Book Review: "When We Flew Away: A Novel of Anne Frank Before the Diary" by Alice Hoffman

 

[I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.]

When Scholastic announced the publication of When We Flew Away: A Novel of Anne Frank Before the Diary by Alice Hoffman was announced earlier this year, I was both excited and tentative.

I do think that a historical fiction novel about Anne Frank aimed at younger readers (on their website, Scholastic suggests this book for 8-12 year olds) may be a way for a new generation of readers to become interested in Anne's story before they are ready to read her diary.
 

Unfortunately, I really struggled with this book and I have trouble imagining most student-age children wanting to read it or feeling engaged with it.

The book is incredibly lyrical and fanciful, and almost the entire story (what little there is of an actual story, due to said lyrical and fancifulness often taking pages and pages simply to muse on subjects rather than propel any narrative) is written in a passive "tell, not show" style that quickly becomes wearisome.

Very rarely do any of the characters in the story feel like real people that you might read about in any other historical fiction. This is primarily because Hoffman writes in a lyrical third person omniscient style, we are constantly told how characters act and feel.

We are told Anne is this way, we are told the grandmother feels that way; very rarely do we get any information through character action or dialogue. On the rare occasions when we do, this is often immediately followed up by yet another barrage of explanatory, lyrical sentences that tell us everything without allowing the story to show.

If anyone in the family happens to behave in a way that might seem unpleasant, Hoffman is quick to reassure us that actually, they only behaved that way because of some specific explanation. Then we get metaphorical sentences for at least a paragraph or two before moving on.

The omniscient style extends into the future as well, as throughout the book we learn about events that are yet to come, such as the deaths of certain percentages of Jewish people from a certain city, and the fate of Jewish people in Europe in general.

 If the story had been written from the perspective of some otherworldly narrator (like "Death" in The Book Thief) then perhaps this would have felt fitting.

As it is, it only works to further detach When We Flew Away from the realm of historical fiction that seeks to present real people and events and closer into a heavy metaphorical narrative non-fiction.

Due to this style, it is only rarely that anyone in the book feels like a person with real thoughts or behaviors. Everyone almost feels like an exalted metaphorical figure, already knowing their fates and behaving like whimsical metaphors. Anne in this book does not feel like Anne from her diary or the Anne recounted by those who knew her.

There are a few stand out moments where the characters feel real--a moment when Anne is accosted by a Nazi after she stands too long near an ice rink; her father's excitement when he thinks they have finally made progress in seeking refuge in America--but these are vastly outnumbered by the constant metaphors and lyrical prose.

While Hoffman does occasionally allow a little of character to show in Anne, it quickly jumps back to presenting Anne as this sort of vague, whimsical, adult-in-a-child's body character who constantly sees metaphorical black moths encroaching on her world.

Hoffman's writing is not bad. There are some beautiful passages in here. The trouble is that the entire book is written in this fanciful omniscient passive style that feels catered more towards adults who read middle grade than actual middle grade readers who might be looking for an engaging historical fiction story.

When reading the novel, I couldn't help but think about recent social media posts discussing this very issue: how middle grade books are more and more catering to adults who buy them for kids, and not the children themselves.

This might be a perfect read for someone looking for an evocative, lyrical book. Unfortunately, it wasn't right for me.

Book Review: 'Hiroshima: The Last Witnesses' by M.G. Sheftall

 

[I received a review copy of this publication from the publisher via Netgalley.]
 

Hiroshima: The Last Witnesses by M.G. Sheftall is the first volume in what will be a two-book series covering Sheftall's extensive research into the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This first volume, which covers the bombing of Hiroshima, is the result of years of personal interviews with Hiroshima survivors and research into the atomic bomb and its effects, including literal physical effects and the social and psychological effects that survivors faced down the years.
 
If I were to choose one word to describe this book, it would be this: unrelenting. Because when the chapters begin to hone in on details clearly gleaned from the personal testimony of survivors, it really does feel like an unrelenting surge of horror that you can’t look away from. Nor should you be able to.
 
Sheftall’s book begins chronologically, with the lead-up to the bombing, some backstory on its creation and mechanics, before moving into what begins as chronological almost minute-by-minute testimony related to survivors and victims of the bomb.
 
It is in the information taken from interviews and testimonies that the importance of this book really takes shape.
 
