Reviews for Hitler's Niece: A Novel

The average rating for Hitler's Niece: A Novel based on 2 reviews is 2.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2010-06-29 00:00:00 Linda Clark “Oh Hitler!” “Oh Geli – meine kleine gehaltenmitgemütlichemkirchenkunsterschwartzeweldekirschtorte, is that a hard or a soft G?” “It’s hard. But the rest of me is soft, so soft, mein Fuhrer. You know my name rhymes with gaily, which is an English word meaning happily.” “Mine rhymes with whittler which is an English word meaning one who complains a great deal. But you can call me Uncle Adolph.” No, it’s not like that at all. That’s what it would have been like if I’d written it. Not so good. Hitler’s Niece is a novel that makes you feel queasy and not a little disgusted it’s also impossible to review without spoilers of one magnitude or another, so let me say straight away – this thing between Geli and Hitler? It comes to a bad end. And this guy Hitler, he comes to a bad end too. But not in this book. One of the thrilling qualities of the novel is its ability to peer into any corner, and to choose any distance from which to view its subject, and to switch these points of view around like a cardsharp producing a fifth ace. One moment Hitler is haranguing 7000 people in a tent, and then he’s suddenly snuffling in our ear, his silly moustache tickling our lobe. Ach! Horrible. Ron is writing a meticulous historical novel here, and it's got plenty of good stuff in it, but alas, he goes awry in so many ways. He gets himself completely drunk on detail. He piles it on with a spade. In Ron’s world, more is better. There’s lashings of period detail smothered all over the pages like chocolate in that revolting gateau called Death By Chocolate. It’s like Ron has bought a box full of cans marked Spray-On Historical Details (Germany 1920s) from History-R-Us, that well-known superstore chain. “At noon she took the green trolley to Odeonsplatz and bought a hair waver, two pairs of silk stockings, patent leather heels by Ferragamo, a yellow satin housecoat with pajama trousers, a Vionnet tweed coat cuffed and bordered in nutria, a Lanvin evening gown in black faille and strass, and a Lanvin silver coat with a white fox collar." “Geli strolled by a fair illustration in oil paints of the Sixteenth Bavarian Reserve Infantry Regiment on its first attack in Flanders in 1914, and then walked to one of Hitler’s many eighteenth-century paintings of Frederick the Great. She realised for the first time that the king of Prussia’s left hand was effeminately posed on his hip, just as her uncle’s often was.” And there’s also great wodges of unfictionalised historical exposition straight out of a boring history book : “An American businessman named Owen Young chaired an international commission that sought to give Germany economic relief by amending many punitive conditions of the Treaty of versailles. Agreeing with Gustav Stresemann, Germany’s foreign minister, the commission established a ceiling of 121 billion reichsmarks in war reparations, to be paid off in fifty-nine yearly installments” Hello? are you asleep yet? I nearly was. As you see, this stuff could have been cut and pasted from some really dull textbook. And there’s much more… but I’ll spare you. It’s not like this is stuff you need to know to understand what’s going off in the life of Adolph, it’s all just noises off, and anyone with the merest grasp of German inter-war history can do without Ron’s history lectures. Well, the main event in this novel is the grisly pas-de-deux of young Geli and the not-quite-fuhrer-yet. There’s a strong and profoundly unhealthy titillation of the reader going on here, of dripping prurience, a literary leer in lederhosen. Roll up, ladeezngentlemen, don’t be shy. Let Ron take you by the hand and lead you step by step closer to Hitler’s very bedroom. Yes! You will see with your own eyes the gorgeous unclothed form of 19 year old Geli – it rhymes with gaily! - in all it's slurplable loveliness; yes! you will see what romping with the future fuhrer is all about. Yes! You will see with your very own eyes - only one dollar one average sized dollar, thankyew - you will see the PENIS of the FUTURE FUHRER! Nobody does it like Hitler! Roll up! Another Ron, Ron Rosenbaum, wrote a great book called Explaining Hitler which includes an extraordinary interview with Claude Lanzmann, director of Shoah. The irascible Frenchman launches into an apoplectic tirade about Hitler’s baby photos. These photos are an obscenity, he says. They should never have been published. All this analysis of Hitler’s life, his mind, his soul, it’s an abomination. Because psychohistory is a figleaf for revisionism. To explain is to understand is to justify. All right, so, don’t be giving Claude a copy of Hitler’s Niece for his birthday present. Because all the gruesome human Hitlers you’ve been previously spared are here! Look - jolly Hitler, jumping Hitler, jesting Hitler, joyful Hitler, happy Hitler, playful Hitler, cringing Hitler, oh no, surely not, no, he wouldn’t, yes yes it’s true - masturbating Hitler. They’re all here. Roll up. I dunno. Ron does do a very good job in painting stroke by stroke Geli’s awful entrapment and predicament. This was not a situation she was going to be allowed to leave and she knew it. That part of this book grabbed me and convinced me (in one of those “yes! it must have been just like that!” moments). But, I dunno. The situation between them was one thing. But Ron goes farther and shows us what he imagines Hitler was “really like”, what he “really wanted” – the truth about Hitler. Which turns out to be fairly pervy S&M sex-game stuff. And even Ron ends up by hinting darkly at stuff he doesn’t wish to describe. “The things he makes me do!” wails Geli, without elaboration. But really, is it not facile – is it not the most lazy form of moral stereotyping, to imagine that because Adolf Hitler was a moral monster , was evil personified, his sexual life must therefore also have been depraved and horrible? Because that's what he was "really like" ? People are funny, you know. Sometimes, even, they’re complex. Not to say, as I say, that Ron Hansen can't write well, he can : p153 : He flinched at hearing the world "love" and his hooded stare fled to four parts of the room. That's good stuff. But the Fuhrer's penis - not so much.

Review # 2 was written on 2021-08-25 00:00:00 Morris Moton A fictional book based on truth about Hitler and his intimate relationship with his niece, Geli. My thoughts: I don’t have to believe everything I read. POPSUGAR Reading Challenge 2021: #43 - The book on your TBR list with the ugliest cover