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La casa herida
Una mirada a la historia personal y una confrontación directa con el pasado nacionalsocialista de la sociedad alemana, para tratar de encontrar respuesta a una pregunta que impide seguir adelante: cómo fue posible algo que hoy no se alcanza a imaginar.
En 1965, el periodista Horst Krüger asistió a los Juicios de Auschwitz en Fráncfort, donde se juzgó a veintidós personas por los crímenes perpetrados por iniciativa personal en el campo de concentración y exterminio de Auschwitz-Birkenau durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial. Hombres grises que habían sido capaces de cometer los actos de la mayor crueldad para después, «desnazificados», retomar donde la dejaron su vida de buenos ciudadanos y mantener incluso amplias cuotas de poder profesional, político e intelectual.
Emprende ahí una búsqueda de la niñez que, veinte años después de 1945, lo lleva a Eichkamp y hasta «la casa herida», las ruinas del hogar familiar, metáfora de la estrechez de miras opresiva y decadente de la pequeña burguesía alemana que miró entre la sorpresa, la indignación y la fascinación el ascenso del nacionalsocialismo. Reconstruye el mundo de los perpetradores o de los que dejaron pasar, una sociedad que se entregó a la comodidad del delirio nacionalsocialista.
Nos habla de amigos comprometidos con la resistencia de los que se apartó por cobardía, reconoce que nunca fue héroe y se pregunta qué habría hecho él, si, cuando estuvo en el ejército, le hubieran ordenado participar él también en el trabajo del genocidio.
En 1965, el periodista Horst Krüger asistió a los Juicios de Auschwitz en Fráncfort, donde se juzgó a veintidós personas por los crímenes perpetrados por iniciativa personal en el campo de concentración y exterminio de Auschwitz-Birkenau durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial. Hombres grises que habían sido capaces de cometer los actos de la mayor crueldad para después, «desnazificados», retomar donde la dejaron su vida de buenos ciudadanos y mantener incluso amplias cuotas de poder profesional, político e intelectual.
Emprende ahí una búsqueda de la niñez que, veinte años después de 1945, lo lleva a Eichkamp y hasta «la casa herida», las ruinas del hogar familiar, metáfora de la estrechez de miras opresiva y decadente de la pequeña burguesía alemana que miró entre la sorpresa, la indignación y la fascinación el ascenso del nacionalsocialismo. Reconstruye el mundo de los perpetradores o de los que dejaron pasar, una sociedad que se entregó a la comodidad del delirio nacionalsocialista.
Nos habla de amigos comprometidos con la resistencia de los que se apartó por cobardía, reconoce que nunca fue héroe y se pregunta qué habría hecho él, si, cuando estuvo en el ejército, le hubieran ordenado participar él también en el trabajo del genocidio.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1966
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 99 reviews
May 30, 2021
The author of this book grew up in a 1930’s Berlin suburb. His father was injured in WWI and held a respected job, his mother was a Catholic, who tended to retire with mysterious illnesses. His parents were tired of war, inflation, and conflict. They wanted a quiet life in which to raise their children, tend their garden, compete quietly with their neighbours… They were, as Kruger points out, apolitical, respectable, removed. They tended not to talk to each other, or confront events, but, like many at that time, they were quietly accepting. The rise of Hitler led them to be more confident about their country, suddenly proud of being German, hopeful for change.
Change was certainly coming, and – in this book - the author confronts his youth, under Hitler. Where his parents openly agreed that much information given in the press, on the radio and in the newspapers, was wrong, but warned him not to disagree outside the safety of their respectable house. However, it was impossible to ignore history when it pressed against the very door and the author tells of his young life. Of the suicide of his sister, his inadvertent escapade into treasonous activities, his despair at the end of the war, which led him to surrender to the Americans.
It also tells of his attendance, as a journalist, of the 1965 Auschwitz trial in Frankfurt. Of the embarrassment, and unease, that his informing people he would be going to the trial caused. He was aware that nobody wished to hear of those things, but he was keen to understand the myth and the horror, only to discover the banality of evil. ‘Death,’ he muses, ‘as an act of administration.’ Defendants who are indistinguishable from anyone else attending the Court – including, bizarrely, those getting married in another part of the building. Men who have returned to Germany to re-build their life – to act as nurses, shopkeepers, accountants. Take away the uniform of the SS and you are left with middle aged men who go for lunch, laugh and joke with each other, have families. Kruger muses, perceptibly that that may be why so many of their victims do not return to Germany – how can they tell who could have been responsible for that evil, when they look placid now, rather than brutal?
This is a beautifully written, carefully constructed, look at the author’s younger years, when he grew up in a country dominated by Hitler, before this life passes, ‘into the hands of historians,’ as he puts it so well. It is a brave, honest account of how the horrors of Auschwitz occurred in a country where everyone denied all knowledge of what was happening. Indeed, the author himself states he had not heard the word Auschwitz while he was a soldier, but he honestly assesses what he might have done had he been ordered there. His father, never a Party member, was obviously not a supporter of the Nazi’s, but his parents were also impressed by the early successes of the regime, and it was this apathy that allowed what followed. The Jewish neighbours who left, whose absence was not questioned. The denial of knowledge, the looking away. I cannot recommend this highly enough and think it is a must-read for anyone interested in those years. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.
Change was certainly coming, and – in this book - the author confronts his youth, under Hitler. Where his parents openly agreed that much information given in the press, on the radio and in the newspapers, was wrong, but warned him not to disagree outside the safety of their respectable house. However, it was impossible to ignore history when it pressed against the very door and the author tells of his young life. Of the suicide of his sister, his inadvertent escapade into treasonous activities, his despair at the end of the war, which led him to surrender to the Americans.
It also tells of his attendance, as a journalist, of the 1965 Auschwitz trial in Frankfurt. Of the embarrassment, and unease, that his informing people he would be going to the trial caused. He was aware that nobody wished to hear of those things, but he was keen to understand the myth and the horror, only to discover the banality of evil. ‘Death,’ he muses, ‘as an act of administration.’ Defendants who are indistinguishable from anyone else attending the Court – including, bizarrely, those getting married in another part of the building. Men who have returned to Germany to re-build their life – to act as nurses, shopkeepers, accountants. Take away the uniform of the SS and you are left with middle aged men who go for lunch, laugh and joke with each other, have families. Kruger muses, perceptibly that that may be why so many of their victims do not return to Germany – how can they tell who could have been responsible for that evil, when they look placid now, rather than brutal?