While Sheftall's book is not the first English-language book to contain detailed testimony from survivors, it is the first one I’ve read which incorporates every possible human detail and, most importantly of all in terms of historical value, places that testimony into its proper context.
 
We are not just told that a person was at such-and-such a place during the bomb. Those who died, and those who survived, are not vague figures or statistics mentioned in passing. Instead, Sheftall reconstructs who they were, how they came to be in a specific place when the bomb dropped, and even <I>why</I> they were there in the first place.
 
Due to the ages of the survivors Sheftall interviewed, most of the detailed survivor accounts come from students who had been part of the forced labor mobilization that took Japanese students out of the classrooms and placed them in factories, working on firebreaks, and training for what was expected to be a land invasion. So many of the victims discussed here were killed in schools, or while working with classmates; survivors, more often than not, were those who happened to stay home that day.
 
It quickly becomes clear when reading Sheftall’s account of events that the difference between life and death in Hiroshima was often due to random circumstances.
 
One girl survived because her class team leader lost a game to determine which students worked on an area that would end up being close to ground zero, while the others were further away and thus, more likely to survive the bombing. One boy survived because he had a stomach ache and, since his father (who would not have accepted a stomach ache as a reason to stay home from important war work) was not home, his mother let him stay in bed to rest.
 
It is when exploring these human details that the book is at its most engrossing and informative, despite the unrelenting nature of the information we learn. The reconstruction of events created from invaluable primary sources (I.e, Sheftall’s many interviews, along with published narratives and testimony) provide invaluable information about what was happening on the ground, in addition to sharing what will be far lesser known experiences to English-speaking readers.
 
However, shortly after the initial set of detailed minute-by-minute testimony about the bomb and its short and long aftermath, the book suddenly seems to stop: it goes from a chronological account based on survivor testimony into modern first person anecdotes from the perspective of Sheftall.
 
These first person passages(both the initial interlude and then later random passages) tend to revolve around Sheftall’s research. Sheftall recalls how he felt judged when visiting a memorial park, how he convinced a certain survivor to give an interview, how he attended various memorials down the years and his reception there.
 
In these passages, the book feels like it’s more about Sheftall than the subject of the narrative. This may have felt more appropriate as an author’s note in the introduction, but it is rather strange when it occurs on and off throughout the book proper.
 
Another jarring element of the book is that while it began chronologically before suddenly shifting to a chapter discussing Sheftall visiting a survivor in the hopes of gaining an interview, after this initial first person interlude,  it jumps back to “the beginning,” so to speak.
 
After the sudden chapter from the author’s point-of-view, the book heads back in time to present another round of testimonies starting before the bomb dropped. From this point on, the chapters go back and forth so often, suddenly stopping the narrative about a certain family or individual before beginning a new chapter about someone else, that it becomes dizzying. It’s essential to take notes to keep track of everyone, and it’s frustrating to constantly go back and forth in the timeline.
 
While the book excels at presenting detailed information about the survivors and victims that presents a complete picture of the human beings affected by the decisions of the governments above them, sometimes I had to wonder why Sheftall spent so much time on certain elements.
 
The strongest example of this is a multi-chapter interlude where Sheftall goes into the history of Christianity in Japan and then specifically in Christianity in Hiroshima. This interlude begins after Sheftall ends a chapter by noting a survivor who ended up turning to Christianity in the years after the bombing.
 
Then we are suddenly thrust into a multi-chapter historical lesson (it takes two chapters to get back to the survivor in question) that veers so far off from the narrative path that I had to go back two chapters to remind myself where we had been.
 
This type of excessive backstory also tends to happen when companies or organizations are mentioned. Instead of a paragraph or two explaining the history or context of the company, we get multiple pages about them, all simply because one person worked for them at the time of the bombing.
 
While I absolutely appreciate that Sheftall brings proper context to the people and events in question, sometimes--as with the two chapter Christianity backstory--it feels excessive.
 
Eventually, the book does fall back into a more-or-less chronological narrative, discussing the social and political aftermath of the bombings for those that survived. This is another element of the book that shines strongly, particularly because Sheftall isn’t afraid to debunk myths and expose the less appealing underside of the narratives built up around the bombing in the decades afterward.
 
