed.
The visitors begin to appear, one by one. The crippled "Political Analyst" who wonders at their china and silver. The female violinist, who appears freezing one night when the army fail to get transport for her,and the artist, who hints at the bad things going on at the brick factory. But it is one further visit, a secret visit that will endanger the family.
I was slowly drawn into this book, as it presented many different facets. The characters are scrupulously drawn, nothing is rushed, and yet there is a sense of urgency, of menace: "Get out, for God's sake, stop vacillating!"
Eventually all is laid bare: betrayal, hardship and loss.
A stunning, painful portrayal of the end of the War in the East.
It is the January of 1945 and the family are aware of refugees moving from the East, of troops retreating, of the imminent danger of Russian invasion. But they all seem to be in a state of inertia. There is Auntie, running things really, the able spinster who was taken in some years before. There is Katharina, a total enigma, vague and seemingly lacking in substance. She is married to Ebhart, who was on the Russian Front in charge of "supplies" but is now safely in Italy. Her son, Peter, is 12 years old and expends much of his energy trying to avoid the Hitler Youth. There is a Polish manservant, Vladimir, two Ukrainian maids, a shady hostel down the road, and an officious Nazi called Drygalski who has lost his son in Russia, and whose wife has taken to her bed.
The visitors begin to appear, one by one. The crippled "Political Analyst" who wonders at their china and silver. The female violinist, who appears freezing one night when the army fail to get transport for her,and the artist, who hints at the bad things going on at the brick factory. But it is one further visit, a secret visit that will endanger the family.
I was slowly drawn into this book, as it presented many different facets. The characters are scrupulously drawn, nothing is rushed, and yet there is a sense of urgency, of menace: "Get out, for God's sake, stop vacillating!"
Eventually all is laid bare: betrayal, hardship and loss.
A stunning, painful portrayal of the end of the War in the East.
November 16, 2020
E' stato il seguito del libro letto in precedenza, infatti, dopo Babij Jar, che raccontava della occupazione e poi della ritirata dall'Ucraina dopo la disfatta di Stalingrado, seguire in questo libro il disfacimento dell'esercito nazista mi è sembrato la giusta continuazione della storia, vista sotto l'insegna dell'ammissione della colpa. Nazioni occupate, popolazioni spostate, o mandate a lavorare per la Germania, gente dispersa e allontanata dalle proprie radici, per poi essere costretti a subire la stessa fine, come sfollati, ma sempre con la convinzione di una superiorità di razza o di etnia.
Stereotipi e ignoranza che mi sembra di veder baluginare, covate sotto la cenere, anche oggi, pur con la larga scala imposta dalla globalizzazione.
Non c'è niente da fare: non impariamo mai!
Stereotipi e ignoranza che mi sembra di veder baluginare, covate sotto la cenere, anche oggi, pur con la larga scala imposta dalla globalizzazione.
Non c'è niente da fare: non impariamo mai!
February 21, 2019
I have read many novels set during WWII. Most of them feature relationships between various characters, interweaving both fictional and realistic events, tragedy aplenty but some hopeful possibilities, as well. It has been years since I read such an existential work. This German author exposes the horror of life in his homeland at the end of the war, no sentimental claptrap, no heroic efforts on anyone’s part. And yet, I cared deeply about the lives of these people, none of whom were particularly likable. A rewarding read.