This is a beautifully written, carefully constructed, look at the author’s younger years, when he grew up in a country dominated by Hitler, before this life passes, ‘into the hands of historians,’ as he puts it so well. It is a brave, honest account of how the horrors of Auschwitz occurred in a country where everyone denied all knowledge of what was happening. Indeed, the author himself states he had not heard the word Auschwitz while he was a soldier, but he honestly assesses what he might have done had he been ordered there. His father, never a Party member, was obviously not a supporter of the Nazi’s, but his parents were also impressed by the early successes of the regime, and it was this apathy that allowed what followed. The Jewish neighbours who left, whose absence was not questioned. The denial of knowledge, the looking away. I cannot recommend this highly enough and think it is a must-read for anyone interested in those years. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.
April 29, 2020
Horst Krüger war 14 Jahre, als Hitler die Macht in Deutschland übernahm. Er wuchs in einer Berliner Arbeitersiedlung auf und erlebte eine Jugendzeit, wie viele andere in den 30er Jahren. Und obwohl es nicht viel Außergewöhnliches gab und man solche Erzählungen und Biografien der Alten schon zigmal gehört und gelesen hat, ist es doch immer wieder interessant, damit konfrontiert zu werden. Horst Krüger ist nach dem Krieg Journalist geworden, doch sein Schreibstil in seiner Biografie ist ganz und ganz nicht im Stil einer Reportage. Er ist überaus spöttisch, was das kleinbürgerliche Verhalten seiner Eltern angeht. Er ist anklagend, wenn er über den Selbstmord seiner Schwester berichtet. Er ist verzweifelt, wenn er über seine eigene Inhaftierung im Dritten Reich und später über die Auschwitz-Prozesse in Frankfurt berichtet. Oft ist sein Schreibstil abgehakt, hetzend, aber auch eindringlich. Er erinnerte mich an den Schreibstil Christa Wolfs, den ich eigentlich gar nicht mag. Hier funktionierte es aber hervorragend, da seine Gedankenströme immer eindeutig sind.
Ich habe das Buch verschlungen. Schon alleine das Lesetempo ist ein Indiz dafür, dass es mir gefallen hat. Ich war sehr angetan von der Art, wie seine Autobiografie eine Aufarbeitung von Hitlers Deutschland ist. Geschrieben hat er dieses Buch Ende der 60er Jahre und er endet mit der Aussage, dass dieses neue Deutschland wohl nie von Hitler loskommen wird. Auch 50 Jahre nach Erscheinen hat dieses Buch nichts an seiner Gültigkeit verloren. Empfehlenswert.
Ich habe das Buch verschlungen. Schon alleine das Lesetempo ist ein Indiz dafür, dass es mir gefallen hat. Ich war sehr angetan von der Art, wie seine Autobiografie eine Aufarbeitung von Hitlers Deutschland ist. Geschrieben hat er dieses Buch Ende der 60er Jahre und er endet mit der Aussage, dass dieses neue Deutschland wohl nie von Hitler loskommen wird. Auch 50 Jahre nach Erscheinen hat dieses Buch nichts an seiner Gültigkeit verloren. Empfehlenswert.
November 2, 2022
Horst Krüger schreef dit boek in 1964. Het beschrijft zijn jonge leven en dat van zijn familie in de periode 1933-1945. Twintig jaar later woont hij als journalist het Auschwitz proces bij en hij ziet niet wie de beklaagden zijn, wie de slachtoffers en wie de rechters. Dit doet hem bij zichzelf afvragen hoe hij ooit het onderscheid zou kunnen herkennen tussen goed en kwaad omdat deze mensen er zo gewoon uitzien en hoe hij zou hebben gereageerd als de omstandigheden anders waren geweest.
Horst Krüger wrote this book in 1964. It describes his young life and that of his family in the period 1933-1945. Twenty years later, he attends the Auschwitz trial as a journalist and does not see who the defendants are, who the victims and who the judges are. This makes him wonder how he could ever recognize the difference between right and wrong because these people look so ordinary and how he would have reacted if the circumstances had been different.
Horst Krüger wrote this book in 1964. It describes his young life and that of his family in the period 1933-1945. Twenty years later, he attends the Auschwitz trial as a journalist and does not see who the defendants are, who the victims and who the judges are. This makes him wonder how he could ever recognize the difference between right and wrong because these people look so ordinary and how he would have reacted if the circumstances had been different.
June 26, 2021
The Broken House has been described as an account, a memoir, an autobiographical novel. It is closer to a novel, using a narrative that is out of sequence, spiralling backward and forward, building towards the source: 1966, two years after the Auschwitz trial attended by Kruger. The work is a study of guilt and a record of collapse. The broken house is the self, the family, and the State. Kruger was a writer-philosopher, who studied under Heidegger, and this adds lucidity to the writing and a sense of paradox -- his surrender to the Americans is described as the freedom of constraint. In the The Broken House, Horst probes individual minds, how people came to serve Nazism even though they despised Nazi philosophy or were apolitical. The writing is historically incisive, but never becomes a history book, another account of the Third Reich and its breakdown: its emotional power takes the writing continuously towards poetry, towards feeling, and a language that echoes Keats. Hyperion occurs in the novel as a sort of existential myth:
"But cannot I create?
Cannot I form? Cannot I fashion forth
Another world, another universe,
To overbear and crumble this to nought?
The destruction of the Third Reich is constantly sought by Kruger. He longs to crumble it and fashion another world -- which is the novel. The Broken House is a tremendous piece of sustained writing.
"But cannot I create?
Cannot I form? Cannot I fashion forth
Another world, another universe,
To overbear and crumble this to nought?
The destruction of the Third Reich is constantly sought by Kruger. He longs to crumble it and fashion another world -- which is the novel. The Broken House is a tremendous piece of sustained writing.
July 1, 2021
Krüger was a boy when the Nazis came to power. As his memoir closes, he is a West German journalist attending the 1964 Auschwitz trials.
Krüger does an excellent, low-key job of describing his experiences and his family’s, with no effort at self-justification or excuse. His father had served in World War I and was injured. His mother was a devout Catholic. They lived a quiet, apolitical life in the suburbs and found the Nazis distasteful. But when Hitler became Chancellor, the economy improved and Germans believed in themselves. And they were good, obedient Germans.
