O Passageiro

by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz, Paulo Rêgo (Tradução)

Livro redescoberto 80 anos depois de escrito e celebrado como um caso editorial internacional.

Otto Silbermann é um respeitado comerciante judeu cuja vida muda drasticamente com a ascensão do nazismo. Surpreendido pelo clima de perseguição subsequente aos acontecimentos que ficariam marcados para a História como a «Noite de Cristal», Silbermann vê-se obrigado a escapar, deixando tudo para trás: a sua casa, a mulher e os negócios. Com toda a sua fortuna dentro de uma pasta, sem nenhum lugar para onde ir e ninguém que o queira auxiliar, Silbermann é agora um proscrito, um fugitivo. Resta-lhe comprar sucessivos bilhetes de comboio e viajar sem destino certo, em busca de uma qualquer saída para a sua absurda situação. Torna-se um passageiro. 

Publicado discretamente em língua inglesa numa versão não corrigida e esquecido num arquivo da Biblioteca Nacional Alemã, o manuscrito de O Passageiro só foi redescoberto recentemente, quase oito décadas depois, e por fim editado na sua língua original (depois de cuidadosamente revisto), tornando-se um verdadeiro caso literário internacional. 

Tenso e vertiginoso, carregado de humor cáustico, O Passageiro respira a atmosfera labiríntica e angustiante de Kafka, ao mesmo tempo que evoca um dos mais negros períodos da História europeia.

Versão definitiva, traduzida do original alemão, revisto e editado por Peter Graf. 

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Germany, German Literature, World War II, Holocaust, Historical

264 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1939

About the author

See also: John Grane

Reviews

[Fran · Rating 5 out of 5]

"...informants and plainclothes policemen are stalking everywhere, in trains, street corners, cafes...This is 1938, and World War Two hasn't erupted yet, but everyone knows it's coming...With the dragnet closing in, you realize you're trapped and have nowhere to go...Why didn't you flee when you could easily have done so?"

-From The Preface by Andre Aciman

Having soldiered together for three years, Silbermann and Becker became business partners. Silbermann provided the start-up capital and built the company from the ground up through diligent work. They have worked together for twenty years. Becker recently stated, "In these uncertain times, in this unclear world, there's only one thing that can be relied on, and that is friendship...for me you are a man-a German man, not a Jew". Once the populace treated Otto Silbermann as though he were one of them, but, "I'm something different...I no longer have any rights...I've been officially degraded, but the public debasement has yet to take place". Suddenly, without warning, Becker draws up a deed of partition to dissolve their partnership and declares that their friendship was over. When Silbermann threatened to denounce Becker to the National Socialist Party, Silbermann received a small payment, a fraction of the net worth of the business.

A wild ringing...fists pounding on the apartment door. "Ten minutes ago it was my house that was at stake, my property. Now it's my neck. Everything's happening so quickly...I'm completely on my own- in enemy territory...It's the times that make a person doubt everyone and everything...who could have imagined anything like it?" Silbermann determined that he must leave Germany. What country would let him in? "I have enough money to start a new life...but...to make it out of here you have to leave your money behind, and to be let in elsewhere you have to show you still have it". So, Silbermann rides the rails. "I am no longer in Germany. I am in trains that run through Germany. I am safe...I am in motion".

"The Passenger" by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz was penned in one month in November 1938 following Kristallnacht. (November 9-10, 1938). This novel was recently discovered then edited by publisher Peter Graf. "Silbermann is trying to escape from Germany and race against his despondency. He rides "...from train station to train station across a homeland that is no longer home...". His mission: "...to smuggle myself and my briefcase [of money] through both German and French lines...Where shall I go? Where can I go? Every choice is an unwise one". There are people who maintain their decency and humanity but Silbermann's trust in his fellow man is shattering. "You become so sensitive. You start smelling meanness everywhere". This work of historical fiction is arguably a riveting, emotional, and eye-opening examination of how human behavior can turn on a dime. Do not miss this highly recommended tome.

Thank you Henry Holt & Company/ Metropolitan Books and Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[Debra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Berlin November, 1939

Jewish shops have been looted and synagogues destroyed. Jews are being rounded up. Otto Silbermann, a respected businessman, decides to flee out the back door when he hears pounding on his front door. He cannot believe this is happening. He served his country in the Great War. He boards a train. It is the first train he boards but it will not be his last. He is a man on the run, boarding one train after another. Fleeing. He goes across Germany, observing, escaping, learning, escaping. Through it all, he observes indifference, he has been turned away from a business partner, betrayed, he has gone through a period of not believing to accepting what is going on.

This is a powerful novel about life in Nazi Germany. About a man whose life is falling apart. A man who cannot believe this is happening. A man who tries to flee but is stuck riding the trains as the borders have been closed. Sounds like a nightmare, right? Imagine, everything in your life changing. Places you frequented, no longer let you in. Your business is no longer wanted. Your business partner ends your professional relationship but give you only a portion of what you are owed, friends - who has friends anymore, now when people do not want to be seen associating with you.

This book has a depressing and heavy feel to it. This book played out in black and white for me. The vibe is: This cannot be real; this can't be happening - and yet it is/did. We observe as one man feels it all - as it begins to sink in.

I appreciated how the author tackled disbelief. I asked Ma once why her family did not flee Poland. Why didn't they get out when they could? She said that they did not want to leave their land, but the main reason was disbelief. They never thought it could get that bad. They thought they would be saved. When they realized how bad things were - it was too late.

This resonated for me in this book. This is a powerful book. It is tense, heavy, and also reminds readers of the author’s own journey.

The author wrote this impressive book in one month in 1938, when he was just twenty-three. This novel was recently discovered and edited. The author lived a short life and he also had to move from one county to another with his mother before being interred on the Isle of Man as "enemy aliens." He as then deported to Australia in 1940 and was permitted to return to England in 1942 but the boat he was on was torpedoed by a German Submarine. He was 27 years old.

***Hailed as a remarkable literary discovery, a lost novel of heart-stopping intensity and harrowing absurdity about flight and persecution in 1930s Germany

Thank you to Maria at Henry Holt who provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All the thoughts and opinions expressed in this review are my own.

Read more of my reviews at www.openbookposts.com

[Elyse Walters · Rating 4 out of 5]

Audiobook….read by Philip Boehm, and Neil Hellegers
…..6 hours and 51 minutes

The seriousness of this book is filled with wisecracks….but for some reason the humor and absurdities didn’t always tickle my funny bone.
I admit my own - life -distractions affected my mood while listening to this audiobook.

Although the voice narrators were excellent, I couldn’t take this book in large doses at a time.
I remember turning off the audiobook, needing to blast music and not read or listen to any book whatsoever. I hit a wall — all of a sudden— I was exhausted from listening to this story.
Doesn’t happen often — but when it does — I go with it. I trusted myself — and took as many breaks I needed.

My own brain was crying for an escape — wanting ‘brain-relief’.

So…I’m basically useless in writing much of a review for this book —
I wanted to run-away on those trains — escape my own discomfortable restless life — in the same way our protagonist — Otto Silberman - was trying to escape from Nazi persecution.

The story about Otto Silberman felt like a cerebral character study of the present day - real time - *treacherous times*….giving insights of just how severely Jews suffered — the realities were that the doors were closing in on them. Running seemed like the most prolific action to take.
Otto was filled with panic — would he survive?
Well…it certainly didn’t help matters that the Aryan community shunned and practically castigated the Jews—-by turning their BLIND EYES!
In the end….it was simply a very sad story.

It’s written with contemporary humor - and well written, period!!! ….worth reading….but with the increase of anti-Semitism in recent years - and God-only knows with SO MUCH RECENT death - sickness - grief - loss - pain - and downright bleakness due to our current state these past two years — I had to fight my own resistance to experiencing the full depths of this book.
Otto’s life - as with many Jews - were living in constant chronic fear —-DAY TO DAY feeling THREATENED —- NON-STOP HORRIFIC FEAR.

My gut ached when Otto was trying to stay AHEAD of the Nazis jumping on and off those trains — just trying to survive.
And….aren’t some of us doing that today? Just trying to survive?— the health war we find ourselves in — the day to day realities-
fearful that the dangers ain’t over yet?/!

