Category Archives: Reader

Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada.

Posted on by

Alone in Berlin (or Every Man Dies Alone) is my book of the year which might seem premature to say in July but I knew this when I read it on holiday in January. So I was absolutely delighted when Simon selected it for our July book group. It’s written by Rudolf Wilhelm Friedrich Ditzen who used the pen-name of Hans Fallada (taken from a Brothers Grimm fairytale). The story is a fictionalised account of Elise and Otto Hampel, a poorly educated working-class couple from Berlin who commenced on a three-year propaganda campaign against the Nazi’s after Elise’s brother was killed in battle. Despite having no previous political activity they dropped cards off around Berlin voicing their discontent, much of which was aimed towards the Winter Fund, a false-front charity that secretly siphoned funds towards the war effort. Their story is one of amazing courage and follows on in the tradition of films such as Sophie Scholl (2005).

The book perfectly captures the paranoia of Nazi Germany at the time and how this filtered through every single element of society from the command of the army to the everyday people behind closed doors. Although the subject matter is depressing, Fallada doesn’t dwell on the details and instead moves from one event and character to the next. This means the reader quickly forgets the tragic circumstances of one character and is instantly thrust into the life of the next. In places this had such a dramatic effect on me I found myself re-reading certain chapters, as if attempting to temporarily preserve the lives of the characters for a bit longer.

The key to a good book is simple. You keep turning the page. Fallada is a master storyteller, thrusting you from one life to the next. The pages literally suck you in so that you can smell the characters. This means the reader never has time to reflect on what has just happened and instead is instantly thrust into the next set of circumstances. This is far more effective than say Arthur Koestler’s Darkness at Noon (a previous book group choice) which tries to create claustrophobia on the pages and instead distances the reader by relying on clever narrative devices. Fallada opts for the human story which is why it is so readable.

Which brings me nicely on to my favourite character, the hapless Enno Kluge. Kluge is a cheating, gambling no-good manipulator whose role is that of the ‘joker’. I’ve always had a soft spot for anti-heroes and in this he excels. He rides his luck and escapes situations by the skin of his teeth but he doesn’t learn. He’s bored of working in the factories producing machinery for the war effort and would much prefer to be out gambling and having fun. He has no interest in being assimilated into national propaganda and is so self-obsessed he seems oblivious to what’s going on at times or perhaps his way of coping is simply to block it all out. He infuriates the reader through his disrespect and manipulation of people but eventually he gets his comeuppance. When this happens I had to read the passage again as I was convinced he would escape, that he was faking his death, that the gun must have back-fired. He wasn’t. He was dead.

If you liked this book try out:

  • Defying Hitler by Sebastian Haffner
  • If Not Now, When? Primo Levi
  • The People’s Act of Love James Meek

Caribou Caravan: The Zine Machine

Posted on by

Photo James Walker.

Annelise Atkinson joined me at the Nottingham Writers’ Studio on the 18 January for a discussion on zines. Annelise runs the Caribou Caravan, a specialist boutique that makes and sells zines, cards, reconditioned typewriters and my personal favourite, cups with moustaches. The caravan is currently situated in Hopkinson’s Gallery but will soon be leaving to visit various arts and craft fairs up-and-down the country.

I invited Annelise to the studio for two reasons. Firstly, she’s an independent business and so needs as much support as possible. Being aware of various literature organisations and marketing herself more specifically to writers and readers could be essential for her survival. I’ve since been in contact with Ross Bradshaw to see if we can hold a similar discussion at Lowdham Book Festival. At first, I think Annelise was a little bit sceptical and thought I was after some kind of introduction fee for helping her out. Quite simply, I think what’s she’s doing is fantastic and I’d like to try and support her as much as possible. Independent businesses are closing down at an alarming rate in Nottingham – Lilly and Pinks being the latest – so unless we all pull together in whatever way we can, we’re destined for a bland city centre comprising of Tescos, Tescos and Tescos.

Inside the caravan. Photo by James Walker.

Secondly, it was an appropriate discussion for the studio as zines are a really viable option for writers at various stages of their career, something we tend to forget in the digital age. Zines offer collaboration with artists, encourage writers to be focussed through niche and specific topics, give experience of production and publishing, are accessible and affordable, can be used to promote work through spin-offs (thoughts from a character in your latest novel/poetry collection/extract from book etc) but most importantly, offer the opportunity of publication.

I was bought a Kindle for Christmas and I hate it. Functionally, it can’t be knocked. It holds loads of books and you can quickly search terms and phrases which are useful for research. But it’s an ugly brute. There is nothing magical or beautiful about it. Zines, on the other hand, are produced with love. They conjure the aura and essence that Walter Benjamin wrote of and are a reminder of the importance of the physical relationship we have when reading. Texture, touch and smell are just as important as words. That’s why we judge a book by its cover – and the kindle cover is generic.

Generally speaking zines take ages to make, any profit is negligible, they are produced in small runs and are read by a small niche audience. There’s something gorgeously futile about them – at least in relation to today’s values. But it would be a mistake to see them purely as an antidote to the Facebook generation as a lot use social networking websites for submissions or to promote work. Flicking through the zines reminded me of childhood and the excitement of waiting for my comic to come through the letterbox at 7am on a Saturday morning. You just don’t get that excitement with digital technology. You may have the world at your fingertips but there’s nothing tangible in your hand. That’s why there’s going to be a resurgence in zines. I hope.

Read an interview with Annelise Atkinson