But for Krüger, his sister’s mysterious suicide was somehow associated with the state of the country. He took a minor role in a friend’s efforts at Nazi resistance and was lucky to get a relatively short term in prison. Like nearly everyone else, he joined the German military. He was lucky again to be sent west, not east.
Krüger knew that the war was lost as soon as Hitler made the insane decision to attack the USSR and fight a two-front war. Still, the war went on for years, with Krüger feeling the disgust and futility of being a German until he decides simply to give up, to surrender to American troops.
Years after the war, Krüger meets up with his old school friend on a visit to East Germany. He is saddened to see that his friend is a Communist apparatchik; not a passionate believer in Marxism, but a banal office worker carrying out the party’s wishes as so many Germans did for the Nazis.
When Krüger goes to the Auschwitz trial, he is struck by how many of the defendants were accused of horrible things but had been working in ordinary jobs for years, one even working for Willy Brandt’s administration. And some weren’t even Nazis; some were prisoners themselves who threw themselves into the sadism and cruelty of the camp. Considering how ordinary Germans wanted to sweep the war under the rug, and how many responsible for horrible war crimes were fully integrated back into ordinary life, Krüger muses that it’s no wonder so few people persecuted by the Nazis want to return to Germany. Imagine running into your tormentor at the grocery, the post office, the infirmary.
Krüger also admits that no matter how appalling he finds the defendants, he doesn’t know what he would have done if he’d been unlucky enough to be posted to serve in the east. Would he have followed orders, would he have gotten inured to the horror?
While we can never hope to truly understand the madness that overtook Germany in the 1930s memoirs like Krüger’s are invaluable in studying this period. I recommend adding this to your WW2 reading list.
Krüger does an excellent, low-key job of describing his experiences and his family’s, with no effort at self-justification or excuse. His father had served in World War I and was injured. His mother was a devout Catholic. They lived a quiet, apolitical life in the suburbs and found the Nazis distasteful. But when Hitler became Chancellor, the economy improved and Germans believed in themselves. And they were good, obedient Germans.
But for Krüger, his sister’s mysterious suicide was somehow associated with the state of the country. He took a minor role in a friend’s efforts at Nazi resistance and was lucky to get a relatively short term in prison. Like nearly everyone else, he joined the German military. He was lucky again to be sent west, not east.
Krüger knew that the war was lost as soon as Hitler made the insane decision to attack the USSR and fight a two-front war. Still, the war went on for years, with Krüger feeling the disgust and futility of being a German until he decides simply to give up, to surrender to American troops.
Years after the war, Krüger meets up with his old school friend on a visit to East Germany. He is saddened to see that his friend is a Communist apparatchik; not a passionate believer in Marxism, but a banal office worker carrying out the party’s wishes as so many Germans did for the Nazis.
When Krüger goes to the Auschwitz trial, he is struck by how many of the defendants were accused of horrible things but had been working in ordinary jobs for years, one even working for Willy Brandt’s administration. And some weren’t even Nazis; some were prisoners themselves who threw themselves into the sadism and cruelty of the camp. Considering how ordinary Germans wanted to sweep the war under the rug, and how many responsible for horrible war crimes were fully integrated back into ordinary life, Krüger muses that it’s no wonder so few people persecuted by the Nazis want to return to Germany. Imagine running into your tormentor at the grocery, the post office, the infirmary.
Krüger also admits that no matter how appalling he finds the defendants, he doesn’t know what he would have done if he’d been unlucky enough to be posted to serve in the east. Would he have followed orders, would he have gotten inured to the horror?
While we can never hope to truly understand the madness that overtook Germany in the 1930s memoirs like Krüger’s are invaluable in studying this period. I recommend adding this to your WW2 reading list.
February 14, 2024
Un libro di memorie molto onesto e scritto con molta semplicita', ma che pone le domande che tutti si pongono: come ha potuto il popolo tedesco permettere a Hitler di prendere il potere?
"ah, se almeno all’epoca non ci fossero state le SS e la Gestapo, questo popolo si sarebbe ribellato a Hitler. Invece non poté. Sono questi i nuovi miti del nostro tempo, le menzogne correnti, amichevoli dei nostri storici che ci scagionano tutti in modo così carino, un pot-pourri storico neotedesco che rende tutto tanto comprensibile–il terrore bruno sulla Germania–una cosa sola, però, non spiega: perché i tedeschi amarono quell’uomo, perché lo acclamarono così sinceramente, perché morirono per lui, a milioni."
"Ma com’è possibile, dopo Auschwitz, tornare a essere un cittadino tedesco irreprensibile, con modi tanto civili? Come si fa? Cosa dicono in proposito i medici, gli psicologi, gli psichiatri?"
"L’unica cosa certa è che non sarei stato un eroe. Avrei fatto un passo indietro e avrei tenuto il becco chiuso. Ma chi può dire per quanto tempo mi sarei tirato indietro? Anche uccidere può diventare un’abitudine. Tutto è questione di abitudine. Se ogni giorno vengono uccise diecimila persone, chi può dire se dopo due anni non mi sarei abituato anch’io?"
Secondo me e' un peccato che l'autore parli di tutta la sua vita ed abbia lasciato volutamente fuori tutto il periodo in cui e' stato arruolato nella Wermacht, sarebbe stato veramente interessante leggere come ha vissuto quegli anni tremendi.
"ah, se almeno all’epoca non ci fossero state le SS e la Gestapo, questo popolo si sarebbe ribellato a Hitler. Invece non poté. Sono questi i nuovi miti del nostro tempo, le menzogne correnti, amichevoli dei nostri storici che ci scagionano tutti in modo così carino, un pot-pourri storico neotedesco che rende tutto tanto comprensibile–il terrore bruno sulla Germania–una cosa sola, però, non spiega: perché i tedeschi amarono quell’uomo, perché lo acclamarono così sinceramente, perché morirono per lui, a milioni."
"Ma com’è possibile, dopo Auschwitz, tornare a essere un cittadino tedesco irreprensibile, con modi tanto civili? Come si fa? Cosa dicono in proposito i medici, gli psicologi, gli psichiatri?"