January 13, 2025
Her Şey Nafile, İkinci Dünya Savaşı’nın son zamanlarını, apolitik bir aristokrat ailenin, Von Globiglerin savaştan payına düşeni almasının hikayesiyle beraber anlatan nefis bir roman. Küçük bir Doğu Prusya şehrinde, eski ihtişamını biraz yitirmiş bir konaktan bakıyoruz 1945 Almanya’sına. Her ne kadar eski varlıklı günleri geride kalmış olsa da, savaşın ve yoksulluğun pek de farkında olmadan yaşayıp giden bir aile Von Globigler. Ancak savaşın sonunda, Kızıl Ordu’nun kapıya dayanmasıyla işler değişmeye başlıyor. Kocası çeşitli ülkelerden Nazi ordusuna yiyecek ve teçhizat temin etmekle görevli bir kadın, onun on iki yaşındaki oğlu, roman boyunca ‘Hala’ diye anılan yaşlı bir akraba ve biri Polonyalı ikisi Ukraynalı olan konağın çalışanlarından oluşan aile, günlük hayatına devam ederken, önce konağa gelen farklı misafirler aracılığıyla dış dünyada olanlara kulaklarını tıkayamaz hale geliyor, kısa süre sonra ise savaşın gerçekliğinden daha fazla kaçamıyorlar.
Buraya kadar sıradan bir savaş romanı okuduğunuzu zannedebilirsiniz ancak roman, özellikle iki yönüyle bu konuda yazılan kurgular arasında ayrı bir yere sahip bence. Birincisi, hepsi birbirinden renkli ve toplumun çok farklı kesimlerinden olmalarıyla inanılmaz geniş bir panorama çizen karakterleri. Roman, özellikle başlarda, bir karakterler resmi geçidi gibi. Farklı sınıf, siyasi görüş, ırk, mezhep ve geçmişe sahip bir sürü karakterle çok bütünlüklü bir portre çiziyor yazar oldukça ustalıklı bir şekilde. Ayrıca bu karakterlerin hepsi, okurken ete kemiğe bürünüyor karşınızda, öylesine gerçekler. İkincisi ise, yazara pek çok övgüde bahsedildiği gibi, onun mesafeli ve uzak anlatımı. İnsanlığa inancı kökünden sarsan olaylar ve dramlar da yaşanıyor, insan denen varlığın hiçbir zaman tam anlamıyla çözülemeyecek bir muamma olduğuna kanıt durumlar ve umut vaat edenler de ancak yazar her durumda bunları uzaktan kaydeden bir kameraman gibi mesafesini koruyor. Bu da anlatıları daha da etkileyici hale getiriyor.
Çok beğendim. Okuyun, pişman olmazsınız.
Buraya kadar sıradan bir savaş romanı okuduğunuzu zannedebilirsiniz ancak roman, özellikle iki yönüyle bu konuda yazılan kurgular arasında ayrı bir yere sahip bence. Birincisi, hepsi birbirinden renkli ve toplumun çok farklı kesimlerinden olmalarıyla inanılmaz geniş bir panorama çizen karakterleri. Roman, özellikle başlarda, bir karakterler resmi geçidi gibi. Farklı sınıf, siyasi görüş, ırk, mezhep ve geçmişe sahip bir sürü karakterle çok bütünlüklü bir portre çiziyor yazar oldukça ustalıklı bir şekilde. Ayrıca bu karakterlerin hepsi, okurken ete kemiğe bürünüyor karşınızda, öylesine gerçekler. İkincisi ise, yazara pek çok övgüde bahsedildiği gibi, onun mesafeli ve uzak anlatımı. İnsanlığa inancı kökünden sarsan olaylar ve dramlar da yaşanıyor, insan denen varlığın hiçbir zaman tam anlamıyla çözülemeyecek bir muamma olduğuna kanıt durumlar ve umut vaat edenler de ancak yazar her durumda bunları uzaktan kaydeden bir kameraman gibi mesafesini koruyor. Bu da anlatıları daha da etkileyici hale getiriyor.
Çok beğendim. Okuyun, pişman olmazsınız.
July 22, 2021
A bleak and beautiful novel of futility, this might be one of the best World War II novels I've ever read, certainly one of the most important German novels of recent years. This might seem strange since the narrative unfolds from the German perspective, but the setting--the massive refugee exodus from East Prussia in early 1945 when the Soviet forces moved west--constitutes one of the biggest movements of people in wartime ever, with all its concomitant tragedy and horror. The main cast of characters are the von Globigs who live in an old manor house: the mother the beautiful Katharina, her son Peter, their "Auntie" and some foreign servants. The husband is a Nazi officer in Italy and is only the faintest of presences.