Sheftall, for instance, notes one survivor who became unpopular in survivor’s groups because she wrote about and denounced the ultra-conservative narrative being embraced by the families of many victims; this narrative mirrored the same narrative used in the enshrinement of war criminals at Yasukuni shrine. While other books might shy away from exposing this unappealing element--both the narrative and the treatment of the survivor--Sheftfall lets readers take it in.
 
Overall, while I have some misgivings about the structure of the book and the sometimes jumbled focus, I do think that Sheftalls’ incredible intimate, detailed reconstructions of the experiences of those who survived--or didn’t survive--the bombing of Hiroshima will make this one of “the” books on the subject in the years to come.
 
 

Book Review: Thorns, Lust and Glory by Estelle Paranque

 

[I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.]
 

Thorns, Lust and Glory: The Betrayal of Anne Boleyn by Estelle Paranque is a highly engaging book that doesn’t quite live up to the presumption of “betrayal” made in the title.

The premise set up in the early pages of Thorns, Lust and Glory: The Betrayal of Anne Boleyn and explored throughout the book is admittedly somewhat blurry: the general idea is that Anne was "betrayed" by the French who refused to take a stand against Rome in favor of supporting England, Henry VIII and her marriage.

The book later fleshes out this idea, positing that this was a “betrayal” because Anne was essentially a "French princess," that she had been acting in French interests after her rise in England, and thus the refusal of the French king and court to support England over Rome and step in when Anne herself was arrested was specifically a betrayal against Anne Boleyn herself.

While Paranque explores what we do know of Anne's connections to France (which continued after she left England, to at last some degree) and discusses at length the political and diplomatic schemes, plots and pleadings involved in the various attempts to gain French support for Henry VIII’s annulment and remarriage, I don't feel that the general thesis was actually supported by this presented evidence.

Yes, Anne served in the court of France for some years. Yes, Anne entertained French ambassadors, and went with Henry to France in their bid to get Francis' support for their marriage. Yes, the French sent various diplomats at various times to attempt to drum up support for Henry VIII’s will on the matter of his marriage(s).

But nothing written about in this book supports this idea that Anne was acting in French interests, that she was--as Paranque writes numerous times in the book--essentially a "French princess," nor that the French’s actions could be viewed as as a “betrayal” against Anne Boleyn.

Paranque writes in her introduction that, “Some dialogue has been re-created from primary sources and perhaps I have also allowed myself more speculative claims that again are based on primary evidence, but rely evidently on my own judgment and appreciation of them.”

In regards to the dialogue being primary sources repurposed, it’s not something I like to see done in non-fiction  without the author admitting that they are putting letters into a different context at the moment.

Otherwise, readers are left to wonder: is what I’m reading an accurate representation of this primary source? Was the original primary source a letter, which has been spun into a piece of dialogue? Did the primary source use these exact words? What does recreated mean, here?

While it may make the book more readable, it makes the final understanding of the history fuzzier, and thus not something I want to rely on when learning about Anne Boleyn or these events.

Speculation is inherent when writing about history, especially a figure like Anne Boleyn where there are shockingly few traces of her thoughts and feelings, but the speculation in the book often goes too far.

There is a difference between, for instance, suggesting that a young Anne would have surely been impressed by royal spectacle witnessed as a lady-in-waiting to the French queen and what Paranque does repeatedly throughout this work, which is connect basic events ("Anne witnessed this spectacle while serving in France") and leap to vaster conclusions.

For instance, Paranque writes, after exploring the brief courtship between Henry Percy and Anne Boleyn, that Anne was "buoyed with confidence from her years in France, and what she had learned from the royal women there, she felt ready for whatever might be in store. Secretly, she prayed for glory."

Did she? When? What about Anne's reaction (which is to say--we don't know it!) to the ending of her courtship with Percy, or anything at all from this period, suggests that she was secretly praying for glory? Suggesting that perhaps she admired the powerful women at the French court is one thing, but writing at this stage that she secretly prayed for glory is an entirely different level of speculation.

Although I don’t really agree with the basic premise of the book and I don’t think there was any great revelation made here regarding Anne being “betrayed” by France, I did appreciate some of the smaller details that Paranque was able to uncover regarding Anne’s time in France, along with more detailed information about the movement of diplomats in regards to the “marriage problem” of Henry VIII.