"L’unica cosa certa è che non sarei stato un eroe. Avrei fatto un passo indietro e avrei tenuto il becco chiuso. Ma chi può dire per quanto tempo mi sarei tirato indietro? Anche uccidere può diventare un’abitudine. Tutto è questione di abitudine. Se ogni giorno vengono uccise diecimila persone, chi può dire se dopo due anni non mi sarei abituato anch’io?"
Secondo me e' un peccato che l'autore parli di tutta la sua vita ed abbia lasciato volutamente fuori tutto il periodo in cui e' stato arruolato nella Wermacht, sarebbe stato veramente interessante leggere come ha vissuto quegli anni tremendi.
June 3, 2021
The Broken House is not a new book – the bulk of it was written in the 1960s, the afterword a decade later – but it is the first time it has been published in English, in a translation by Shaun Whiteside (who also translated the non-fiction Aftermath by Harald Jähner, which I recommend).
What makes The Broken House so powerful is its eye-witness account of disturbing episodes from 1930s and 1940s Germany. Born out of Horst Krüger’s work as a journalist covering the Auschwitz trials in Frankfurt, it goes back to his youth in the west Berlin suburbs. It struck me how far away the grim and unornamented houses in Eichkamp appeared to be from Berlin; a world away rather than less than ten miles.
His parents are described as staid and unimaginative, seemingly becoming party members without intention: ‘the block warden came and collected our two marks fifty and we were given a badge’. It’s not surprising that the teenage Horst was entranced by his charismatic schoolfriend Wanja and, almost by accident, found himself assisting political dissidents, nor that he was later arrested. The chapter dealing with his spell in Moabit detention centre is told in simple language but it is chilling nonetheless. The investigating judge may be small and mouse-grey but the power he holds is immense. The pace is relentless so that I found it impossible to stop reading; it feels as though Krüger had to get the words out as quickly as possible to shorten the time spent remembering. I wonder if that is part of the reason he chose not to include his experiences between 1941 and 1945. When, in the very last gasps of the war, he surrendered to American troops, he had no idea what they would be like, having known only the Reich since the age of fourteen.
I recommend The Broken House to anyone interested in finding out what life was like for one seemingly ordinary man under Nazi Germany and its aftermath.
What makes The Broken House so powerful is its eye-witness account of disturbing episodes from 1930s and 1940s Germany. Born out of Horst Krüger’s work as a journalist covering the Auschwitz trials in Frankfurt, it goes back to his youth in the west Berlin suburbs. It struck me how far away the grim and unornamented houses in Eichkamp appeared to be from Berlin; a world away rather than less than ten miles.
His parents are described as staid and unimaginative, seemingly becoming party members without intention: ‘the block warden came and collected our two marks fifty and we were given a badge’. It’s not surprising that the teenage Horst was entranced by his charismatic schoolfriend Wanja and, almost by accident, found himself assisting political dissidents, nor that he was later arrested. The chapter dealing with his spell in Moabit detention centre is told in simple language but it is chilling nonetheless. The investigating judge may be small and mouse-grey but the power he holds is immense. The pace is relentless so that I found it impossible to stop reading; it feels as though Krüger had to get the words out as quickly as possible to shorten the time spent remembering. I wonder if that is part of the reason he chose not to include his experiences between 1941 and 1945. When, in the very last gasps of the war, he surrendered to American troops, he had no idea what they would be like, having known only the Reich since the age of fourteen.
I recommend The Broken House to anyone interested in finding out what life was like for one seemingly ordinary man under Nazi Germany and its aftermath.
August 19, 2021
Horst Krüger hace un relato en primera persona de su vida y la de su familia, pero que puede ser la de cualquier familia normal alemana, durante el mandato de Hitler. La aceptación de lo que estaba pasando, bien por miedo o indiferencia, permitió a Hitler llevar a cabo su proyecto.
Mientras lo estaba leyendo, inevitablemente pensaba en aquello que decía Gramsci en su Odio a los indiferentes, que la vida significa tomar partido. La indiferencia puede ser muy peligrosa, da alas al fascismo sin ser consciente de ello. Hoy, donde un nuevo fascismo más amable está resurgiendo, las palabras del teórico y militante comunista italiano siguen teniendo plena vigencia.
Mientras lo estaba leyendo, inevitablemente pensaba en aquello que decía Gramsci en su Odio a los indiferentes, que la vida significa tomar partido. La indiferencia puede ser muy peligrosa, da alas al fascismo sin ser consciente de ello. Hoy, donde un nuevo fascismo más amable está resurgiendo, las palabras del teórico y militante comunista italiano siguen teniendo plena vigencia.
January 18, 2025
"¿Por qué el final del mundo tiene siempre ese toque de puesta en escena provinciana?".
Lectura crítica y reveladora que hace una radiografía interna de esa clase burgesa alemana apolítica que permitió el horror y después siguió adelante como si nada.
Lectura crítica y reveladora que hace una radiografía interna de esa clase burgesa alemana apolítica que permitió el horror y después siguió adelante como si nada.
June 3, 2021
A memoir of growing up during the Third Reich.
Journalist Krüger attends the Frankfurt trials in the mid-sixties of 22 former Auschwitz guards for the murder of over a million prisoners. The experience dredges up memories of his life in the lead up to and during the war.
Born into a lower middle class family, Krüger grew up in a quiet Berlin suburb. His story illustrates how the Nazis insinuated their way into the ordinary person's life. Yet, for all the personal tragedy, war and atrocity he witnesses, he rarely conveys his emotional response in any depth, leaving the reader feeling at a remove.
My thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage, for the ARC.
Journalist Krüger attends the Frankfurt trials in the mid-sixties of 22 former Auschwitz guards for the murder of over a million prisoners. The experience dredges up memories of his life in the lead up to and during the war.
Born into a lower middle class family, Krüger grew up in a quiet Berlin suburb. His story illustrates how the Nazis insinuated their way into the ordinary person's life. Yet, for all the personal tragedy, war and atrocity he witnesses, he rarely conveys his emotional response in any depth, leaving the reader feeling at a remove.
My thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage, for the ARC.
June 3, 2021
This is an amazingly strong memoir of growing up in Berlin in the 1930s and how Hitler and Naziism crept into every day life. Horst Kruger writes well about his youth, adolescence and later life. The Auschitz Trials in Franfurt form the final part of the original book and the horrors of the crimes committed by those who are now respected citizens of the new Germany is very well dealt with. I studied the wars of the first half of the 20th century for my History degree and this is a text that should be included in future modules. Well translated by Shaun Whiteside. With thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the e-ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
March 5, 2024
Condivido quasi completamente il commento di @Chequers.
