We Are All Berliners

The 31st book on our list is Christopher Isherwoods The Berlin Stories. The book was placed at number 31 because it was published in 1946; however, The Berlin Stories is made up of two books: The Last of Mr. Norris, published in 1935, and Goodbye to Berlin, published in 1939. Both books take place in Berlin in the first few years of the 1930s, during which time there was a power struggle in Germany between communists and fascists, and the end of which resulted in Hitler's rise to power. This political backdrop makes for a fascinating stage on which Isherwood tells his stories.

The Berlin Stories is probably most famous today as the source for the Bob Fosse film Cabaret and Liza Minelli's portrayal of Sally Bowles. I have not had the good fortune to see the film, but I did have the pleasure of looking at reviews of it. Even better still, I saw comparative reviews of it and the 1955 adaptation of The Berlin Stories called I am a Camera. Presumably the reviewers had not read Isherwood's book because they spoke of Julie Harris's Sally Bowles as not being energetic enough and Laurence Harvey's Isherwood of not being gay enough.

But the Isherwood of The Berlin Stories (known as William Bradshaw in The Last of Mr. Norris) is not openly gay. His desires and cravings do not enter into the stories at all. He is a narrator that provides actions and reactions to the characters he meets, because in spite of the political backdrop, the novel is first and foremost a character study. And Isherwood's sense of character is what makes the book so enjoyable.

From Mr. Norris to Frl. Shroeder to Otto, Herr Schmidt, the Baron, Sally Bowles, to the most minor or characters, Isherwood brings them all to life. And who they are comes to us through their interactions with the narrator, who while remaining constant himself, means something different to each of them. Isherwood makes this relationship clear by having each character call him something different. To Frl. Schroeder, he is Herr Issyvoo, to Fritz and Sally he is Chris, to Otto and his family, he is Christoph, etc. I love the way Isherwood allows his narrator to have a life of his own and simultaneously allow other characters to pour themselves into him. There is a genuine love that Isherwood feels for all the characters he invents (or recreates from the real people he encountered in his time in Germany), and that love makes them all vibrant, fragile, lovable, and as close to alive as paper people become.

Much has been said already about who Isherwood creates, namely those people living on the fringes of society: the poor, prostitutes, con artists, bartenders, gay men and woman. This choice of characters no doubt reflects his own tendernesses, but it also aligns with the political environment in which he sets his novel. The main power struggle in both novels that make up The Berlin Stories takes place between the Nazis and the Communists. This conflict is more apparent in The Last of Mr. Norris, in which Norris and the narrator both join the Communist group for their own reasons. The leader of the Communists, Ludwig, is an incredibly charming man who seems to always be smiling and always know more than anyone else in the room. We learn near the end of his story, that he knew Mr. Norris was selling information about the Communist party, but he doesn't care about the betrayal. To him, the Communist party has room for everyone, even traitors. I kept waiting for something ugly to be revealed about Ludwig, but nothing ever was. Ludwig, and the communist party in turn, were the opposite of the Nazi's in Isherwood's novel. The Nazis are clearing house, attacking everyone who is not like them, while the Communists have open arms, and no matter who you are you have a place and a purpose; not matter who you are, you are welcome.

By 1939, when Isherwood published Goodbye to Berlin, the extent of the Nazi's hatred had revealed itself and the problems with Communism were also more apparent, so the second story is even darker in its political portrait. This political setting is, I think, what allows this collection of character stories to be so successful. There is not much of a plot in each of the stories, but there is a consistent and solid world that ties them all together, and the political happenings help give each story its own movement. Even though I never knew where a story was heading, I always felt like it was going somewhere, and the ride was always a good one because the world and the characters were so captivating.

This is not a roller-coaster of a ride kind of novel. This is not what they call a page-turner. But it is a novel that moves, that has a pace, and that provides a wonderful experience to the reader. If you are a reader who prizes character over action (but one who still demands a story in which those can exist) then you should plunge right into The Berlin Stories!

A Book More Equal than Other Books

How many overtly political novels can you think of that are embraced and praised by people of every political persuasion? Conservatives, liberals, capitalists, socialists, and even communists? George Orwell's Animal Farm is amazing because everyone loves it, and everyone loves it because it is amazing.

I can't imagine that I have anything new to say about this book or that anyone needs a review of it, so I will be brief. To me, the book is embraced by all because it breaks down so completely and so simply the means of manipulation that one group uses to control another. Before the invention of the photograph, how horses physically ran was a mystery. Their feet flew too fast to see, and it was popular to debate in the second half of the 19th century whether all four hooves of a horse were ever off the ground at the same time. It wasn't until Eadweard Muybridge took photos and put together a display that the case was settled. George Orwell does something similar with power and manipulation. And we can all appreciate the analysis and see it at work around us even today, no matter who is the force attempting to manipulate.

Squealer is the perfect media machine, creating numbers to "prove" what is not true, rewriting history freely and faulting the animals' bad memories and pernicious lies for the misunderstanding, and gleefully justifying why the ruling class needs special treatment "or else Jones will return." We see this combination of "facts," historical revision, and threats coming from all sides in order to gain our consent for a system that is not in our interest. Similarly, the animals don't have the wherewithal to argue against the lies, and even when they do, the distractions of the bleating sheep destroy that moment of potential protest. Our collective amnesia about the past is a common complaint today, and we see evidence of the "distractions" that pull our mind from the thing we should be focusing on. The right complains of the left employing these tactics, and the left complains of the right, and we all feel like the "lower animals" suffering in a system that is geared entirely against us.

Orwell, a literary hero of mine, manages to combine a direct and powerful writing style with a comprehensive political understanding and brings it all together with an unerring sense of story. At no point does his novel become a political tract. It is always a story first, and an incredible story at that. Stalin and Trotsky are just names in history books today, but Napoleon and Snowball will live forever.