I think that many popular portrayals about the marriage forget just how long it took for decisions to be made, just how many politicians, courtiers and clergymen were tasked with trying to resolve the king’s “question” of his marriage; all these moving parts, at least in regards to France, are covered here in a way that is easy to understand.

Paranque’s writing is very engaging as well, even when the book is covering what might otherwise be a bit of a slog to get through. Sometimes I felt like I was listening to someone speak passionately about a subject they were invested in, which makes for easier reading when it comes to non-fiction. You can tell that Paranque has a strong passion for Anne Boleyn and respect for what she endured in her final days.

Although I don’t think the book lives up to the premise that Anne was “betrayed” by the French, I do think the book is worth a look if you’re interested in more of the behind-the-scenes diplomatic details regarding Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. The book does contain more actual primary sources (versus speculation about what Anne surely must have felt or done) when it comes to these diplomatic missions, so that is one of the stronger areas of the book.

 

Book Review: At the Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, 1943-1944 by David Koker

 

The cover for At the Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, 1943-1944 by David Koker

[Note: I originally reviewed this book in 2012 on the original 'Inviting History Book Reviews.' This review is rewritten from the original version.]

 
David Koker was only 23 years old when he died on route to Dachau in early 1945. He was one of an estimated 6 million Jewish victims of the Holocaust. A writer, a student, a son, a brother, a friend. The diary he kept while enduring one of the most unthinkable horrors in recent memory was published in English for the first time as At The Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, 1943-1944.

David Koker's diary is nothing less than a remarkable and essential read, a book that not only provides an unsettling and revealing grounds-eye view of the inner workings of a concentration camp but which provides readers with an unflinching reality: that of a silenced voice, diminished and subject to mental and physical brutality that impacted all who were imprisoned under it.

David Koker was interned, along with his mother, father and younger brother, in the Vught camp in February of 1943. He began his diary soon after, and maintained it until February of the next year, when he and his family were deported out of the camp and the diary was given to a civilian employee working at Vught. This civilian employee smuggled it out to a non-Jewish friend of Koker, who kept the pages safe during the war.

The diary is not only a well-detailed account of life in the Vught camp, but a testament to Koker's internal struggles as he (and those around him) attempted to come to terms with the horror of their situation. As people are sent on trains "to the East," as a camp which housed children deports them to unknown destinations, Koker and those around him are faced with new realities that they must contend with day by day.

In his introduction to At The Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, Robert Jan van Pelt explains why the diary's existence is unique: 

 "... the number of postwar memoirs written by Holocaust survivors is enormous, and the number of diaries and notebooks written during the Holocaust [by people who were] at home, or in a ghetto, or in hiding is substantial, the number of testimonies that were written in the inner circles of hell, in that German concentration camp, and that survived the war is small." 

The ability to write a diary under such circumstances would have been difficult enough, both emotionally and logistically, but David Koker did more than that. He did not simply write: he wrote a substantial and highly observational diary, full of factual observations about life and prisoners in the camp; along with an insightful, often disturbing, psychological probe into the “abyss” that surrounded Koker and the other prisoners at Vught.

Koker was able to obtain a relatively privileged position in the camp, which was one of the reasons why he was able to maintain his diary and perhaps, one of the reasons why Koker was able to maintain a greater sense of ‘detachment’ from camp life.

In some ways, David Koker's diary is remarkably subdued, particularly given the subject matter. Many of his diary entries describe unreal circumstances with an almost nonchalant attitude. Perhaps the apparent “normalcy” in his diary could be attributed to Koker's feelings of detached assimilation into camp life, a sort of psychological defense mechanism to being thrust into a wholly extraordinary situation.

In March of 1943, less than a month after having been imprisoned at the camp, he wrote to his girlfriend in hiding:  

"I immediately accept everything as normal. That's why I don't experience things sufficiently. ... You must believe me: from the second day on everything was quite normal: the German detachments, being together with so many people, the strange food, taking care of the most essential daily matters, etc. I didn't notice the passage from one kind of life to the other ... even the strangest and most awful things become normal and agreeable." 

Koker's position of privilege in the camp came with a psychological transformation. Koker was aware of how imprisonment had changed him and in one self-aware, somber passage, he wrote:

"You become selfish, even towards your own family ... Sometimes I treat the children with bitterness, yet the friendliest treatment hides a bit of sadism and lust for power. ... A kind of feeling of being in charge."