The story about this ‘lost/re-discovered’ novel and the life and death of Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz - who died at age 23 - along with 361 others passengers who also died - while on a troopship that was torpedoed by a German submarine ……is a fascinating- bleak -sad story of its own

Sad story
Sad story about the story
……a reminder of just how devastating hopeless evil persecution is.

[Game0ftomes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly… this book felt like a long train ride where the view never changes.
I kept waiting for something to happen tension, twists, a spark but mostly got the same thoughts circling over and over again like a scratched vinyl.

[Faith · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Taut, immediate, infused with acerbic Kafkaesque humor, The Passenger is an indelible portrait of a man and a society careening out of control.” This time the blurb actually captures the book. The book was written in 1938 by the 23 year old author who died 4 years later when the ship he was on was torpedoed. He had intended to revise the book but never had the opportunity. This edition of the book, published posthumously, is the original version with some revisions.

In 1938, Otto Silbermann is a German Jew with Aryan features and a Christian wife. He owns a successful business but Jews are being arrested and he is forced to flee. However, he waited too long to escape. He is unwelcome in Germany but other countries won’t let him in. So he finds himself trapped in a succession of train trips, going back and forth among German cites, dodging capture while interacting with his fellow passengers. He bristles at being turned away by his wife’s relatives who don’t want to put themselves at jeopardy, only to find himself using the identical excuse when he is approached for help by an elderly friend. Otto is alone, swindled, robbed and, worst of all, losing the identity he once had.

This is an amazingly prescient, contemporaneous account of life in Germany at this time. It is also a well-written psychological portrait of Otto with the elements of a thriller. It’s a shame the author didn’t get to write more books.

[Matthew Ted · Rating 4 out of 5]

15th book of 2022.

This is one of those rediscovered classics that comes seemingly out of nowhere. The Passenger was originally published in Germany in 1938, '39 in the US and 1940 for England. It disappeared into obscurity and went out of print. Boschwitz was sent to Australia from England in 1939 because he was German, despite his Jewish background, and when he was finally allowed to return in 1942, his boat was torpedoed en route to England by a German submarine. He and all 362 passengers were killed. Boschwitz was 27.

The 1939 American publication translated Boschwitz's Der Reisende as The Man Who Took Trains and a year later for the English release in 1940, it was translated as The Fugitive. Pushkin Press have now translated it as The Passenger, thanks to Boschwitz's niece contacting the German editor in the 2010s. Frankly all translated titles work quite well. The quotes on the front of this book say 'Gripping' and 'Riveting', words I usually dislike when it comes to describing books. Or, rather, books that are said to be either 'Gripping' or 'Riveting' usually aren't my style of novel. I've never liked actions films much and hate crime/thriller novels. But this was both of those words. Otto Silbermann, a German-Jewish businessman, spends the duration of the novel on the run, on trains (he is the man who takes trains) lots of them, to escape the growing hostility towards Jews in Germany. Boschwitz wrote the novel in the weeks following Kristallnacht, before the yellow stars had been enforced for identifying Jews. Slowly, around him, Silbermann hears about Jews being beaten up, taken away, and arrested. Thus starts his running.

At times the novel becomes slightly repetitive due to the amount Silbermann ends up running in circles around Germany, literally hopping from one train to the next, but it never gets dull. The constant train compartments all add to the feeling of suffocation, claustrophobia, the net closing in around him. I read in a Guardian review that it is 'part John Buchan, part Franz Kafka', and I agree with that, I think. Overall a novel with a fascinating history in itself, and a fast-paced novel about a man on the run. It also gives insight into pre-war Germany and the slow emersion and spreading of hatred.

[John Hatley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This astonishing story in its own right, the story around the writing of it and the story of its young author combine to make this one of the saddest, most tragic and best books I've read in a very long time. The protagonist, Otto Silbermann, travels back and forth across Germany in a desperate attempt to escape Nazi terror.

[Cathérine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Voor alle duidelijkheid: ik heb dit boek in het Nederlands gelezen. Ik had niet de tijd en zin om de nieuwe Nederlandse editie, 'De reiziger' uitgegeven door Lebowski op Goodreads te plaatsen.
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Ik ben zwaar onder de indruk van dit boek. Het boek laat je van in het begin naar adem snakken. De paniek en de uitzichtloosheid van Otto Silbermann worden zo goed beschreven dat je onbewust steeds sneller begint te lezen doordat je de opgejaagdheid van Otto Silbermann helemaal overneemt.
Er wordt niets verbloemd, ook de kleine kantjes van Otto niet, hoe hij zich gedraagt tegenover geloofsgenoten bijvoorbeeld.
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Het besef dat dit boek weer zo actueel is en je een spiegel voorhoudt hoe Europa met hedendaagse vluchtelingen omgaat, bezorgt je een zeer naar gevoel. En ook wel dat dit boek waarschijnlijk niet gelezen gaat worden door mensen die het zouden moeten lezen om wat meer empathie en begrip voor mensen op de vlucht te kunnen opbrengen…

[cypt · Rating 4 out of 5]

GOODREADS SUĖDĖ MANO REVIEW. NEKENČIU.
Atgaminu trumpesnę (gal ir gerai...) versiją.

"Keleivis", nors yra romanas, taigi fikcinis tekstas, sykiu yra ir svarbus dokumentas. Parašytas apie Holokaustą dar vykstant Holokaustui - taigi tai liudijimas dar iki Wieselio ar Resnais; autorius Boschwitzas žuvo 1941 m. (laivą, kuriuo plaukė, torpedavo vokiečių raketa) ir nespėjo užbaigti gludinti teksto (nors kažkokią pirmą versiją jau buvo spėjęs išleisti Britanijoje). Tas padaryta tik pastaraisiais metais.

Pagrindinis veikėjas, Otas Zilbermanas, - savotiškas, ir jis man yra didžiausias knygos privalumas. Nei herojus, nei antiherojus, nei "paprastas žmogus" - veikiau toks gana neigiamas žydo-skriagos, aptekusio pinigais ir vien apie juos galvojančio, stereotipas. Veiksmas vyksta 1938 m. Vokietijoje, po pirmųjų pogromų prieš žydus, kai jie jau smarkiai (ir valstybės rankomis) diskriminuojami, apiplėšinėjami, suimami, kai atimama jų nuosavybė, kai draugai jau nebelabai nori sveikintis ar kartu pasirodyt viešoj vietoj. Otas - verslininkas milijonierius, tarsi suaugęs su savo babkėm; būtent tai jį ir pražudo: pavyzdžiui, kažkada jau susiruošia bėgti per sieną, bet kartu tempia čimodaną su turtais, pavargsta, prisėda pailsėt... ir yra sučiumpamas. Paskui tų pinigų netenka, bet jų prisiminimas jį sulaiko ir jis dėl to net atsisako pasiūlymų pabėgti - dar galvoja, kad gal turtai atsiras, reik palaukt. Skaitydama vis pagalvodavau apie Veiskopfą iš Varno "Geto" - tačiau šis yra evil spekuliantas, dirbantis, tikrąja to žodžio prasme, ant lavonų, o Otas - tiesiog gobšus ir per tą gobšumą pasmerkiamas.

Tad knygoje Otas tampa ne tiek personažu, kiek personažu-idėja, per jį pagauni save mąstant: nu blemba, taip tau ir reikia; per jį apskritai persvarstai, kaip supranti tragediją ir joje atsidūrusį žmogų. Lengva gailėti į gyvų žmonių mėsmalę papuolusių inteligentų, vaikų, motinų, senukų; lengva verkti įsivaizduojant viduržiemį išrengtus, šaudomus ir kalkėmis dusinamus kūnus. Sunkiau - į būrį, kurį suvoki kaip "nekaltuosius", įtraukti tai, kas tave užknisa, erzina.