Anche se a me non è mancata la narrazione del periodo trascorso dall’autore nella Wermacht : egli stesso, nella postfazione , scrive che non averlo raccontato è stato volontario e, secondo me , ha fatto bene, ritengo che avrebbe appesantito un libro molto bello dove i temi principali rimangono proprio quelli che
@ Chequers cita nella sua bella recensione:
Perché arrivammo a quello ?
Perché tutti sembrano aver dimenticato?
Cosa avrei fatto io ?
Un libro molto asciutto che racconta più con accenni che con descrizioni particolareggiate , eppure fa capire tutto.
Anche se a me non è mancata la narrazione del periodo trascorso dall’autore nella Wermacht : egli stesso, nella postfazione , scrive che non averlo raccontato è stato volontario e, secondo me , ha fatto bene, ritengo che avrebbe appesantito un libro molto bello dove i temi principali rimangono proprio quelli che
@ Chequers cita nella sua bella recensione:
Perché arrivammo a quello ?
Perché tutti sembrano aver dimenticato?
Cosa avrei fatto io ?
Un libro molto asciutto che racconta più con accenni che con descrizioni particolareggiate , eppure fa capire tutto.
July 20, 2021
First published in 1966, with a 1976 afterword, and now available for an English-speaking readership for the first time, this is a powerful and moving memoir of family life under the Nazis, whilst the latter part of the book describes the author’s attendance at the Auschwitz trials. Horst Kruger was only 14 when the Nazis came to power. The regime was all he knew, and he was later conscripted to fight for it. He came from an apolitical lower-middle class background, from amongst those “harmless Germans who were never Nazis and without whom the Nazis would never have been able to do their work”. He describes with insight and empathy the “phenomenon of the apolitical lower-middle-class which in its social insecurity, its instability and its hunger for irrational solutions provided the fertile seedbed for National Socialism’s seizure of power”. He explores, without facile judgement, issues of guilt, culpability and duty, bringing us all face to face with that eternal question “what would I have done?” Honest, candid and atmospheric, it’s a reflexive and thought-provoking memoir, and a compelling and absorbing read.
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February 28, 2024Ik heb het zwaar gehad met lezen. Niet omdat ik het ontroerend vond maar ik kwam er NIET doorheen. Ik had mij beter moeten verdiepen in dat het gewoon een autobiografie is en niet een historisch verhaal, ja naja dat was het wel maar nee ik vond het verschrikkelijk.
Misschien heb ik ook een aantal bladzijdes gescand in plaats van gelezen want ik trok het niettttttttt. Echt zonde dislike.
Misschien heb ik ook een aantal bladzijdes gescand in plaats van gelezen want ik trok het niettttttttt. Echt zonde dislike.
June 20, 2021
This is a curious and consuming story that if your interested in History and the common folk the side not often heard from. Everyone is different so is this worth hearing I'd say yes absolutely 💯% and why I gave it 5 stars 🌟
One man tells his story of survival If that's the right word, in some generations I'd say existenced but this is part of the life story of Horst Ķrűger. He is a German Gentleman from the 1900 born as WW1 ended and schooled in the middle of the wars so until 1945 only he only really knew his country ruled by him that is Hitler the one no one wants to talk about specially in his homelands.
Horst Krűger was in a middle class family brought up in the outskirts of Berlin were everyone appears civil apolitical a Catholic Mum and a non practising Protestant Dad, at least I assume he was non practicing their family's and Church's weren't happy about it. This is a generation like no other mind they didn't live through the Pandemic well most that is. Your right that is worse than the Pandemic just saying there are different trials for each generation. So yes every generation is different I grew up at school having to study this time admittedly from the side of the Allies mainly. There were so many films about how Americans swept in and saved the day plus other more factual ones often not from Hollywood strangely enough. I just assumed Germany bad the people as well England the brave Victor's impeccable and good. We all grow up to see things are not that simple or even close to the truth. UK obviously still the best 👌but well love the Germanys mainly excepton on the pitch penalties or not.
Back to the book, I have been having my eye open recently to the other side of things like how Germany turned things around for themselves with help but the people had to deal with their own legacy and how they could deal with their issues if that's the way to put it. Here is a true tale of one man and how things went for him and it is a tale very much worth hearing and I hope you do read this I think it's very with your while.
One man tells his story of survival If that's the right word, in some generations I'd say existenced but this is part of the life story of Horst Ķrűger. He is a German Gentleman from the 1900 born as WW1 ended and schooled in the middle of the wars so until 1945 only he only really knew his country ruled by him that is Hitler the one no one wants to talk about specially in his homelands.
Horst Krűger was in a middle class family brought up in the outskirts of Berlin were everyone appears civil apolitical a Catholic Mum and a non practising Protestant Dad, at least I assume he was non practicing their family's and Church's weren't happy about it. This is a generation like no other mind they didn't live through the Pandemic well most that is. Your right that is worse than the Pandemic just saying there are different trials for each generation. So yes every generation is different I grew up at school having to study this time admittedly from the side of the Allies mainly. There were so many films about how Americans swept in and saved the day plus other more factual ones often not from Hollywood strangely enough. I just assumed Germany bad the people as well England the brave Victor's impeccable and good. We all grow up to see things are not that simple or even close to the truth. UK obviously still the best 👌but well love the Germanys mainly excepton on the pitch penalties or not.
Back to the book, I have been having my eye open recently to the other side of things like how Germany turned things around for themselves with help but the people had to deal with their own legacy and how they could deal with their issues if that's the way to put it. Here is a true tale of one man and how things went for him and it is a tale very much worth hearing and I hope you do read this I think it's very with your while.
May 26, 2021
Horst Kruger writes with an unflinching pen which, at times leaves the reader gasping in awe at the blind alley Germany stumbled down in the 1930's and yet, at other times, his writing feels soaked in the straightforward and withering commentary of Albert Camus which encourages wry laughter at his observational humour.
The early chapters cover Kruger's youth, although he writes of a painfully provincial, lower-middle-class upbringing his insight is razor sharp and cuts to the heart of German conservatism. His catholic mother and protestant father are a mismatched couple and Kroger often mentions the drawn out ritualised meals where he feels as if the family are being controlled by puppet strings.