In several passages throughout his diary, Koker mentions notable events in Poland; including the now-notorious name of Auschwitz—an ominous, blackened destination that is forever associated with pain, violence and mass genocide. 

Yet to Koker--at first--Auschwitz was merely a destination where many of those deported from Vught and other camps were headed. The real fate of those sent "to the East" was not wholly known and in the case of Vught, Koker and the other imprisoned people were led to believe that being deported was not something to be feared.

In September of 1943, Koker wrote: “… good reports are coming in from Poland. It’s only too bad that people really are working in the coal mines. But the work isn’t all that heavy, many write.” A footnote goes on to explain that a special project was created in which Jewish inmates were, prior to being murdered, forced to write postcards to relatives, which were then sent out at intervals to give the impression not only of life but of relatively good conditions in the camps. In November, Koker wrote again: “ … the administrator has spoken about Auschwitz, where the [Escotex branch] will go in its entirety. Stories … have a more or less sunny aspect. Jewish camp leadership. A lot of agriculture, the camp is largely self-supporting. … If you ask me, it sounds livable.

But the brutal reality of “the East” came crashing down only a few weeks later.

On  November 27th, David Koker’s birthday, Koker and his group learned the truth about what was going on outside the walls of their prison.

“The morning of my birthday: Spitz reads an excerpt from a letter from Poland. Three people … are living with Moves [note: expression meaning “they are dead.”]. And Moves’s business is working overtime. … Seldom have I seen anything set out so clearly in writing … Our optimistic messages from Poland are not incorrect. They have simply been incomplete. A probably relatively small group is working and doing reasonably well. And the rest: wiped out. The world has changed.”

Koker, who was transferred into a privileged group known as the "Philips-Jews," was deported to Asuchwitz in June of 1944; for a time, he and a select group were protected from routine death selections due to their status. However, in February 1945, Koker fell ill and died on a transport to Dachau. His father died of exhaustion in LangenBilau; his mother and brother, Max, both survived the war.

Readers may sometimes struggle with the flowing structure of Koker's diary, but it should be remembered that his diary is effectively raw. Unlike writers who penned diaries in total hiding or who survived the Holocaust and wrote their memoirs afterwards, Koker did not have the ability to edit his diary either for its intended readers (himself, along with his girlfriend) or for later public consumption. The editorial team does an excellent job with providing footnotes and source citations for the people, places and events mentioned in the diary, which does make it easier to understand the context of the information.

Yet the rawness of Koker's diary should not be taken as a flaw or even a criticism of his writing. It should be a reminder of what we are reading, what each word printed on the page represents. At its core, At the Edge of the Abyss is a compilation of the inner thoughts of a human being whose identity, whose freedom, whose life was cruelly destroyed and eliminated by Nazism. A human being who had hope of surviving the water,

I recommended At the Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, 1943-1944 by David Koker, edited by Robert Jan van Plet and translated from Dutch by Michiel Horn and John Irons, to any reader searching for contemporary Holocaust documents. It is one of the most important contemporary accounts of a concentration camp published in English within the last 2 decades.

[A review copy of this book was provided by the publisher upon my request.]

Book Review: Review: Treacherous Beauty: Peggy Shippen, the Woman behind Benedict Arnold's Plot to Betray America by Stephen H. Case and Mark Jacob

The cover for Treacherous Beauty: Peggy Shippen, the Woman behind Benedict Arnold's Plot to Betray America by Stephen H. Case and Mark Jacob

[Note: I originally reviewed this book in 2012 on the original 'Inviting History Book Reviews.' This review is rewritten from the original version.]

When considering notable women who played a role in the American Revolution, it is usually select women who come to mind. Women such as Abigail Adams, whose words "remember the ladies" resonate today despite more than two centuries of distance; Deborah Sampson, whose decision to enlist in the military despite the restrictions against women and then later fight for her right to a military pension were deeply symbolic of a desire for the foundation of a new country

But what about the women who did not support the decision to separate from England--or women who went so far as to work against the Revolution itself?

Treacherous Beauty: Peggy Shippen, the Woman Behind Benedict Arnold's Plot to Betray America by Stephen H. Case and Mark Jacob is the first modern popular biography of an enigmatic and often ignored figure in American history--Peggy Shippen, the wife of the infamous Benedict Arnold. 