Tai turbūt didžiausias knygos pliusas ir sunkiausias dalykas ją skaitant. Otas ir pats kažkokiu metanaratyviniu būdu tą žino ir nevengia to priminti, nuolat rėkauja: biurgeris gimiau, biurgeris ir mirsiu, ir ką - negi aš dėl to kaltas??? Lengva pasakyti: ai ne, apskritai tai aišku nekaltas. Sunkiau: suprast ir pajust, kad tas "nu gal ir pats kaltas", nepasinaudojęs ištiesta ranka ir užtat krentantis, irgi yra tame nekaltųjų būry - privalo būti. Jei reiktų trumpai apibrėžt, kokia ta Oto reprezentuojama idėja, galvočiau kažkaip - nepatogus / nepriimtinas nekaltumas.

Savo ramiu, nuemocintu ir beveik neutraliu tonu (pasakojama kaip ir iš Oto perspektyvos, girdim jo mintis - bent jau tą paviršinę "kur mano babkės", "ką daryt, gal dar nebėgt, ai ne gal bėgu" liniją) knyga primena Kafką, jo nulinį rašymo laipsnį. Tačiau, visiškai kitaip nei pas Kafką, čia nėra nei grotesko, nei absurdo, tik visiškai nykus realizmas. Ir absurdas, ir tragiškumas paliekami skaitytojų vaizduotei; retrospektyviai mes juos ir prirašom, pasakojimą sudramatinam, išdidinam, kiekviena ir kiekvienas savaip. Ir tas tarsi-neutralumas, palikimas tavęs kartu su plikais faktais atrodo kažkaip... teisinga.

Pastaruoju metu tekstai Holokausto tema, taip pat ir LT, - "ant bangos" (kad ir kaip nesiverčia liežuvis taip sakyti), taigi tarp jų gan nemažai pigienos, tear-jerkerių, įvairiausių dramų, kuriuos paskaitai, paverki, po to visiems pasakoji ir jau jautiesi praktiškai Ivaškevičius-Veisaitė-Venclova-rezistentas-žydų gelbėtojas viename. Tokiam kontekste ramus pasakojimas, išoriškai atitinkantis kažkokį pusiau šekspyrišką, pusiau viduramžišką ar net biblinį teisingumą (žmogaus yda nulemia jo/s pražūtį), bet sykiu verčiantis pasijusti nepatogiai (ar čia tikrai teisingumas?), - labai vietoje ir laiku.

[Marilyn (not getting notifications) · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Berlin, just after Kristallnacht: Nazis everywhere, Jews being hounded, picked up, beaten, and arrested, their stories ransacked and vandalized, every Jew in Greater Germany now terrorized.” This was the time and place the novel, The Passenger, written by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz and translated by Philip Boehm with a preface by Andre Aciman occurred. This novel was different and almost more terrifying than others about the Holocaust for me because it was written by “someone living through this harrowing period of history in real time.” It was written with urgency and fright, with historical accuracy, and with feelings of foreboding doom and horrors by a Jewish man as he tried to make sense of what his life had become almost over night.

The Passenger was a fictional account based on truth of a Jewish protagonist, Otto Silbermann’s flight and survival during the early days of the Holocaust in 1938 in Berlin, Germany. Otto had been a respected businessman and member of his community with lots of friends. As loud pounding was heard coming from the front door of his apartment, Otto escaped out the back door of his apartment. He surmised rather quickly that the Nazis had come to arrest him in their ruthless search for Jewish men. Otto was on his own. The one thing he had on his side was that he looked more Aryan than Jewish. Otto sought refuge on the trains. He crisscrossed his German homeland between Berlin and Hamburg, between Hamburg and Munich, then back to Hamburg or Berlin, all the time seeking information and help and even escape. Otto tried to cling to the ways his life had been just days before. It was hard for Otto to grasp and take hold of this nightmare his life had turned into. His new existence was haunting and unsettling.

Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz was just 23 years old when he penned this story. He left instructions with his mother to get it printed if anything happened to him. His insight and incredible pace in which he wrote this incredible story was masterful. Unfortunately, Ulrich’s story had laid buried and lost in German archives until just recently. Ulrich was ultimately able to escape from Germany to Sweden and make his way to England. When he settled in England in 1939, Ulrich was interned as a German “enemy alien”. He was transported to Australia and remained there until 1942 when he was finally allowed to come back to England. Sadly, while Ulrich made the voyage back to England, his ship was torpedoed by a German submarine. Ulrich was 27 years old when he and 362 other passengers were killed by the German submarine. The original manuscript was discovered only recently and translated.

The Passenger was fast paced, thrilling and terrifying all at the same time. The account presented by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz gave a first hand account of how terrorizing it must have felt to be Jewish during the early rise of the Nazis and the start of Jewish persecution. This book was a remarkable and gripping discovery in the history of literature. Being based on the personal experiences and truths of the times and circumstances of the author, the reader was presented with a compelling, heartfelt and even humorous account of what it was like in those early days that followed The Night of Broken Glass. I highly recommend this book.

I was fortunate enough to have won a copy of The Passenger by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz in a goodreads give away. Thank you to the publisher, Henry Holt & Co. for affording me the opportunity to read this remarkable story in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

[Ends of the Word · Rating 4 out of 5]

A while back I had read On the End of the World, a Pushkin Press collection of essays penned by Joseph Roth between the First and Second World War. What had struck me then was the fact that Roth, a down-and-out author trying to survive in a Paris hotel, could easily discern the dangers of the Nazi ideology, even while major world powers were trying to appease Hitler and ignore what was happening “on the ground”. Those essays were a stern warning that, contrary to what is sometimes stated, ordinary people could and should have realised the inhumanity of the regime but found it convenient to turn a blind eye as long as they were not directly affected. How could this happen, one might fairly ask? How could the rest of society have tolerated the regime’s systematic abuse of Jews and other minorities?

The Passenger, a novel by Ulrich A. Boschwitz, confronts precisely that question through the fictional story of a Jew on the run. Boschwitz originally wrote the book in 1938, when he was just twenty-three, as a reaction to the events of Kristallnacht. He had it published in English translation (as The Traveller) under the pseudonym John Grane. Boschwitz himself was the son of a Jewish businessman and he emigrated to Sweden with his mother in 1935 after receiving the draft order from the Wehrmacht. This was followed by stays in Norway, Luxembourg (where he was expelled by the police), and Belgium, before the family settled in England in 1939. Ulrich’s nomadic existence didn’t stop here. Despite having escaped the Nazis, he was branded an “enemy alien” by the UK Government, and interned in a camp on the Isle of Man. He was later deported to Australia. Boschwitz was finally allowed back to England in 1942, but tragically, he perished, along with 361 of his fellow travellers, when the ship he was on was torpedoed in the Atlantic.

In his last letter before the fateful voyage, Boschwitz had informed his mother that he was working on a new version of his novel and instructed her to have an experienced author implement revisions should he never make it home. To a personal tragedy was added a literary one, since the first 109 pages of his reworked version, to which Boschwitz made specific reference in his letter, have never come to light.

The Traveller was forgotten for several decades, until it was republished in its original language in 2018, under the title Der Reisende. The new edition was based on Boaschwtiz’s original German typescript, discovered in a Frankfurt archive, and interpolated editorial additions and reworkings reflecting what is known of the author’s intentions. The Passenger is an English translation of this revised version, in a translation by Philip Boehm. The Pushkin Press edition features a preface by André Aciman, and an afterword by Peter Graf.
The premise of the novel is easily summed up. It is 1938, the eve of the Second World War, and Jews in Berlin are being rounded up. Otto Silbermann is a respected German-Jewish businessman who fought for his country in the Great War and yet he is forced to escape out of the back of his own home, hoping that his wife, who is Aryan, can survive on her own. His business partners take the opportunity to fleece him, and he is turned away from his usual haunts. Nothing remains for him but to escape by embarking on train journeys criss-crossing the Reich. His “Aryan” looks allow him to lay low and observe the people around him. His almost surreal odyssey brings him face to face with a Germany that keeps going on its daily business, despite the unfolding terror and atrocities of the regime.

The Passenger has the feel of a thriller but ultimately turns into an existential, Kafkaesque exploration of how perfectly ordinary people can condone state-backed crimes. It is often breathless, feverish and exciting but this is no “entertainment”. On the contrary, The Passenger is a sobering and sometimes harrowing read, with a particularly devastating ending. It is also a timely eye-opener.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/20...

