Powerful, moving, and successful by whatever measure you choose. The book purports to be the story of an American woman in Nazi Germany. It is that, but Mildred Harnack (the woman to whom the sub-title alludes) is absent from the pages of the book more than she is present. That is most definitely not a flaw: Large chunks of information about her has been lost to history, some of it deliberately discarded in anger. But Donner, who is related to Harnack, does a masterful job of weaving what is known into a rich, revealing, and surprisingly suspenseful picture of life in Nazi Germany.
"All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days" (the title comes from a poem by Goethe) reads like a novel. A quite creative novel, in fact. Mildred Harnack's story is told in the present tense which has (at least to me it did) the effect of making the events being described more vivid. Donner artfully mixes short chapters with somewhat longer ones, close-ups involving Mildred and her husband/co-conspirator Arvid with scenes that step back and take in the broader milieu. This choice may have been a result of necessity, given the lack of available information on Mili, but Donner definitely makes a virtue of this necessity. We move from seamlessly family mattes and pregnancies to secret meetings, sinister block wardens, Soviet spies, we become acutely aware of what is going on around the characters -- in the streets, the building down the block, the towns and villages. ("Mildred sees swastikas on cigarette packages, coffee cans, cake pans. Every day, Nazi propaganda disseminates misinformation and false promises. Every day, Hitler wins more German hearts and minds.") We see the skies darken, the threats growing larger and larger.
We meet a lot of heroes -- some of whom we've seen before (Dietrich Bonhoffer, for example), and many more whom we have not. They are ordinary people, many of them quite young, some more cautious than others. I was struck by the incredible bravery of the people who resisted the Nazi regime; the extraordinary effort it took to resist, not only in terms of the risk involved but also because the most quotidian supplies were hard to find; the shockingly arrogant blindness of leaders in the US, England, and Russia to what Hitler was planning, no matter how many times they were warned (Ambassador Wilson believes that the American press is “Jewish controlled” and praises Hitler as “the man who has pulled his people from moral and economic despair.”; the inhuman cruelty of Nazi officials and apparatchiks, which never ceases to shock and astonish; the complicated nature of Mildred's relationship with her family who can't understand why she would go back to Germany ( [Mildred is] “slightly off.” Harriette [her mother] is studying her too. The odd rigidity, the severity in her facial expressions—it all adds up: Nazi. Harriette hasn’t the slightest idea how to handle the situation, and her husband isn’t much help. Fred keeps telling Mili, in the stern voice he reserves for disciplining their children, Don’t go back to Germany. Stay with us.). And so much more.
Some examples of how well Donner captures the reality on the ground with the kind of details that conventional history books overlook and that express so much:
Stores no longer sell shaving cream, razors, or cigars. Toilet paper is no longer white—it’s brown, and is called “unity paper.” Louise Heath shares her husband’s disdain for it; she doesn’t know how a whole family can survive on “one roll of toilet paper (more like sandpaper) for our family every 10 days.” Soap has a new name too, “unity soap.” Families are allowed a single bar a month, which “was supposed to suffice for face washing, dish washing, bathing and all laundering.” Groceries are also strictly rationed. One-pot Sundays are instituted. German women are instructed to fill a pot with old vegetables and meat scraps for the Sunday meal and calculate how much money they save. When a Nazi Party worker bangs on their doors, they must deposit this money in a can [or else]... Meanwhile, some stores in Berlin display pyramids of canned goods that are not for sale, intended to present the illusion “that there were unlimited supplies in the Reich.”
And this: The voluminous archives at the National Archives, the Library of Congress, and the Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library don’t tell us that in the summer of 1939, Donald Heath informed Chargé d’Affaires Kirk that he had received intelligence indicating that “Nazi military aggression would shortly occur,” or that Kirk gave him a “pitying” look and said, “My dear Don, even somebody as stupid as myself… knows there’s not going to be any war.” There is an extraordinary moment early in the book where American Consul General George Messersmith says to a colleague in the Roosevelt White House, "With few exceptions, the men who are running the government are of a mentality that you and I cannot understand. Some of them are psychopathic cases and would ordinarily be receiving treatment somewhere."
[In truth, the reader put down the book entirely convinced that most of the people in Hitler's government were psychopaths.]
Even so prestigious an observer as The New York Times was willfully blind, reminding its readers that Hitler was “ 'twice rejected last year' for the position he now occupies. 'The composition of the cabinet leaves Herr Hitler no scope for gratification of any dictatorial ambition.' "
I'm not saying much about Mildred herself in this review;that's by design. I don't want to do anything that might deprive readers of the experience of witnessing her evolution from an idealistic graduate student teaching American literature and language to unemployed German workers to a brave resister in the underground war against Hitler's government. We don't get all the details about her thoughts that we would like, and there is much about her that we cannot know or understand. That notwithstanding, "All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days" deserves all the attention it's been getting. The words used by reviewers -- "compelling," "gripping," "evocative," "revelatory," "intimate" -- are all well deserved. It's the kind of history book/biography that readers who typically stick with fiction will enjoy. Maybe "enjoy" isn't the best word, given the subject matter, but you know what I mean. I got the digital book from the library. Now I have to decide whether to buy a hard copy for myself so I can share it with my wife and daughter.