Peggy, born Margaret Shippen, was born into the elite world of Philadelphia's high society. Not much is known about her early childhood, although Case and Jacob suggest in this book that she received an above-average education for her sex and learned much about finances through her father and mother. 

She came of age during the American Revolution in British-occupied Philadelphia and developed a strong social reputation due to her beauty and wit. She was considered to be one of the most beautiful women in the city and frequently attended balls and other social gatherings with others of her rank. Also in attendance at these elite social gatherings were British soldiers, including one John André, who would later play an important role in the "Benedict Arnold plot."

Peggy was considered to be beautiful, loving and sweet, but she was presumably not Benedict Arnold's first choice for a new wife. Case and Jacob point out that many of the lines Benedict used in his courting letter to Peggy were actually recycled from letters he had written to a previous potential wife. Regardless of whether or not Arnold was pursuing Peggy out of genuine love or merely from acceptance that his first choice had rejected him, the two were eventually married and what soon followed is the subject of much debate and controversy. 

How much of a role did Peggy Shippen play in Benedict Arnold's decision to become a spy for Britain? Did she know about the extent of his betrayal? And if she did, how much did she use her knowledge to advance Britain's desire to quash the American Revolution? Did Peggy herself play an active or passive role in the most notorious betrayal of the American Revolution?

Although the title of the book labels Peggy squarely as the woman "behind" the plot, I don't think that the authors, if it was their attention to paint her as the mastermind, successfully provided enough evidence to suggest that Peggy was the one who pushed Arnold into making his final and what would be his fateful decision regarding espionage.

Unfortunately, much of Peggy's correspondence was destroyed or burned in the wake of the plot, perhaps to save her reputation or prevent her from being implicated. So it is difficult to determine exactly what she did, how much she knew--and what role she played in the decision for Benedict Arnold to betray the cause he had once fought to promote.

After the news of Arnold's betrayal broke, Peggy claimed innocence; "the poor innocent wife of Benedict Arnold," as she was called after news of his betrayal and her subsequent hysterics at the "shocking news" broke out across the rebelling colonies.

And although they do not provide a tight case for Peggy being the woman behind the plot, Case and Jacob were able to provide ample information which not only indicates she knew about Benedict Arnold's betrayal--but that she assisted him and played at least some active role in the espionage.

The plot to betray America is, understandably, the real meat and bones of the book. Because there are gaps in the recorded history of Peggy's life, some of the narrative focuses much more on the actions of Arnold--whom Peggy often followed; along with John André, who left behind a more tangible historical trail than Peggy Shippen. However, Case and Jacob have made excellent use of the resources they had to create an interesting and rounded narrative of Peggy's life--from her birth in pre-revolutionary American to her matrimonial betrayal of the revolution and finally to her last years in England, where she spent most of her time dealing with poor state of her family's finances and securing a future for her children.

I recommend Treacherous Beauty: Peggy Shippen, the Woman Behind Benedict Arnold's Plot to Betray America by Stephen H. Case and Mark Jacob to readers who are interested in the American Revolution, 18th century, or women's studies in the 18th century.

[A review copy of this book was provided by the publisher upon my request.]

 

Book Review: An Imperial Concubine's Tale: Scandal, Shipwreck, and Salvation in Seventeenth-Century Japan by G.G. Rowley

 

Cover for 'An Imperial Concubine's Tale' by G. G. Rowley

[Note: I originally reviewed this book in 2013 on the original 'Inviting History Book Reviews.' This review is rewritten from the original version.]

Life in early 17th century Japan could be precarious and wild, even for those who were privileged enough to live and work in the imperial palace. The wilderness of the court, however, was vastly different than the wilderness outside the protected imperial walls. To live in the imperial court was to live in service of the emperor, to pledge one's entire self to live according to the stringent rules of society.

Men and women needed to ensure that they never overstepped the boundaries of their station and prescribed roles at court. Violating these boundaries risked punishment which could range banishment or confinement, even to execution; the cruelty and severity of the punishment often rested on the good will and mercy of the emperor.

An Imperial Concubine: Scandal, Shipwreck and Salvation in Seventeenth-Century Japan by G. G. Rowley is a painstakingly researched examination of the life of a remarkable woman who lived in 17th-century Japan, and whose involvement in a great imperial court scandal would change the course of her life forever.

