This isn't a book to just pick up and read from start to finish. I mean, you can do that, I did, because I was tuck in a house with just this book and Thomas Merton's The Seven Storey Mountain, but for most readers, going at it like that will drive you to madness or to just fling it out the window into the snow eventually. Not because it's a bad book, far from it, it has an addictive quality and a narrative that, if a bit jumbled (and it might be better in...French?), makes you want to read it into the night...it's also not a happy subject, which, you knew that, I knew that, but there's knowing that and then being submerged in that, breathing that because of the rigorously researched nature of the text. If you want to start with Exilliteratur, start with the texts themselves (again, not a picnic, but not meant to be), and then go back and read this chronicle of literary resistance to evil.
Very French in terms of unshakeable authority and also general dodgy nature.