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

This German author died at age 27. At age 20, he had escaped to England, where he was held as a military prisoner. Later, he was deported to Australia but was allowed to return to England by ship in 1942. He never got there; the ship was torpedoed by the Germans and he was killed along with 361 other passengers.

As horrific as that is, I was unaware of that when I found the book. I only knew it was a re-discovered (long-thought-lost) novel about Nazi Germany - and I often read such books. It was the author's second published book (and I believe the earlier one is not available in English).

It's a remarkable work.

An afterword reveals that - to some degree - Boschwitz drew from information about his own family. That may explain his particular sensitivity to the protagonist, Otto Silbermann - a businessman perhaps in his late 50s or early 60s. It's certainly unique that such a vivid, convincing, warts-and-all description of the mental terrain of an older gentleman could come from the imagination of a man of 23 (the author's age when the book was first published).

'The Passenger' is set at a very precise time - that indefinable, strangely fluid transition period in Berlin in 1938, when the Nazis were just beginning to rise to full power. Many knew earlier than that that it was time to get out since the winds were beginning to change and new-philosophy plans were beginning to concretize. Others stayed longer than they should have, not fully accepting - not wanting to believe - that a real, personal danger would be knocking on their doors (and bashing them in).

Otto was someone like that. And from almost the beginning of the novel, time has just about run out. ~which puts Otto on the run. Non-stop. In a charged series of episodes on (and off) trains.  

The book's singular achievement is its unrelenting tension, mixed with an omnipresence of dread and paranoia. We're pretty much in Otto's head throughout, in real time; the sense of urgency is more than palpable. In the right hands, this is material that could make a heart-stopping film. 

But aside from (and more than) that, it's a precisely human depiction of a world on the precipice of a topsy-turvy existence. ~ something we just recently got more than a hint of, right here in America. And could again.

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This novel was written in 1938, before the start of WWII, but when anti-Semitism was not only on the rise in Germany, but had become openly acceptable. Sadly, the author died in 1942, but, thankfully, this book has now been rediscovered and republished. It gives the reader a real sense of what being Jewish meant in Germany at that time and the sense of hopelessness and despair that people felt, as their own country turned on them.

Our central character is Otto Silbermann. A successful businessman, he does not look stereotypically Jewish. His wife is Aryan and he has built a good life for himself. However, his world is about to be turned upside down, when he has to question his entire life. We meet him when his German business partner is headed off for a meeting and he is talking of selling his apartment to another ‘friend.’ However, are these people really his friends, or are they out to cheat him? When he hears of Jewish men being arrested and Nazi’s arrive on his doorstep, Silbermann is forced to flee.

What follows is an endless journey, as Silbermann wonders what to do and where to go. Once confident, prosperous and at home, he now suffers the petty humiliations of those who once greeting him averting their eyes, questioning his right to inhabit the spaces he was once comfortable in and trying to profit from his situation. He was a man who clung to law and order, but the rules have deserted him and he has become a man who has left it too late.

We follow Otto’s progress as he questions who he can trust. Bewildered, hounded, full of despair, indignation and incredulity, he constantly looks upon Germany with surprise. Civilisation has deserted him, as the very fabric of history shifts. He looks to the law, to government, to politicians to save him, when they are the very people planning his downfall. This is an important novel, which was written at the time events unfolded, without the benefit of hindsight. I am pleased to have had the opportunity to have read it. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.

[Mark · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I can sense how closely death is nipping at my heels. It’s just a matter of being faster”. P146

The Passenger is a relentless, urgent, foreboding read, written in the wake of the November 1938, Kristallnacht and November Pogroms when violent acts, signalling the Nazi intent, were committed against Jews. Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz penned this tale in a feverish four weeks following these events, three years after he had escaped Germany in 1935. Boschwitz made his way to England, only to be interned as an “enemy alien” on the Isle of Man with thousands of Jewish refugees, once the war broke out. Intriguingly, an early version of this book was published in England and France at the time, essentially going unnoticed, until a manuscript was uncovered in Frankfurt, in the German Exile Archive of the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek. While the manuscript had been housed in Frankfurt from 1960, its significance and subsequent edited version was not realised until 2015.

Otto Silbermann is the passenger, a Jewish German man who finds himself suddenly ‘on the run’, trying to make sense of what he has become in his own country. The story is written in the first person and Boschwitz has given voice to the incredulous occurrences of the time through the thoughts and actions of Silbermann. Set over a few days in November 1938, Silbermann spends the majority of his time on the trains, criss-crossing Germany in an effort to work out what to do and to comprehend what he has become.

“The fact is that I have already emigrated … to the Deutsche Reichsbahn. i am no longer in Germany. I am in trains that run through Germany. That’s a big difference.” P148

Silbermann’s thoughts read like their own narrative and much of what he is thinking concerns the fact that he has become an enemy for no reason, that those who were his friends, colleagues are no more, or are looking at him differently. Racial identity becomes paramount and Silbermann is only able to travel on the trains because he looks Aryan as opposed to Jewish.

“Whatever I’ve done in the past, he thought, looks different today than it did back then, because now my humanity is called into question, because I am a Jew”. P203

There is something ultimately hopeless in this sobering read, especially as in 2024, I know the ending, I know what happened, and to read this as the darkness was descending on Europe, not even 100 years ago, makes for an incredulous and frankly, quite unbelievable and critically important read.

However, this is not just a story about Otto Silbermann and the incredible plight of the Jews. It is about the German people, those who were indifferent, those who were complicit, those who were opportunistic, those who were sympathetic. This is a tale of humanity at its rawest and worst.

Incidentally, Boschwitz, was exiled to Australia to a prison camp, only to be a passenger on the MV Abosso when it was torpedoed by a German submarine as it was making its way back to England in 1942.

This book needs to be read widely. 5 stars.

[Bjorn · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's all locker room talk until...
Your friends will stick by you until...
You're almost a proper German until...
Present company obviously excepted until...
That lot are just harmless thugs nobody takes seriously until...
Your money's good until...
Your vote counts until...
You're free to travel anywhere you want until...
Other countries are happy to welcome you until...
You can be an individual on your own merits until...
Upstanding citizens will refuse to be silent until...
The laws still apply to you until...
Your service to your country counts until...
Concentration camps are just prisons until...

Written in a few weeks after Kristallnacht. Otto Silbermann dodges the SA as they bust down his door and gets out of Berlin with a briefcase full of money after selling his company for scrap. Spends days travelling back and forth on the train, trying to figure out where he can go when suddenly everything goes from until to NOW. Feverish, panicked, clear-eyed, ridiculously modern in its feel. I'm told only commies who'd call anyone a Nazi just because they speak their mind about The Others would draw comparisons between 1930s Germany and today's political climate, so just to be clear, it's obviously, completely irrelevant to anything.

Until it's not.

[George K. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Το βιβλίο αυτό, καθώς επίσης ο νεαρός συγγραφέας του, κρύβουν μια πολύ ενδιαφέρουσα ιστορία από πίσω, που θα ενθουσίαζε τον κάθε ιστορικό μελετητή. Όμως εγώ θα ήθελα να γράψω για το βιβλίο αυτό καθαυτό, και όχι για την απίστευτη ιστορία που κρύβεται πίσω από την έκδοσή του. Λοιπόν, πρόκειται για ένα πραγματικά εξαιρετικό μυθιστόρημα, για ένα πολύ σημαντικό χρονικό που αναδεικνύει με τον πιο ρεαλιστικό και ωμό τρόπο το πογκρόμ που έζησαν οι Εβραίοι κατά τη διαβόητη Νύχτα των Κρυστάλλων, που ήταν ένα προοίμιο για το Ολοκαύτωμα.

