Thoughts on the Centenary

I was born 76 years and 10 days after Britain joined the war in 1914. If I'd been alive at the time, I would have seen my partner, brother, cousin, friends and colleagues leave for France. I probably would have lost at least one of them. This is a heartbreaking fact which makes me feel hopeless and desperate, even though Maxx and his cousin are sat next to me safe and sound eating baguettes.

I can't imagine the fear, the sadness and the horror those men must have faced. Looking at images of the landscapes, of the trenches, of the bodies and of the wounded is overwhelming. Seeing videos of hopeful young soldiers waving at the cameras, excited for battle, fills me with dread and a sense of guilt. Did he survive? What about him? 

There are many perceptive academic texts written about the effect of WWI, particularly on memory; posted below is an extract from one of my 3rd year essays, entitled "What are the main issues involved in writing about World War I within fictional forms?". The Runner is the fictional short story I wrote based on my great-grandfather's experiences.

The final issue involved in writing about World War One within fictional forms is reader and author understanding. The purpose of writing history fiction, as has been stated, is to entertain, but also to educate. This raises the question whether fictionalizing events as traumatic and important in British military history as World War One removes the seriousness of the subject. Romanticising the war as exciting and a great adventure could be seen to trivialise the trauma and losses suffered between 1914 and 1918. By contrast, fiction can also teach many truthful things; although the horror of war is sometimes absorbed into fictional war narratives, placing them in these contexts widens their appeal and therefore reaches a wider audience.

In 2000, Paul Fussell described how ‘a striking phenomenon of the last twenty-five years is this obsession with the images and myths of the Great War among novelists and poets too young to have experienced it directly.’[1]  The continued popularity of war narratives has been discussed; however, Fussell highlights how preposterous this seems when the writers have no experience, and arguably no real understanding, of what they are writing about. Without these personal experiences, writers are now reliant on the experience of others, but images are one of the few sources of the war that make it semi-accessible. When writing The Runner, I did look at images of the Somme in A J P Taylor’s The First World War: An Illustrated History, but as has been discussed, I only used one graphic image, to make it more effective. I attempted to counter my lack of understanding by focusing on the experiences passed to me from David Chapman.

---

[1] Paul Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p.321.

If you want to read The Runner, click here.

Travel Post: Berlin, Germany

Berlin was relaxing, moving, emotional, educational and fun. It definitely deserves it's reputation as a cool city - one third of it's space is 'green', it's incredibly pedestrian and cyclist friendly, and everywhere you look are tattooed, pierced, shaved-headed groups of people (not just teens, either!). We've never seen so few cars in a city!

We stayed at the Ramada Hotel in Alexanderplatz - the staff were really helpful and lovely, the hotel breakfast was incredible (yoghurt, toast, cereal, pancakes, eggs, bacon, cold meats, cheese, fresh fruit...) and the gym was ideal for a basic workout. The room itself was spacious, with a copy of Berliner magazine, a comfy chair, desk and little hanging wardrobe, and the bathroom had a waterfall shower! 

I was warned before we went that Germany doesn't have the best choice of food for vegetarians, but thankfully I didn't find this the case. Near our hotel was Dolores cafe, which does the most delicious vegan, vegetarian and meat burritos, and in the Alexanderplatz station was a Backwerk shop, which has a delicious selection of pastries, fresh bread and sandwiches. We also went to Cafe V in Kreuzberg. So, no problem on the food front. 

I've really struggled to decide which are my top 5 places to visit, as everything we saw was worth seeing. However, for the sake of making this a blog post and not a sermon on the merits of Berlin, here they are...

The Topography of Terror
This sounds like a miserable place to visit, and while the information boards are harrowing and saddening – they detail the rise of Hitler through to the end of the Nazi regime, including the punishment of SS officers and high-up Nazi officials – the place itself is clean, spacious and modern. The Topography of Terror is a memorial site, which people are asked to remember when visiting, so it is peaceful and gives the opportunity to reflect. It doesn’t seem right to say I ‘enjoyed’ going here, but it’s in my top 5 because the experience was poignant - the boards ran along the length of the site, parallel to a length of the Berlin Wall, almost like a double reminder of the effects of dictatorship. As well as describing the devastating history, there are also tales of hope, of people who fought against the Nazis.
Checkpoint Charlie is right next to the Topography. We visited the Black Box museum, which cost just 5 euros each, and saw an alarming video on exactly how the Berlin Wall defences worked. I don't know a lot about the Cold War, but this museum broke it down into easily understandable events.