Into this staid family comes the first flutterings of a resurgent German pride. Although Kroger's family are not politicised (his mother, pointedly, tells him he must effuse support for Hitler when out of the house but it is not required in the home) he somehow is drawn into the armed forces and spends four years in the war. There is little coverage of this chapter of his life, we are thrown into the narrative of his service at the tail end of the war and the circumstances of his surrender.
The book then junmps forward almost 20 years, Kroger is now a journalist and he recounts his time spent covering the Auschwitz trials. Again this section reeks of Camus, the walls of time fall away and the single, diesmbodied voice of a witness pulls Kroger and the other participants of the trial back to that dark chapter or, the death dance, as Kroger calls it.
This book grips from the first page, to read of Germany's self-delusion with such unusual and unerring honesty is revelatory and the quality of the writing is first rate. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
The early chapters cover Kruger's youth, although he writes of a painfully provincial, lower-middle-class upbringing his insight is razor sharp and cuts to the heart of German conservatism. His catholic mother and protestant father are a mismatched couple and Kroger often mentions the drawn out ritualised meals where he feels as if the family are being controlled by puppet strings.
Into this staid family comes the first flutterings of a resurgent German pride. Although Kroger's family are not politicised (his mother, pointedly, tells him he must effuse support for Hitler when out of the house but it is not required in the home) he somehow is drawn into the armed forces and spends four years in the war. There is little coverage of this chapter of his life, we are thrown into the narrative of his service at the tail end of the war and the circumstances of his surrender.
The book then junmps forward almost 20 years, Kroger is now a journalist and he recounts his time spent covering the Auschwitz trials. Again this section reeks of Camus, the walls of time fall away and the single, diesmbodied voice of a witness pulls Kroger and the other participants of the trial back to that dark chapter or, the death dance, as Kroger calls it.
This book grips from the first page, to read of Germany's self-delusion with such unusual and unerring honesty is revelatory and the quality of the writing is first rate. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
February 3, 2014
A first hand account of a middle class son in the thirties, turned soldier in the fourthies, turned journalist in the fifties in Germany. Having lived just outside Berlin, in Eichkamp, he gives an interesting insight on the german middle class and it's mentality. He talks of ambition and not questioning orders. He telss of his own life and questions his own decisions in the war. He does this with a striking honesty. He admits to not being a hero and even hates himself for having followed orders. His book does a very good job of displaying his mixed emotions and his dealing with his past in the present. How do you live on? As he witnesses the 1964 Auschwitz trial you learn the answer, easily. He talks of not being able to recognise the defendants, because there are only 'normal' people sitting in the room. The defendants turn out to be succesful businessmen, yes even nurses, that are very much liked and respected in their community. This is a great book and beautifully written, I could not put it down; it deserves the five star mark.
August 7, 2021
This is an outstanding book, an honest and open account of growing up under Hitler. It isn’t written in the way you would expect. It isn’t a linear narrative necessarily, but a first person account of key episodes in the author’s life which give an account of how an a-political, morally ‘proper’ family can enable an appalling regime to take hold. It also examines the long term effect on the German psyche. This was written in the 1960s in the aftermath of the Auschwitz trial, but it has a lot to offer us now. More, actually.
May 28, 2023
Dit boek uit 1966 is onlangs opnieuw in Duitsland uitgebracht en voor het eerst vertaald in het Nederlands (Het gebroken huis). Het is in het Duits heel goed te lezen met een beetje hulp van deepL. Krüger (1919-1999) schreef dit boek naar aanleiding van het bijwonen van het Auschwitz-proces begin jaren ’60 in Frankfurt. De reportage die hij schreef voor een Duits tijdschrift komt in dit boek als laatste hoofdstuk terug met als titel ‘Gerichtstag’. Het bijwonen van dat proces vormde de aanleiding tot het schrijven van dit boek. Hij schrijft in een nawoord bij een latere uitgave daarover:
“Die Bestialitäten, die hier verhandelt wurden, konnten mich nicht von der Frage abhalten: Und du? Wie hättest du dich verhalten, wenn du damals zufällig in die Bürokratie dieser Todeslager als kleiner Soldat geraten wärst?“
Hij was 13 toen Hitler in 1933 de macht greep. In slechts 194 pagina’s schildert hij in een ‘fabelhafte’ stijl hoe het was voor hem. Geboren en getogen in Eichkamp, een doodgewone wijk in Berlijn.
„Das Reich und die Jugend, die Kunst und der Staat – erst jetzt sah man in Eichkamp, was das für Mächte waren. Alles war jetzt so feierlich: vor den Führerreden Beethovenkonzerte im Radio, nach Bayreuth ging der große Mann auch ganz bescheiden, nackte Jünglingsstatuen grüßen von Postämtern mit lodernden Fackeln in der Faust – griechischer Frühling in Deutschland. Freilich war nie ein Eichkamper in Griechenland gewesen. Man war gerade dabei, in Heerstraße das gewaltige Stadion für die Olympischen Spiele 1936 zu bauen, und ein Abglanz von Größe fiel selbst über Eichkamp: Da baute man direkt neben dem Bahnhof das größte Versammlungshaus der Welt, die riesige Decke ganz ohne tragende Säulen, und unser kleiner, verschlafener Bahnhof hieß jetzt >>Deutschlandhalle<< und hatte einen Ausgang nach rückwärts nur für die Besucher. Das hob auch uns wieder ein wenig.“
De laatste zin van het boek luidt:
“Dieser Hitler, denke ich, der bleibt uns – lebenslänglich.
“Die Bestialitäten, die hier verhandelt wurden, konnten mich nicht von der Frage abhalten: Und du? Wie hättest du dich verhalten, wenn du damals zufällig in die Bürokratie dieser Todeslager als kleiner Soldat geraten wärst?“
Hij was 13 toen Hitler in 1933 de macht greep. In slechts 194 pagina’s schildert hij in een ‘fabelhafte’ stijl hoe het was voor hem. Geboren en getogen in Eichkamp, een doodgewone wijk in Berlijn.