Πρωταγωνιστής της ιστορίας είναι ο επιτυχημένος Εβραίος επιχειρηματίας Ότο Ζίλμπερμαν, ένας κανονικός Γερμανός πολίτης με δικαιώματα και υποχρεώσεις, ο οποίος πολέμησε και στον Μεγάλο Πόλεμο και κατάφερε να γίνει ένα διακεκριμένο μέλος της Γερμανικής κοινωνίας. Όμως, μια μέρα, ουσιαστικά χάνει όλα τα προνόμιά του και αναγκάζεται να αφήσει το σπίτι και την εργασία του, ώστε να διαφύγει στο εξωτερικό και να γλιτώσει τον εγκλεισμό του σε στρατόπεδο συγκέντρωσης. Όμως αποτυγχάνει και βρίσκει σαν καταφύγιο τα τρένα, ταξιδεύοντας από πόλη σε πόλη, περνώντας τις μέρες του σε βαγόνια, αποβάθρες, σταθμούς, εστιατόρια και ξενώνες, γνωρίζοντας κάθε είδους ανθρώπους στις συγκλονιστικές στιγμές της ατέρμονης φυγής του, όντας τουλάχιστον κάπως τυχερός που η εξωτερική του εμφάνιση δεν θύμιζε Εβραίο...

Ο συγγραφέας, αν και έγραψε το βιβλίο όταν ήταν μόλις εικοσιτριών ετών, δείχνει μεγάλη ωριμότητα στη γραφή και τον τρόπο παρουσίασης της ιστορίας και των χαρακτήρων του, καταφέρνοντας με την απλή και άμεση γραφή του να μεταφέρει το κλίμα της εποχής και να κάνει τους αναγνώστες ένα με την αγωνία και τον φόβο του πρωταγωνιστή. Ειλικρινά σας λέω, με μεγάλη δυσκολία άφηνα το βιβλίο κάτω, για να κάνω άλλα πράγματα, τόσο πολύ υποβλητικό, εθιστικό και αγωνιώδες μου φάνηκε. Και τώρα που το τελείωσα, νιώθω ένα κενό, γιατί ήταν ένα πολύ καλό βιβλίο που τελείωσε γρήγορα, αλλά και γιατί αυτά που έζησε ο πρωταγωνιστής, ήταν πράγματα που κάποτε έζησαν εκατομμύρια άνθρωποι, και που ακόμα και σήμερα ζουν ακόμα περισσότεροι, σε διάφορες γωνιές της Γης. Όπως και να'χει, είναι σίγουρα ένα από τα καλύτερα βιβλία αυτής της δύσκολης ιστορικής περιόδου που έτυχε να διαβάσω, και το προτείνω με κλειστά μάτια.

Υ.Γ. Άψογη η έκδοση του Κλειδάριθμου, με πολύ προσεγμένη μετάφραση και πραγματικά πολύ ωραίο εξώφυλλο.

[Kuszma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Páratlan könyv, nem is elsősorban irodalmi erényei miatt, hanem mert olyan lelkiállapotot ragad meg, amivel a (tágan értelmezett) holokausztirodalomban még nem találkoztam. Hőse Silbermann, a jómódú zsidó kereskedő, aki egyik pillanatban még cége élén pörgeti a német gazdaságot, a másikban meg jogfosztottan bolyong, keresve a kiutat a Harmadik Birodalomból. Boschwitz nem az erőszak regényét akarja megírni, hanem a lassú folyamatot, ahogy a rendszer elszívja a levegőt áldozata elől. Tulajdonképpen akár azt is mondhatnánk, hogy Silbermann-nal nem történik semmi különös. Nem verik meg, konkrétan nem adnak ki ellene letartóztatási parancsot – egyszerűen éreztetik vele, hogy akár meg is tehetnék mindezt. Felkeltik benne a menekülés ösztönét, arra késztetik, hogy maradék vagyonával (egy aktatáskányi márkával) elkezdjen keresztül-kasul vonatozni Germánián, Berlinből Hamburgba, Hamburgból Aachenbe, Aachenből Drezdába megy, de sehol sincs számára nyugalom. Huszonkettes csapdája: nem látják szívesen, azt akarják, hogy szívódon fel, de közben nem eresztik, rácsukják a kalitka ajtaját. És a legszörnyűbb az egészben nem a társadalom ellenségessége, hanem az ellenség megfoghatatlansága. A környezet ugyanis konkrétan nem viszonyul sehogy Silbermannhoz, leginkább igyekszik láthatatlannak tekinteni. Nem akarja „bántani”, csak annyit akar, hogy ne traktálja őt a kínjaival, ne akarjon belőle empátiát kicsiholni, és egyáltalán: bolonduljon meg csendben, tapintatosan. Ami Silbermann életére tör, az a „törvény” nevű testetlen kafkai entitás, ami megközelíthetetlen, és akivel lehetetlen perbe szállni. Hisz kivel is perlekednénk? A bürokratával? De hisz ő nem tehet semmiről, csak végrehajt, szemernyi rosszindulat nélkül. Mint ahogy a „népben” sincs rosszindulat – egyszerűen csak örül neki, hogy per pillanat nem neki a rossz, hanem másnak. A zsidónak.

Alighanem tényleg úgy van, hogy akit el akarnak veszejteni, annak először nem a testét semmisítik meg, hanem a helyét a világban.

[Peter · Rating 3 out of 5]

"What do you think?" steht über dem Eingabefeld meiner Rezension, die tatsächlich vielmehr der Rückblick auf mein persönliches Lese- bzw. im Falle des Audiobuches Hörerlebnis ist. Ja, was denke ich? Ich denke, dass es dieser Roman verdient hat nach so langer Zeit dem breiten Publikum zugänglich gemacht zu werden. Und vielleicht verleiht der zeitliche Abstand diesem Text zusätzliche Kraft. Die Generation der Miterlebten ist größtenteils von uns gegangen, selbst meine Eltern haben Nationalsozialismus und Krieg nur aus der Sicht von Kindern erlebt. In "Der Reisende" erlebt der Lesen von heute nach, wie unseren jüdischen Mitbürgern der Boden unter den Füßen weggezogen wurde. Dabei beschränkt sich Boschwitz auf die letzte Phase einer langen Reihe von Einschränkungen, Kränkungen und Benachteiligungen, die letztendlich zum Verlust der Lebensgrundlage, des Lebenswillens und der Freiheit führt. Dieses Miterleben belastet und soll es auch tun. Es sind die kleinen alltäglichen Akte des Unrechts, die vor dem überwältigenden Verbrechen der Shoah, verblassen, die aber das Leben vieler bestimmten und vergällten.

Warum aber nur drei Sterne? In Anerkennung, dass dies gute und wichtige Literatur ist, gelang es dem Text nicht ganz zu mir durchzudringen und mich bleibend zu erschüttern, wie etwa die Bücher von Tadeusz Borowski. Und auch die Person des reichen jüdischen Kaufmanns Otto Silbermann ist mir zu stereotyp und fern meiner Lebens- und Gefühlswelt. Somit ist meine Einschätzung (rating) genau die Antwort auf die eingangs gestellte Frage nach meinen individuellen Gedanken: "What do YOU think?"

[Dmitrijus Andrušanecas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Atrastoji ULRICH ALEXANDER BOSCHWITZ istorija apie KELEIVĮ. Patvirtina ir užantspauduoja to laikmečio tragedijas, apnuogina žmogiškumo sampratą, atliepia plonytės ribos egzistavimą tarp sveiko ir pamesto proto.

„Ar aš iš viso kada nors ištrūksiu iš Vokietijos?“

Pasaulis ant nelaimės slenksčio. Mūsų kelionės gidas – Otas Zilbermanas, žydas. Turintis šeimą, draugų, pasiturintis ir štai tuoj tuoj užbaigs vieną kitą sandorį. Deja, pasibeldžia į duris. Ir tą akimirką skaitytojas pastebi išgąstį ir baimę.

Daugeliui žinoma, kaip jautėsi žydų tauta minimu laikmečiu – girdėta, skaityta, matyta. Kėliau sau ir veikėjams nemažai klausimų, tačiau daugelį jų reziumavo viena mintis. Žydai niekada anuomet nežinojo to, ką mes žinome dabar. Jie tikėjo, kad to neįvyks. Jie tikėjo, kad tai bus trumpam. Jie tikėjo, kad tai, ką paliko, tą ir suras. Jie tikėjo, kad galės grįžti ten, kur užbaigė. Ir tai, kad jie tikėjo, skaitant pasirodė naivu. Skirtumas tas, kad jie tuomet nežinojo to, ką žinau šiuo metu aš. Esant veidu į situaciją esamuoju laiku, tu tikrai nežinai jos baigties ateityje. Jiems buvo belikę tik tikėti.