The choppy, almost ghostly narrative, peppered with constant questions as to the titular futility and the uncertainty of what is going to happen, is often terrifying and death is ever-present. The story gets progressively darker and darker as the trickle of refugees past their manor house begins, eventually engulfing them in its violence.
I don't want to give anything else anyway. I can compare it to Yourcenar's Coup de Grace, about eastern Prussia Germans during World War I, strangely, but it shares the same trance-like quality of impending doom.
The choppy, almost ghostly narrative, peppered with constant questions as to the titular futility and the uncertainty of what is going to happen, is often terrifying and death is ever-present. The story gets progressively darker and darker as the trickle of refugees past their manor house begins, eventually engulfing them in its violence.
I don't want to give anything else anyway. I can compare it to Yourcenar's Coup de Grace, about eastern Prussia Germans during World War I, strangely, but it shares the same trance-like quality of impending doom.
January 15, 2024
niezwykle poruszający w swoim chłodzie i pozornym dystansie obraz końca wojny.
wspaniały literacko początek roku i w ogóle idealna powieść na czas tej nie za wesołej zimy za oknem.
wspaniały literacko początek roku i w ogóle idealna powieść na czas tej nie za wesołej zimy za oknem.
January 8, 2025
Ein erschütterndes Buch. Gegen Ende des Zweiten Weltkrieges. Katharina von Globig, eine schöne, musisch interessierte Frau, ist durch Heirat zur Herrin eines ostpreußischen Gutshofes geworden. Über all die Jahre ist sie dort eine Fremde geblieben, die dem einfachen, monotonen, ländlichen Leben nicht wirklich etwas abgewinnen kann und eher über den Dingen schwebt.
Doch im eisigen Winter, in denen unzählige Menschen vor der näher rückenden russischen Armee fliehen, rückt ihr die Wirklichkeit immer näher und sie kann sich ihr bald nicht mehr entziehen.
Als sie vom Pfarrer gefragt wird, ob sie jemanden verstecken würde und ja sagt, tut sie das nicht aus einem moralischen, eher aus einem literarischen Impuls, als wolle sie sehen, wohin die Geschichte sie treiben wird, die sie später erzählen möchte. Es nimmt kein gutes Ende.
Die Gnadenlosigkeit der Ereignisse hätte ich ohne die nüchterne Distanz der Erzählung zur eigenen Hauptfigur nur schwer ertragen. Die erlebte Rede, die fragmentarischen und redundanten Gedankensätze haben mir geholfen, eine Figur zu verstehen, die aus heutigem Blick unzeitgemäß erscheint. Eine privilegierte Frau, die sich über den Geschehnissen glaubt und doch so gewöhnlich ins zeitliche Grauen gezogen wird - und ihm ebenso wenig entkommt wie die anderen. Der Roman hat eine gewisse Zähigkeit, eine Sperrigkeit, die es nicht leicht macht, ihn zu mögen. Das finde ich aber dem Erzählten ganz und gar angemessen.
Ich habe mich beim Lesen wiederholt nach einer Wendung ins Happy End gesehnt, nach einem Ausweg.. Den 5. Stern gab es von mir gerade, weil das Buch sich solchen Bedürfnissen nach Behaglichkeit nicht anbiedert, sondern in aller Parabelhaftigkeit bei der Ausweglosigkeit einer ganzen Epoche bleibt.
Doch im eisigen Winter, in denen unzählige Menschen vor der näher rückenden russischen Armee fliehen, rückt ihr die Wirklichkeit immer näher und sie kann sich ihr bald nicht mehr entziehen.
Als sie vom Pfarrer gefragt wird, ob sie jemanden verstecken würde und ja sagt, tut sie das nicht aus einem moralischen, eher aus einem literarischen Impuls, als wolle sie sehen, wohin die Geschichte sie treiben wird, die sie später erzählen möchte. Es nimmt kein gutes Ende.