„Das Reich und die Jugend, die Kunst und der Staat – erst jetzt sah man in Eichkamp, was das für Mächte waren. Alles war jetzt so feierlich: vor den Führerreden Beethovenkonzerte im Radio, nach Bayreuth ging der große Mann auch ganz bescheiden, nackte Jünglingsstatuen grüßen von Postämtern mit lodernden Fackeln in der Faust – griechischer Frühling in Deutschland. Freilich war nie ein Eichkamper in Griechenland gewesen. Man war gerade dabei, in Heerstraße das gewaltige Stadion für die Olympischen Spiele 1936 zu bauen, und ein Abglanz von Größe fiel selbst über Eichkamp: Da baute man direkt neben dem Bahnhof das größte Versammlungshaus der Welt, die riesige Decke ganz ohne tragende Säulen, und unser kleiner, verschlafener Bahnhof hieß jetzt >>Deutschlandhalle<< und hatte einen Ausgang nach rückwärts nur für die Besucher. Das hob auch uns wieder ein wenig.“
De laatste zin van het boek luidt:
“Dieser Hitler, denke ich, der bleibt uns – lebenslänglich.
March 24, 2025
Niet het soort boek dat je ‘even lekker uitleest’. Er zitten meeslepende passages in, gedeelte over de zinloosheid van de oorlog bijv., en zijn overgave aan de Duitsers. Prachtig. Maar soms is het ook erg traag.
November 5, 2022
Bijzonder en tijdloos boek over het jonge leven van een Duitser in de Tweede Wereldoorlog en hoe hij aankeek tegen die tijd.
February 27, 2023
After a slow-moving and intellectual novel, this slice of straightforward reality was a nice tonic.
June 4, 2025
4,5 stelle
August 27, 2022
The style was off putting for me. The sub title is misleading. But this is a book that should be read.
July 10, 2021
I was disappointed that Horst Kruger’s 1966 memoir did not deliver what was promised in the lead-up to the publication of its English translation in 2021. I had been led to believe that “No book has ever so honestly evoked the wretched terror of life in Nazi Germany” (James Hawes). It seemed promising when Kruger wrote on page 10 about “those harmless Germans who were never Nazis and without whom the Nazis would never have been able to do their work.”
However, for the next 100+ pages, Kruger spent little time on further analysis of this powerful comment and instead “flew” through his childhood, highly critical of his parents, coldly accounting for his sister’s suicide and its impact on family life. This was followed by his university years, briefly discussed, and then SUDDENLY - he’d been hauled before the Gestapo for participating with friends in the dissemination of some resistance literature. His account of this incident, as well as his disjointed jump to being a soldier on the Russian front, were too brief to contribute to our understanding of his thinking at this time. In his Afterword, written ten years later, the author himself admitted to the gaps.
Finally, in “1945 Zero Hour”, Kruger opened up about Germany’s defeat, to which he referred as “the day I was born.” He delivered the analysis of the evil in Hitler and his illusions of grandeur, and called the memoir his “self-liberation”. But, not until the last chapter, "Day of Judgement", when he had attended the Auschwitz trials in Frankfurt as a journalist, did Kruger actually share his deeper thoughts about what had transpired during the war years, particularly with reference to the horrors of Auschwitz. He considered the barbarity, observed the defendants charged with the inhumane acts in the camp and with horror realised that they looked like “everyone else”. However, though these two chapters were powerful, they were not enough to make up for the disjointedness and lack of consistent analysis in the text.
However, for the next 100+ pages, Kruger spent little time on further analysis of this powerful comment and instead “flew” through his childhood, highly critical of his parents, coldly accounting for his sister’s suicide and its impact on family life. This was followed by his university years, briefly discussed, and then SUDDENLY - he’d been hauled before the Gestapo for participating with friends in the dissemination of some resistance literature. His account of this incident, as well as his disjointed jump to being a soldier on the Russian front, were too brief to contribute to our understanding of his thinking at this time. In his Afterword, written ten years later, the author himself admitted to the gaps.
Finally, in “1945 Zero Hour”, Kruger opened up about Germany’s defeat, to which he referred as “the day I was born.” He delivered the analysis of the evil in Hitler and his illusions of grandeur, and called the memoir his “self-liberation”. But, not until the last chapter, "Day of Judgement", when he had attended the Auschwitz trials in Frankfurt as a journalist, did Kruger actually share his deeper thoughts about what had transpired during the war years, particularly with reference to the horrors of Auschwitz. He considered the barbarity, observed the defendants charged with the inhumane acts in the camp and with horror realised that they looked like “everyone else”. However, though these two chapters were powerful, they were not enough to make up for the disjointedness and lack of consistent analysis in the text.
January 15, 2023
“The Broken House” tells us, among other powerful stories, about a twenty-five years old German soldier who was fourteen at the time Hitler came to power, who fought at Monte Casino among other battlefields, and who, on the night of Easter Sunday 1945, decided to “rise” and cross over to the other side, to be finally “free” of the “dark man”, Hitler, and his Reich, of hatred and war, and of the “Nibelungen loyalty” that required that everyone had to sacrifice down to the very last one.
Although this memoir is Horst Kruger’s debut novel, it is written in a tremendously accomplished style. There’s no wonder he became a member of the German Academy for Language and Poetry.
The book makes for an unforgettable reading that leads to a powerful conclusion: “there was once a war that Germany and Hitler lost, and in their defeat, the order of the world was restored. Good was powerful, evil was defeated. There was justice in the world.” (p.139)
Let it always be justice in the world!
Although this memoir is Horst Kruger’s debut novel, it is written in a tremendously accomplished style. There’s no wonder he became a member of the German Academy for Language and Poetry.
The book makes for an unforgettable reading that leads to a powerful conclusion: “there was once a war that Germany and Hitler lost, and in their defeat, the order of the world was restored. Good was powerful, evil was defeated. There was justice in the world.” (p.139)
Let it always be justice in the world!
May 8, 2017
This non-fiction account of Kruger's Third Reich-era adolescence and Cold War adulthood in Berlin has sat on our bookshelves (courtesy of my partner) for many years; recent political developments prompted me to thumb through it and then to read it. Not every part of the story is equally compelling, but it's a thought-provoking examination of what an average German--not politically astute, nor morally absolved--experienced during those critical years. I would recommend it without hesitation for those interested in first-person WWII histories or simply seeking greater understanding of Fascist era politics.
July 10, 2010
Strange and vaguely awkward feeling when reading this book. Like I was peeping through someone's windows. That said, it was a very interesting view of what life was like for a relatively average family in Germany during WWII.