Tikėjimas, kad vis dar turi šeimą, turtą, save. Šeimos sąjunga jėga naikinama, drąskoma. Kai paties tavo šeimos nariai tampa tavo pačios neuorzės įkaitais – sūnus nesistengia, žmona pabėga, giminėms tu keli nerimą, draugai mato tik tavo nosį, o visi kiti tikisi kitokios pavardės.

„Savo priešams tampi bizniu, o draugams – pavojumi.“

Turtas grobstomas, vogiamas, daužomas ir traiškomas. Otas skiria daug dėmesio papuošalams, sidabrui, namams, o ypač lagaminui. Būtent pastarasis kūrinyje tampa simboliu – gerovė (jos turinys tave gali išgelbėti), našta (sunku nešti, bėgti, slėptis), vertybės (be pinigų esi niekas, neišgyvensi) ir pan. Matyt, tai yra jo bilietas į laisvę, tuo pačiu ir nuolatinis galvos skausmas bei pagrindinė priežastis jo laukiančiam atoveiksmiui.

Kupė. Šioje istorijoje tai yra pokalbių šou scena. Vieta, kurioje kalbamasi, klausomasi, bijoma ir slepiamasi. Tuomet, kai nepažįstami – neidentifikuotas pavojus arba paguodos teikėjai.

„– Galime keliauti <..>, kad pabėgtum nuo ramybės. Bet galima keliauti, kad rastum ramybę.“

Savo paties praradimai. Vengi teisėsaugos institucijų, kuriomis netiki ir nepasitiki. Vengi savo pačios „rūšies“, nenorėdamas su jais asocijuotis. Vengi visų aplinkui, nes/kai paranojinė būsena sukūria iliuziją, kad likusieji – vagys, apgavikai, išdavikai. Vengi savęs paties, nes/kai „protas nori iš manęs, kad nusižudyčiau. Bet aš noriu gyventi!“.

Minint teisėsaugą. Pasakojime yra vieta, kuri, matyt, buvo šio kūrinio kulminacija. Nesinori tikėti, kad visi policininkai buvo blogi. Nemaža dalis jų buvo įstatymų ir padėties įkaitais, priversti taip egltis vardant to, kad patys ir jų brangiosios šeimos tokioje pavojingoje padėtyje neliktų alkani, nubausti, nužudyti. Iki pat šios akimirkos labiausiai mintyse įstrigusi vieta, kuri buvo rėkte išrėkta policininko:
„ – Policija yra ne Jums!“.
Tai kam tuomet?

Liaupsinu, kaip nuostabiai autoriui pavyko perteikti pagrindinio veikėjaus nuotaiką ir viso kūrinio atmosferą. Kaip palaipsniui tekste mėto sakinius, nardo tarp jų, žaidžia įvairiomis formuluotėmis, kurios suteikia vis kitokį sąskambį, reikšmę, abejonę, ryžtą, „sumėto“ ir patį Otą. Toks rašymo stilius labai patinka. Ypač, kai reikia panirti į stiprių emocijų šaltinį, išbandyti kraštutinumus. Puikiai!

Autentiškumas. Nepaprastas grožinis kūrinys, kuris turi vertę, suteikia žinių. Nežinojau, jog tuomet buvo teikiama santuokos paskola. Ir neteko žinoti, jog svetimšaliams (ne berliniečiams) Berlyne dirbti buvo draudžiama. Be šių pastebėjimų verta pagirti ir knygos vertimą. Kokie įdomiai parinkti žodžiai išbarstyti po visą knygą: „perveikė“, „brangintiną“, „žavėtina“, „įkaltinusi“, „užčiupti“. Praplėtė žodyną. Tikiuosi bus naudotini.

Rekomenduoju visiems, kam patinka istorinės temos, karinė padėtis, žydų tematika, žmogiškumas. Skaityti verta, tai daug ką primenanti ir naujai papasakojanti istorija. Neužmirštama knyga.

[8stitches 9lives · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Passenger has been hailed as a remarkable literary discovery, a lost novel of heart-stopping intensity and harrowing absurdity about flight and persecution in 1930s Germany. Don't let the innocuous, almost generic title fool you, this is a story that is both poignant and compelling. Berlin, November 1938. Jewish shops have been ransacked and looted, synagogues destroyed. As stormtroopers pound on his door, Otto Silbermann, a respected businessman who fought for Germany in the Great War, is forced to sneak out the back of his own home as a result of the November pogroms. His relatives and friends have been arrested or have disappeared. Turned away from establishments he had long patronised, and fearful of being exposed as a Jew despite his Aryan looks, he boards a train. And then another. And another - until his flight becomes a frantic odyssey across Germany, as he searches first for information, then for help, and finally for escape. He himself tries to remain invisible, takes train by train, aimlessly travels across the country with nowhere to go and a briefcase full of money that he was able to save from the henchmen of the Nazi regime. At first, he still thinks he can flee abroad. However, his attempt to illegally cross the border fails.

In the middle of a state of emergency, he observes the indifference of the masses, the pity of a few. And also his own fear. His travels on the Deutsche Reichsbahn bring him face-to-face with waiters and conductors, officials and fellow outcasts, seductive women and vicious thieves, a few of whom disapprove of the regime while the rest embrace it wholeheartedly. Clinging to his existence as it was just days before, Silbermann refuses to believe what is happening even as he is beset by opportunists, betrayed by associates, and bereft of family, friends, and fortune. As his world collapses around him, he is forced to concede that his nightmare is all too real. This is a riveting and palpably tense fact meets fiction read with a very real and prominent sense of foreboding underpinning the narrative. An evocative, richly detailed and absorbing story of the horrors of Kristallnacht complete with an oppressive and desperately claustrophobic atmosphere and a surprising dose of sardonicism. The fear, displacement and sheer terror Jews experienced is felt on every single page and results in a deeply moving, rapid-fire paced novel. One of the most powerful representations of the hell of Jewish life under Nazi rule and a compulsive character study, this is a taut, indelible and glorious work of fiction.

[Thomas Stroemquist · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great, if nightmarish read.

Berlin, 1938. The Jewish businessman Otto Silbermann finds he left it too late to flee the persecution, hoping against hope that the signs of what is to come surely be countered by common sense, logic and empathy. Despite the "J" already stamped on his passport, he's able to move around 'freely' on account of not 'looking Jewish' (even though the tides of the times are ever present wherever he moves) - until the authorities' foot men bangs at his door.

Silbermann finds himself at the mercy of fate - his former business partners turn on him, taking his misfortune as an opportunity to enrich themselves, his family shuns him, everyone he meets a potential informer, a party official or a lackey. He does find kindness, empathy and resistors, but he's never in a position to trust anyone anymore. Taking to the trains in Germany, he becomes 'the passenger'.

Quite Kafkaesque, the surreal circumstances he finds himself in all but completely wears him down in a matter of days and his struggles are painful to follow.

Written by a 23-year-old Boschwitz in a matter of a few weeks following Kristallnacht in Germany (which he had fled at the time) this is a surprisingly coherent and good reading experience. The careful editing and translation from German does not diminish that at all in my opinion. Neither does the fact that he was well underway of re-editing the work in its entirety at the time of his death in 1942, when the boat he was on from South Africa bound for Liverpool, England was torpedoed by a German submarine.

Highly recommended.

[Morgan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The history of the author and how this book came to be is almost as fascinating as the book itself.

Stress, disquiet and anxiety pour off the pages as mild mannered German Jewish businessman Otto Silbermann realizes his life is in imminent danger from the Nazi forces in his homeland.

This is pre-WWII Berlin, Germany when Otto’s home is invaded and he manages to escape, but now he is on the run. While Otto physically could pass as Aryan he is in no less danger due to his name and the “J” stamped in his passport.