Nakanoin Nakako was a noblewoman who entered into the service of the imperial court when she was around 11 years old. The Imperial Daily Records of January 19th, 1601 mark her entry into this vast and complicated world simply: “The young lady, daughter of the Nakanoin, entered [the palace]; she was received in the anteroom with congratulatory cups of sake and strips of kelp."

The life the young Nakako entered was one solely centered on the emperor. When she became of age, she might fulfill duties such as serving meals to the emperor, bathing and clothing him, presented his gifts and providing entertainment. Women of age might also attend to that duty inherent to the role of an imperial concubine, but these duties were not recorded in the otherwise meticulous Daily Records.

Nakako's rigid yet luxurious life as an imperial concubine was altered forever by what would eventually be known as the "Dragon Scandal." In the 6th month of 1609, a series of hurried, almost frantic entries in the diaries of courtiers record the growing rumors circulating about "lax behavior" on part of the imperial palace attendants.

By the end of that month, the imperial concubines were forbidden to leave their apartments due to the beginnings of an investigation. At the beginning of the 7th month, the entries in the Daily Records mark an ominous note: "1st day: … His Majesty took his morning cup of sake. No meal was served because no one could be found."

Three days later, the Dragon Scandal finally broke. Five women, including Nakako, were sent into the custody of their families to await further instructions from the emperor. The women were accused of "lax behavior." The nature of these accusations varied from source to source, but the broad accusations included: leaving the imperial palace to attend private parties in the homes of male courtiers; attending kabuki dances outside of the palace; and, most damaging of all, possibly having sexual relationships with men who were not the emperor.

Whether or not Nakako or any of the people accused were guilty is unknown and legitimately irrelevant: they were punished, regardless. The initial punishment set for this behavior was execution for all parties involved, men and women alike. However, the emperor was persuaded to only execute two men of a lower rank, while the rest of the accused--including Nakako--were sent into exile.

Nakako was banished to the island of Nijima, but she would never make it there. The boat transporting her to her new home shipwrecked in the harbor of Nagatsuro, at the tip of the Izu Peninusula. A village nearby would become her home for the next 14 years. Information about Nakako's life there is scarce but invaluable. Rowley was able to find contemporary accounts that describe a relatively peaceful life: Nakako directing the dancing for harvest festivals and on some occasions, dancing in the festivals herself. She was known in the village as Nakako-hime--or princess Nakako.

In 1623, Nakako and the other women punished in the Dragon Scandal were pardoned and allowed to return to the capital. Nakako was a young women of 18 or 19 when she was exiled; by the time she was pardoned, she was in her early 30s. Her life after her pardon is something of a mystery: she drops off official records, and nothing is known about where she lived or what she did. Rowley believes it is likely that she lived quietly with at her family home.

In 1641, Nakako again appears in the records: Eighteen years after she was pardoned for her apparent role in the Dragon Scandal, she joined an aristocratic convent. She would become an abbess of this same convent. She died in 1671, around the age of eighty, outliving the rest of her family.

Nakako is an elusive figure. She did not leave behind extensive written records. She did not play a drastic, country-altering history that often leads historians to treasure troves of information. Yet she did exist. And Rowley has managed to uncover her story through scraps of contemporary records: notes in the Daily Records about her entry into the imperial court and subsequent banishment; poetry; diaries mentioning the tumultuous events of the court; local records and in some cases, local legends passed down for generations about "princess Nakako" and her journey. The end result is a shining light, however incomplete, on a figure who otherwise may have been lost to history.

Rowley takes on the remarkable task of not only telling Nakako's story, but fleshing out her world by researching the lives of her contemporaries in order to provide a glimpse of what her life would have been like. Readers may be left wishing that there was something in Nakako's own hand to take in, something written by this woman whose life ebbed and flowed on the whim of the imperial court and the emperor's wishes. Yet the wispy traces of Nakako, a young woman in the prime of life banished from all she has ever known and torn from her family, make her more enigmatic than ever.

This poem, composed by Nakako's father after he received a letter from his daughter, explaining her banishment, records the despair at Nakako's parting from her family and former life:
 

Could even the
Expected eternal parting
Compare with this?
I wonder at such a moment
Coming in my own lifetime.