May 17, 2023
Ενα βιβλίο για την άνοδο του Χίτλερ στην εξουσία και πως έζησε τα μετέπειτα χρόνια ο συγγραφέας και η οικογενειά του,υπο αυτό το καθεστώς.Ένα βιβλίο που αποτελεί κριτική αλλά και "κατηγορώ" του συγγραφέα ως προς τον εαυτο του αλλά και ως προς τους Γερμανούς γενικότερα.
June 2, 2021
The Broken House
This book begins with the author returning to his old neighbourhood in Berlin during the 1960’s. He arrived there as a 3 year old with his parents and his older sister in 1923 and last saw it in 1944. He grew up there as Hitler rose to power and The Broken House is an account of how he came of age as Germany prepared for World War 2 and the Holocaust. It was a lower middle class neighbourhood which was composed of families like his. Kruger’s parents were apolitical but his mother did read Mein Kampf in 1933. Kruger now stands in front of where his house used to be. It’s now a vacant lot after being bombed during the Second World War. He last saw it in 1944 when he was a lance corporal. As his parents waved him goodbye at the train station when he returned to duty, he knew that he would never see them again. He is the only member of his family left alive as his parents were killed during the war and his older sister, Ursula, killed herself in 1938. It is with a shock that he discovers that Ursula’s grave no longer exists. The section where he discusses his sister’s suicide is very sad as he spares no details in her horrible and painful death. It’s his mistake that causes her grave to be disturbed and to have someone else buried in her place. She has left no trace.
During the build-up to war, the suburb gradually changed. The Jewish families all left but it was hardly noticed. Everyone was busy getting on with their lives. Hitler arrives to great cheering and torchlight parades. Everything was going to change and Germany would be on the rise again. But slowly, insidiously their lives become enmeshed with Hitler’s rise. It’s little steps with swastika flags beginning to flutter on neighbourhood houses and the street fights between Communists and brownshirts. Hitler’s ambitious plans make him seem like a Messiah. Major infrastructure projects soon alleviate the 4 million unemployed Germans. New opera houses! Huge new official buildings! The more disturbing signs such as Kristellnacht and food ration cards were warnings of what was to come. But no one saw anything.
Kruger has an eventful life. He joins a small gang who were working against Hitler in the middle of Germany in 1939, is arrested and sentenced for high treason. On release he joins the Army and surrenders to the Allies as the Reich falls. As a journalist in the 1960’s when this book was first published, he reports on the Auschwitz trial of 22 guards. The ‘deskbound murderers’ who were just doing their duty had quietly faded into normal life afterwards as if they had simply erased its horrors from their minds.
This is an extraordinary book as, to some extent, it explains how Hitler seduced the German people. They had tasted a bitter defeat after the First World War, were now in a severe depression and then along comes a man who was going to raise them up again and they would be world players. It always seemed strange to me that these people could claim that no one was a Nazi, they knew nothing about Auschwitz or the other camps and there seemed to be a collective amnesia in the country. Like most takeovers it begins with little steps, one after the other, the flags, the cheering, the upbeat attitude until it was too late.
This is a warning to us all of how a country can be taken over. None of these people became Nazis and yet they ‘were the foundation for the Nazis to do their work.’
It has been said that Germany fell under Hitler’s spell and I could see how it happened. The book questions what makes people accept the unthinkable while others resist.
A thought provoking read and although it’s uncomfortable reading, it was a book that I was glad that I had read.
My thanks to Random House UK Vintage and Netgalley for an ARC.
This book begins with the author returning to his old neighbourhood in Berlin during the 1960’s. He arrived there as a 3 year old with his parents and his older sister in 1923 and last saw it in 1944. He grew up there as Hitler rose to power and The Broken House is an account of how he came of age as Germany prepared for World War 2 and the Holocaust. It was a lower middle class neighbourhood which was composed of families like his. Kruger’s parents were apolitical but his mother did read Mein Kampf in 1933. Kruger now stands in front of where his house used to be. It’s now a vacant lot after being bombed during the Second World War. He last saw it in 1944 when he was a lance corporal. As his parents waved him goodbye at the train station when he returned to duty, he knew that he would never see them again. He is the only member of his family left alive as his parents were killed during the war and his older sister, Ursula, killed herself in 1938. It is with a shock that he discovers that Ursula’s grave no longer exists. The section where he discusses his sister’s suicide is very sad as he spares no details in her horrible and painful death. It’s his mistake that causes her grave to be disturbed and to have someone else buried in her place. She has left no trace.
During the build-up to war, the suburb gradually changed. The Jewish families all left but it was hardly noticed. Everyone was busy getting on with their lives. Hitler arrives to great cheering and torchlight parades. Everything was going to change and Germany would be on the rise again. But slowly, insidiously their lives become enmeshed with Hitler’s rise. It’s little steps with swastika flags beginning to flutter on neighbourhood houses and the street fights between Communists and brownshirts. Hitler’s ambitious plans make him seem like a Messiah. Major infrastructure projects soon alleviate the 4 million unemployed Germans. New opera houses! Huge new official buildings! The more disturbing signs such as Kristellnacht and food ration cards were warnings of what was to come. But no one saw anything.
Kruger has an eventful life. He joins a small gang who were working against Hitler in the middle of Germany in 1939, is arrested and sentenced for high treason. On release he joins the Army and surrenders to the Allies as the Reich falls. As a journalist in the 1960’s when this book was first published, he reports on the Auschwitz trial of 22 guards. The ‘deskbound murderers’ who were just doing their duty had quietly faded into normal life afterwards as if they had simply erased its horrors from their minds.
This is an extraordinary book as, to some extent, it explains how Hitler seduced the German people. They had tasted a bitter defeat after the First World War, were now in a severe depression and then along comes a man who was going to raise them up again and they would be world players. It always seemed strange to me that these people could claim that no one was a Nazi, they knew nothing about Auschwitz or the other camps and there seemed to be a collective amnesia in the country. Like most takeovers it begins with little steps, one after the other, the flags, the cheering, the upbeat attitude until it was too late.
This is a warning to us all of how a country can be taken over. None of these people became Nazis and yet they ‘were the foundation for the Nazis to do their work.’
It has been said that Germany fell under Hitler’s spell and I could see how it happened. The book questions what makes people accept the unthinkable while others resist.
A thought provoking read and although it’s uncomfortable reading, it was a book that I was glad that I had read.
My thanks to Random House UK Vintage and Netgalley for an ARC.
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