We are privy to Otto’s conversations with other travelers, some of which are quite disconcerting, others not so much, and his musings as he scrambles frantically from train to train wondering:
Where to turn to next? Where to go? Is there anyone to help? Is it better to travel first class or third class? He has to appear unobtrusive. What options are open to him, if any?
Is there a border he could safely cross? Who knows? Establishments that used to welcome him are no longer accepting. Sleeping in seedy boarding houses is not helping his anxiety!

In any case how could this be happening to a law abiding German citizen in his own country? Surely this is an outrage.

In the end it is the loss of his briefcase with all his money that is the last straw that unravels Otto. His options now appear to be nil! But at least he has seen Germany from end to end.

This is the frenzied journey of a man trapped in his own country with no way out.

The author wrote this story in 1938. He died in 1942, age 27.

[Bob Brinkmeyer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Boschwitz’s rediscovered novel The Passenger was written hastily, immediately after the rampages of Kristallnacht in November 1938. Boschwitz was twenty-three, a Jew originally from Germany who was then living in Paris. Following the travails (and travels) of Otto Silbermann, a prosperous Jewish businessman who must flee his apartment when the stormtroopers arrive, the novel captures in frightening detail the reign of terror facing Jews in post-Kristallnacht Germany.

Otto’s struggles to survive after his escape push toward and into the nightmarish, at times frighteningly realistic, at times even more frighteningly Kafkaesque. While he has some money and a few friends (but not all of them want to hear from him), he’s essentially alone, not being able to trust anyone (except his non-Jewish wife who is in a distant city and powerless to help) and coming under suspicion everywhere he goes. To the Nazis and their sympathizers, as Otto comes to see, he has become “a swear word on two legs.” At one point, he observes that while he is still free (that is, not under arrest), he is in fact a prisoner, since “for a Jew the entire Reich is one big concentration camp.” He struggles to understand and accept what has happened to him (and other Jews) and to Germany. “Who could have imagined anything like it?” he thinks. “In the middle of Europe, in the twentieth century?”

Otto’s only refuge is trains. He jumps on board one after another, occasionally stopping off in a city to take stock of his situation but rarely staying for long. Although he knows it’s not true (the secret police are everywhere), he takes comfort in the thought that he’s safe when he is motion. And, he adds, in perhaps the most piercing acknowledgement of the absurdity of his situation, that for all his troubles at least he’ll get to see a lot of Germany on his train trips. Nonetheless, he knows all is lost, that train travel is only a momentary refuge and that on a deeper level signifies his total ungrounding from his previous life. “The inner security is now gone, and my life is nothing but a series of accidents—I’m completely at the mercy of chance,” he observes. “It’s almost as though the subject has become the object.”

Given Boschwitz’s youth and the speed at which he composed the novel, it’s not surprising that The Passenger is not completely polished. But it’s a powerful read nonetheless, an utterly haunting portrayal of the stupefying madness into which Germany fell under the sway of the Nazis and an even more haunting portrayal of the suffering inflicted upon German Jews before the death camps opened their gates.

[Stephen · Rating 4 out of 5]

interesting republication of a novel based in Nazi Germany just before the war as a Jewish businessman trying to leave the country but ends up travelling around on several trains but an interesting insight into being Jewish in Nazi Germany

[Moira Macfarlane · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Waarheen, dacht hij bang. Waarheen? Ik lijk wel gek, ik had met Löwenstein mee moeten gaan. Maar ik ben het reizen zo zat!
[...]
Hoe moet ik het allemaal voor elkaar krijgen, dacht hij wanhopig. Mijn verstand zegt dat ik zelfmoord moet plegen. Maar ik wil leven! Ondanks alles wil ik leven! Daar heb je al je verstand voor nodig, maar dat kan het niet aan, het keert zich tegen me. Het ontkent mijn bestaan. Wat moet ik er dan mee? Omdat ik het begrijp, dacht hij ongelukkig, daarom word ik wanhopig. Ach, begreep ik het maar verkeerd! Dat kan helaas niet meer. Behalve de lijst van mijn verliezen bezit ik niets meer, echt helemaal niets."

De reiziger is een aangrijpende roman over een joodse man, Otto Silbermann, die na de verschrikkelijke gebeurtenissen tussen 7 en 13 november in 1938 weet te ontsnappen aan de pogroms van de nazi's. Met een koffer vol geld komt hij op straat te staan, maar hij kan geen kant op. Al zijn familieleden en vrienden zijn al gearresteerd of verdwenen. Silbermann probeert onzichtbaar te blijven, neemt trein na trein, in het midden van de noodtoestand. Hij vlucht van stad naar stad om aan zijn belagers te ontsnappen - van Berlijn naar Hamburg naar Dortmund naar Aken - en verblijft dagenlang in treinen, op perrons, in restaurants. Hij ontmoet vluchtelingen en nazi's, goede en slechte mensen. Hij observeert de onverschilligheid van de menigte, de compassie van enkelen. En ook zijn eigen angst.

Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz (1915-1942) werd geboren in Berlijn, zijn manuscript van De reiziger lag jarenlang in het Deutsche Exilarchiv van de Deutsche Nationalbibliothek in Frankfurt en verscheen pas in 2018 in Duitsland met Peter Graf als redacteur (van de uitgeverij Das Kulturelle Gedächtnis).

Ik vond het een erg indringend, me de ademruimte benemend boek, je kruipt in het hoofd van Otto Silbermann en voelt de verloren strijd die hij voert, zijn wanhoop en onmacht toenemen.

[Bookguide · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book has had a chequered history. There are no reviews in English, yet it appeared in 1939. Where did it disappear to? First published in English in England in 1939 under the pseudonym John Grane with the title The Man Who Took Trains, it was published in the USA as The Fugitive in 1940 and in French in 1945 as Le fugitif (thanks to Nicolas for correcting my rusty French). None of these have been listed on Goodreads to date (as of October 2018). This was an extraordinary account, available in English before the war, of the persecution of the Jews, up until Kristallnacht. It was out of print for many years, but has recently been rediscovered and re-edited in German as Der Reisende (The Traveller), to critical acclaim, and has now been translated into Dutch as De Reiziger. I shall try to get hold of a copy as it sounds interesting, with a Kafkaesque slant. Undoubtedly it will be retranslated into English in due course, but sometimes reading Dutch gives you a head start. Googling Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz will produce lots of results in German. Dig a little deeper and you’ll find this excellent Australian article about his life, death and the trials and tribulations of this book in particular.

[Betsy Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Otto Silbermann, with his Aryan nose but his Jewish last name is on the run. Although he's just been excoriated and demeaned by his Nazi business partner, he managed to get some of his money back. However he's stuck:

Mulling over his situation, he wondered what am I supposed to do now? Because they're still going after Jews. I can't stay a single night in my apartment—not with forty-one thousand marks!

We have to leave Germany, but no place will let us in I have enough money to start a new life, but how to get it out of the country? I don't have the nerve to try to smuggle it across. Should I stay or go? What to do?

Should I risk ten years in prison for a currency offense? But what other choice is there? Without money I'd starve out there. Every road leads to ruin, every single one. How am I supposed to fight against the state?

. . .

Other people were smarter. Other people are always smarter! If I'd realized in time what was going on, I could have saved my money. But everyone was constantly reassuring me. Becker [business partner] more than anybody. And fool that I am, I let myself be reassured. . . .

Maybe things aren't half so bad, and the whole business is one big psychosis. But no, I should finally acknowledge the reality of the situation: things are going to get worse—much, much worse! (80-81)

It's 1938 and Otto Silbermann, a persnickety neurotic, could not be less suited to running for his life.

Author Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz (1915-1942) wrote and published an earlier version of The Passenger when he was only 23, and he died before he could get a revised edition to his publisher. At first the writing seemed to me to have some of the clumsiness of a young writer—overwriting, heavy-handed dialogue, redundancy—but as my anxiety grew (more on that in a second) so did the writing grow on me and I stopped judging.

The substance, largely Silbermann's inner ever-changing monologue, bone-chillingly puts the reader into the frenzied flight of a German Jew running for his/her life. (And there are so many similarities between Nazi tactics of blaming their victims and today's politics that essentially claim black is white, that you don't have to be Jewish to shudder.)