The Topography of Terror

The German History Museum
The museum itself is a wonderfully pink building, with several temporary and permanent exhibitions, but we went specifically to see one about WWI which was advertised in Berliner magazine. I was curious to see how the war would be represented, and was impressed with how neutral the exhibition was - neither the Allies or Germany were blamed. It was completely absorbing, with thorough descriptions of specific battles, propaganda displays, and artefacts. After this, we went to see the permanent exhibition on Germany under the Nazis - I was quite upset by some of the photographs, particularly of Auschwitz victims. Again, I admired how the museum didn't shy away from this ugly part of its history.
Berlin Cathedral is in front of the museum. The cathedral's museum has some impressive and detailed models of its development from the 19th century until now. As well as being able to climb to the top and look out over Berlin, you can also visit the crypt. We were offered a discounted entry of 4 euros because we couldn't visit the main area of the cathedral, however the service finished while we were there so we got to go in after all.

German History Museum

Schloss Sanssouci

'Sans souci' translates to 'without worry' in French, appropriate given this was Frederick the Great's summer residence. Situated in picturesque Potsdam, 30 minutes on the train from Alexanderplatz, this royal palace was obviously extravagant, but was much smaller and therefore seemed somewhat homelier. The intricate ceiling designs and floral furniture were truly breathtaking, but the palace was small enough that you didn't become desensitised to the surrounding splendour. Situated a few hundred metres from the palace was a windmill, so we explored that too - I've never been in a windmill before!
There are hourly tours at Sanssouci - you will be told the next entry time when buying your tickets.

Schloss Sanssouci

Schloss Charlottenburg
Unsurprisingly, this was named after Queen Charlotte! We underestimated how long it would take us to walk from the Reichstag to here, but we finally arrived one rain shower and two hours later. On the way, we saw the victory column which Hitler wanted to place at the entrance to Germania, the city he was planning to build, so the walk itself was pretty if not exhausting. Anyway, the palace was beautiful - the silver table decorations and china plates were priceless, but my favourite part was walking through the gardens and relaxing by the lake. Several ducks and little birds came over to enquire if we had any food, and a heron flew over the water while we were looking out - it was a perfect end to the palace visit. I also enjoyed seeing the mausoleum; it was bigger than I thought it would be!

Schloss Charlottenburg

Schloss Cecilienhof

Styled like a Tudor house, this was the last palace built by the Hohenzollern family, who ruled Prussia and Germany until Kaiser Wilhelm's abdication in 1918. It is most famously known for being the location of the Potsdam conference in 1945, where Stalin, Churchill and Truman decided Germany's fate after WWII. It was really special to be in the room where hugely significant political decisions had been made 70 years earlier. There is a peaceful and scenic 2 kilometre walk through Neuer Garten to reach the house, which I'd recommend, as it has woods on one side and a lake on the other.

On the road by Cecilienhof is a bus stop which takes you back into Potsdam in about 15 minutes. 

Schloss Cecilienhof

Useful tips:

You will need to buy a photography permit - 3 euros per time - at most of the historic buildings and houses.

Most places, including cafes, charge 50 cents to use the toilet, so carry change in case you get desperate.

Specify that you want tap water, or you'll end up paying over 3 euros for a small carafe!

The transport is always on time, easy to use and inexpensive.

You will need to book well in advance to visit the Reichstag. We couldn't visit it because there were no free slots until the week after we'd left.

Book review: The Heart Specialist, by Claire Holden Rothman

While I was interning at Oneworld, they had a big clear out before their 'Hen' party (a celebration of the UK publication of the immensely successful The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly by Sun-mi Hwang). I rather took advantage of their offer to 'take whatever I wanted' and carried 14 books home.

The first book I decided to read was Holden Rothman's debut novel, The Heart Specialist...

The Heart Specialist
8/10

The novel is set at the turn of the 19th century in Canada. Agnes White, the protagonist, wants to follow in her father's footsteps and become a doctor, but her intelligence is deemed unwomanly and she faces opposition at every stage of her journey. As a character, she is determined and passionate - Agnes is somewhat of an anti-heroine through her ungainliness, plainness and general lack of adherence to social rules of what a woman should be. She is, however, very human, and desperately longs to be reunited with her father - he was accused of horrifically murdering his disabled sister and disappeared when Agnes was very young.

I felt that this novel was about human weakness as much as human strength - from Agnes' blindness to her colleague's affection, to her sister's mental illness, to her mentor's breakdown at the death of his son, The Heart Specialist is an ironic title; Agnes understands the most complicated heart disorders, but can't understand her own!

The novel has been criticised for reading too much like a biography, instead of fiction based on real life - Agnes is inspired by Maude Abbott, one of Canada's first female physicians. Yes, the text isn't littered with lengthy descriptions and emotional solloquies, but this was what made it consistent with Agnes' character - while she is prone to ill-timed fits of tears, she spends more time studying than pondering her confused emotions.

Agnes does become an accomplished doctor, but the absence of her father overshadows her personal and private life. Two mysteries remain unsolved during the novel - including whether her father was innocent of his crime - but as the book closes just after the end of World War One, it seems fitting that the confusion and cutting sense of loss felt in Europe seeps into Agnes' own life.

The Heart Specialist is a reflective account of the complexity of the human heart, both medically and emotionally. It was a gem I'm glad I picked up.