Die Gnadenlosigkeit der Ereignisse hätte ich ohne die nüchterne Distanz der Erzählung zur eigenen Hauptfigur nur schwer ertragen. Die erlebte Rede, die fragmentarischen und redundanten Gedankensätze haben mir geholfen, eine Figur zu verstehen, die aus heutigem Blick unzeitgemäß erscheint. Eine privilegierte Frau, die sich über den Geschehnissen glaubt und doch so gewöhnlich ins zeitliche Grauen gezogen wird - und ihm ebenso wenig entkommt wie die anderen. Der Roman hat eine gewisse Zähigkeit, eine Sperrigkeit, die es nicht leicht macht, ihn zu mögen. Das finde ich aber dem Erzählten ganz und gar angemessen.
Ich habe mich beim Lesen wiederholt nach einer Wendung ins Happy End gesehnt, nach einem Ausweg.. Den 5. Stern gab es von mir gerade, weil das Buch sich solchen Bedürfnissen nach Behaglichkeit nicht anbiedert, sondern in aller Parabelhaftigkeit bei der Ausweglosigkeit einer ganzen Epoche bleibt.
August 28, 2020
Walter Kempowski was an obsessive collector of memories of the Second World War in Germany, which he compiled in a series of volumes called Echolot, literally Soundings. All for Nothing is a novel set in January 1945, when the Soviet Army invaded East Prussia, destroying everything in their path and raping every woman they could get their hands on. The semi-aristocratic von Globig family live in a manor called the Georgenhof, near a town called Mitkau (apparently fictitious) on the road to Elbing. Father Eberhard is stationed in Italy, an army administrative officer who so far had a good war and supplied his family with lots of delicacies. Wife Katharina, a dark-haired beauty, dotes on their twelve-year old son Peter. Their household includes an aunt from Silesia, a Polish servant who looks after the animals (including a peacock), and two Ukrainian maidservants. We also meet Dr. Wagner, a schoolmaster, Drygalski the local Nazi party official, and a couple of mysterious passing visitors, and eventually a horde of refugees literally fleeing the wrath to come.
We could describe this book as a ‘slow burner’ till precisely the middle, when the Russian bombardment opens up. Till then most of the Germans cheer themselves with false confidence that the enemy will be repelled or not turn out so terrible after all. Once the flight begins, escape to the west is cut off. Reaching the shores of the Baltic and being picked up by a ship remains the only hope. Even towards the end the efficiency of the German character remains—military police capturing and hanging deserters; party officials cataloguing abandoned farm wagons.
It’s difficult to imagine who would enjoy this book, which is essentially tragedy played out as dark comedy. It was unputdownable but definitely depressing. How does one apply the title? Was the “all” that was “for nothing” the Nazi regime, the lost provinces of eastern Germany that were annexed by Poland and Russia, the Germans who were killed or expelled, or perhaps all worldly ambitions? I cannot help asking, should any of us deserve better?
We could describe this book as a ‘slow burner’ till precisely the middle, when the Russian bombardment opens up. Till then most of the Germans cheer themselves with false confidence that the enemy will be repelled or not turn out so terrible after all. Once the flight begins, escape to the west is cut off. Reaching the shores of the Baltic and being picked up by a ship remains the only hope. Even towards the end the efficiency of the German character remains—military police capturing and hanging deserters; party officials cataloguing abandoned farm wagons.
It’s difficult to imagine who would enjoy this book, which is essentially tragedy played out as dark comedy. It was unputdownable but definitely depressing. How does one apply the title? Was the “all” that was “for nothing” the Nazi regime, the lost provinces of eastern Germany that were annexed by Poland and Russia, the Germans who were killed or expelled, or perhaps all worldly ambitions? I cannot help asking, should any of us deserve better?