The book includes a Foreword and an Afterword that enhance this tale with true history—of the author, the book, and the times—and contributed to the nervous stomach I felt every time I began to read. I could not separate myself from Otto Silbermann and my fear was so visceral that I could only stand reading in short spurts. By the second to last chapter, I was so identified with him and his frantic indecision that I lurched to the computer to write this sentence, then noticed that my ceiling-high dracaena's support stick was leaning precariously to the right, so I uprighted it, thought I should wash the plant and water all the plants, but I was so hungry I was feeling light-headed so maybe I should eat first, but really I wanted to type this sentence, so that's what I'm doing and maybe once I've hit the period, I'll eat—yes, that's it, I'll eat. But I really need to pee, and who is that I hear talking outside my window? I can't find him. He must be on a lower floor terrace. I must pee and eat and water the plants. Damn that man, why can't he keep his voice down? — This is how Silbermann negotiates this entire story.

Like Boschwitz, I was not raised in the religion or culture, but my face screams "Jew," hence I shuddered in my bone marrow for the entire length of this book and, after each reading session, had to consciously decompress and tap into my gratitude that I live in the most diverse city in the world surrounded by people who look like me. . . . If they come for me, they'll have to come for all of NYC.

[Greg · Rating 5 out of 5]

The plots behind “rediscovered” or “lost” novels sometimes have to compete with the stories about the authors themselves. Such has been the case for me in recent years with John Kennedy Toole, Hans Fallada, Ernst Haffner, and most recently, John Okada. Now I can add Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz to this both tragic and hopeful list. The intensity of his novel, seen over a few days completely through the eyes of successful Jewish businessman Otto Silbermann, begins with the evening of Kristallnacht through his descent into madness.

I feel like I have a pretty good understanding of the concept and history of Gleichschaltung, but as with all historical knowledge, it’s often a novel, or stories of individual fates seen from a different angle before one "gets" it. One sees pivotal events like Kristallnacht through the lens of history—we know how groups were affected, but we don’t know much about individuals. But Silbermann’s story, with an intensity heightened by the reader’s knowledge—which is actually more than Silbermann would ever suspect about his eventual fate—forced me to take reading breaks. While he has lots of money, all he can do is travel on trains while he bides his time. The people he fleetingly meets along the way provide momentary escapes and occasional terror. The people he counted on turn their backs or exploit his situation. The only feeling I can compare it to was first seeing Jan Němec’s film, Diamonds of the Night, a story that begins with two teenagers fleeing Nazis from a train and never lets up until the predictable conclusion. Utter dread made into compelling, uncomfortable art.

I’m not going to go into the book or author much more than that. This is one to discover for oneself. It is a view of a historical episode, but like so much in life these days, I couldn’t help but wonder if it might be a glimpse of the future. It certainly would be for many Americans who fear “the other.” Which, perhaps too simply, can be boiled down to a lack of common decency. Translated systematically into public policy, it poisons a society down to its deepest roots. We saw it then. We see it now in the U.S. and other countries around the world.

But the most fearful and lasting lesson of this book is one that’s easily missed, one that should provide little comfort today. Ultimately, even though he apparently lived through Hitler’s assumption of power, was aware of the existence of concentration camps, had a “J” stamped into his passport, and likely witnessed many forms of discrimination, Silbermann somehow lived for five years and felt, right up to the night of Kristallnacht, that events would not consume him. That, however is still not the lesson. It’s about the speed with which people turned their backs and accepted the new reality they lived under, whether they were previous supporters or not. If they were not among the persecuted, it did not affect them, at least not in their public activities. Easier to turn one’s back, suppress any expression of decency, and follow the new rules. That's not reprehensible, it's the norm. Boschwitz’s novel demonstrates this quite clearly.

[Jeroen Schwartz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Je hebt oudere boeken die een beetje worden afgestoft of 'herontdekt', maar de redding van deze vergeten roman is een regelrechte sensatie. Het verhaal, hoe eenvoudig ook, is zo dwingend geschreven dat het je bijna elke bladzijde boos of verdrietig maakt en anders wel doet opveren om een gave, rake zin.

Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz schreef De reiziger in 1938, meteen na de Kristallnacht, als 23-jarige zoon van een Joodse zakenman. Het boek verscheen toen al wel in Engeland en Amerika en later nog in Frankrijk maar pas dit jaar in de originele taal in Duitsland, en nu voor ’t eerst in ’t Nederlands. Geen dag te vroeg voor mijn gevoel, want hoewel tachtig jaar oud is ’t boek levensecht en stilistisch fris, en het overstijgt de tijdgeest.

De reiziger is de Joodse ondernemer Otto Silbermann die noodgedwongen vlucht, daags na de Kristallnacht. De Joodse gemeenschap in Duitsland wordt structureel aangevallen, te leven lijkt Silbermann verboden. Als een dier dat wordt gekooid - zonder voer. Zijn kennissen negeren zijn uitgestoken hand, letterlijk, ze durven niet meer. ,,Het is niet mijn schuld'', zeggen ze verontschuldigend. Het is te riskant.

Silbermann is dan hij alleen nog maar onderweg, van kroeg naar station en de straat, met een aktetas vol geld – angstig en achterdochtig. Wie is nog te vertrouwen, wie niet? Wie heult opeens mee, wie is opgehitst? De reiziger raakt alles kwijt: zijn kapitaal, zijn vrienden, zíjn Duitsland.

Ik was huiverig te lachen om de zelfspot en dit boek spannend te noemen om de duistere inhoud - de Jodenhaat -, maar de dialogen en monologue intérieur zijn zo snerpend dat ze je de adem benemen.

Zó buitengesloten worden, gepest en gediscrimineerd, in eigen land: dat maakt dit semi-autobiografische boek choquerend. Eerst ben je net als hoofdpersoon verwonderd, ontregeld. Algauw zijn de wanhoop en verbittering voelbaar en is het of de mensen zichzelf niet meer zijn. Dat stemt triest, de ‘redding’ van dit boek niet.

Na de Tweede Wereldoorlog is wel vergeefs geprobeerd een uitgever te vinden in Duitsland. Vermoedelijk waagde niemand zich eraan: ‘te gevoelig’. Boschwitz was toen al dood: de nazi ’s vermoorden hem op 27-jarige leeftijd, in 1942, bij een vluchtpoging. Het zou nog jaren duren voordat iemand de gruweldaden en stemming eind 1938 in Duitsland zou documenteren zoals hij ze literair al vóór de oorlog had verwoord.

[Edvinas Gliebus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tai knyga, supurtanti iki sielos gelmiu. Vardan istorinio teisingumo sios knygos tiesiog negalima pamirsti.

Stai tokia literatura as laikau sedevru. 25 metu vaikinas sukure nestigmatiziuota, neromantiskai nuslifuota ir nenuvalkiota zydiskos (zmogiskos) tragedijos situacija.

Herojus, jo mintys, veiksmai nepriespastatomi kaip nepriekaistingos asmenybes zlugimas susidurus su Treciojo Reicho nacistine demoniska realybe: jis taip pat netobulas, turintis neadekvaciu minciu, kaltinimu, klaidingu poelgiu. Tipazas, kuris pavergia savo zmogiskumu, savo trapumu, "kiausu neturejimu" ir negebejimu situacijos spresti kaip "amerikietiskas" tobulas herojus.
Dristu prisipazinti, kad daugelyje situaciju, manau, buciau galejes pasielgti labai panasiai. Iseiti is kelio zmogui, kuris buvo iprates visa daryti pagal taisykles, iprocius, numatytus ejimus, yra savasties praradimo tragedija, ne ka mazesne, nei isoriniai ivykiai. Ta vidine priestara, deginanti, plesanti, ir niekaip negalinti nuslobti itikino herojaus kancia esant gilia, tikra.

Didelis pliusas Baltu Lanku leidyklai: vertimas puikus, keletas redakciniu klaidu nedrasko akiu, spauda puikios kokybes.

Rekomenduoju: tiems, kas nebijo pazvelgti nevilciai i akis.
Nerekomenduoju: kas abejingi zmogiskumui ir mano, kad kitu gyvenimai ju neliecia.