I highly recommend An Imperial Concubine's Tale: Scandal, Shipwreck, and Salvation in Seventeenth-Century Japan by G.G. Rowley for readers interested in 17th century history, Japanese history, or women's history.

[I was provided a copy of this book by the publisher in exchange for a review]

Book Review: The Ravine: A Family, a Photograph, a Holocaust Massacre Revealed by Wendy Lower

 

"Atrocity images, especially the rare ones that attest to acts of genocide, the crime of all crimes, offend and shame us. When we turn away from them, we promote ignorance. when we display them in museums without captions and download them from the internet without historical context, we denigrate the victims. And when we stop researching them, we cease to care about historical justice, the threat of genocide, and the murdered missing."

--Wendy Lower, 'The Ravine: A Family, a Photograph, a Holocaust Massacre Revealed' 

The Ravine: A Family, a Photograph, a Holocaust Massacre Revealed  is the result of years-long research that took scholar Wendy Lower across numerous countries, into archives, into trail-laden forests and even into the homes of witnesses in the hopes of finding the identities of people in an old photograph.

The photograph in question: A black and white photograph of a woman and child being shot by men in WWII-era German and Ukrainian uniforms. At first glance, the photograph shows a woman falling forward, in the process of dying from a gunshot wound, as her hand grips a barefoot child next to her. After Wendy Lower's research, we know more: there was another child being held in the woman's lap, their only traces to us being the hint of their shins as they fell from the dying woman's embrace.

For almost ten years, Wendy Lower worked to undercover the truth behind the photograph. In an attempt to find some justice for the murdered, her goal was to identify the victims and if possible, identify their murderers. Her work took her to the United States, Slovakia, Isreal, Germany and the Ukraine. She went into archives, into the former forests that had once been killing sites, into the homes of those who witnessed--or whose parents, or grandparents witnessed--the murders of the Jewish people who once lived in Miropol.

The end result of Lower's research is a testament to the importance of researching the stories of Holocaust victims, of not simply consuming their misery and moving on, but striving to give the voiceless murdered back the dignity that was taken from them.

Despite Lower's exhaustive efforts, she was ultimately unable to confirm the identity of the woman or children murdered in the photograph. But her work was not in vain. We know what happened to the Jewish people of Miropol; we know about the rough timeline of the "actions" that took place there, with the assistance and collaboration of local Ukrainians. We know what happened to some of the murderers who participated in the slaughter of innocent men, women and children. We know what happened to some of the witnesses, those who were ordered to dig graves and those who watched--willingly or otherwise--as their neighbors were killed. We know what happened to the photographer, an anti-Nazi activist who worked with his wife in coded letters to ensure that his photographs of the massacres were preserved. We may not know all, but there is some light shone into the darkness of the more than 500,000 Ukrainian-Jewish Holocaust victims whose identities still remain unknown.

Lower's writing is refreshingly open, laying out the details she has gleamed from years of research without veering into unnecessary imagination. Lower does not ask us to imagine what it felt like to be the woman standing at the edge of a pit, she does not ask us to imagine the blueness of the sky or crispness of the air around them; she does not ask us to imagine what must have been going through the minds of those murdering people or the minds of those who attacked and raped their Jewish neighbors before they were sent off to be killed and dumped into pits.

Perhaps some readers might find Lower's writing unemotional due to its lack of emotional adjectives, but my opinion on this point can be  expressed with a quote by David Aaronovitch in his review of The Ravine in The Times (UK): "Her writing is spare, with no adjectival intrusion. I welcome it. I don’t need to be told that shooting a woman and children beside a pit is brutal."

Lower focuses her research lens both small and wide, allowing viewers to learn both the micro and macro history related to the photo. Lower blows up details of the photo and analyzes each section concisely (Are there any additional witnesses hidden in the trees? What does the output of light from the sky tell us about the season, the time of day, the camera lens itself? What about the type of clothing being worn by the victims and their murderers?); she also examines the wider context of the photo. What was going on in Miropol before the photo was taken? What do witnesses say happened prior to the marching of the Jewish people of Miropol into the forests, from which only one survivor--a teenage girl, who crawled out of the moving pit of dead and dying people and took refuge nearby--was ever to return?  

The Ravine is not an easy read. But it is a necessary one.

The haunting echo of the "missing missing," those lives whose identities and ultimate fate were lost when entire families, entire streets, entire towns were wiped out, continues.