March 6, 2023
Un libro sobre la vida “dentro” de la Alemania nazi, para aquellos que hayáis leído la “Ladrona es libros” es más conmovedora y es bastante más objetiva que el Tatuador de Auschwitz…
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La historia comienza en el campo, en Georgenhof, una pequeña familia alemana, que además tiene en casa a un trabajador polaco, y dos refugiadas ucranianas…
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Según pasan los capítulos, nos van presentando nuevos personajes que llegan a este hogar , un político ladrón , una violinista nazi, cada uno con sus ideales…
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Es una novela con una historia impactante, es un testimonio del autor sobre las víctimas que fueron marginadas, cuenta a través de los personajes cómo fue testigo de los horrores a todos los refugiados tras la guerra.
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Un libro muy recomendado para los que les guste saber sobre lo que paso después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial… y aunque hay psrtes más lentas, me ha parecido magnífico.
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La historia comienza en el campo, en Georgenhof, una pequeña familia alemana, que además tiene en casa a un trabajador polaco, y dos refugiadas ucranianas…
.
Según pasan los capítulos, nos van presentando nuevos personajes que llegan a este hogar , un político ladrón , una violinista nazi, cada uno con sus ideales…
.
Es una novela con una historia impactante, es un testimonio del autor sobre las víctimas que fueron marginadas, cuenta a través de los personajes cómo fue testigo de los horrores a todos los refugiados tras la guerra.
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Un libro muy recomendado para los que les guste saber sobre lo que paso después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial… y aunque hay psrtes más lentas, me ha parecido magnífico.
September 10, 2023
Moralna klęska niemieckiego mieszczaństwa. Wspaniała.
December 12, 2024
1945'te geçen roman, neşeli ve kalabalık Von Globig ailesinin konağında başlıyor. Ev halkını, ailenin dostlarını tanıyor, olayları karakterlerin gözünden okuyoruz. Zaman ilerleyip, konağa bazı konuklar gelip giderken savaş da o karanlık ve soğuk yüzünü yavaş yavaş göstermeye başlıyor.
Her Şey Nafile, karakter çeşitliliği ve bölümlerinin zenginliği ile bir tiyatro metni gibi. Gözümün önüne hep tek mekan, değişen karakterler ve arka planda yaşananlarla bir tiyatro sahnesi geldi. Biraz Beckett biraz da Brecht havası hissettim. Çok fazla filme ve romana konu olmuş İkinci Dünya Savaşı hakkında yazılan iyi romandan biri bu roman da. Bunda yazar Kempowski'nin okuruyla arasına mesafe koymayı başarması da önemli bir etken. "Sizin duygularınızla ilgilenmiyorum, yaşananlar zaten böyleydi." diyen bir tavrı var sanki. Son yüz sayfa savaşın trajedisini tüm çıplaklığı ile gözler önüne serse de ajitasyon yapıyormuş gibi hissettirmiyor. Ben öyle hissetmedim en azından. İyi bir kurgu okuyorum hissinin yanında iyi çekilmiş bir savaş belgeseli izliyormuş gibi hissettim. Bu da böyle bir roman için bir başarı örneği diye düşünüyorum.
Her Şey Nafile, karakter çeşitliliği ve bölümlerinin zenginliği ile bir tiyatro metni gibi. Gözümün önüne hep tek mekan, değişen karakterler ve arka planda yaşananlarla bir tiyatro sahnesi geldi. Biraz Beckett biraz da Brecht havası hissettim. Çok fazla filme ve romana konu olmuş İkinci Dünya Savaşı hakkında yazılan iyi romandan biri bu roman da. Bunda yazar Kempowski'nin okuruyla arasına mesafe koymayı başarması da önemli bir etken. "Sizin duygularınızla ilgilenmiyorum, yaşananlar zaten böyleydi." diyen bir tavrı var sanki. Son yüz sayfa savaşın trajedisini tüm çıplaklığı ile gözler önüne serse de ajitasyon yapıyormuş gibi hissettirmiyor. Ben öyle hissetmedim en azından. İyi bir kurgu okuyorum hissinin yanında iyi çekilmiş bir savaş belgeseli izliyormuş gibi hissettim. Bu da böyle bir roman için bir başarı örneği diye düşünüyorum.
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