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Jewish World Review Oct. 6, 1999/ 26 Tishrei, 5760
Robert Leiter
Daphne Merkin, now of The New Yorker and a novelist herself, is one of
these fearless reviewers who's found worth in titles others have ignored
while alternately having the courage to challenge the newest "masterpiece"
on the block.
That is why when Merkin turned to novelist Ron Hansen's newest work,
HITLER'S NIECE, in the Oct. 4 issue of The New Yorker, the possibilities
seemed so ripe. Hitler's Niece is not Hansen's first excursion into
historical fiction, but even so, it seemed an odd turn for him. It also
qualifies as one of the strangest entries in the ongoing phenomenon
informally known as the "Hitler novel."
As a number of news stories have already noted, the novel is concerned with
what has been described as the "greatest mystery" in Hitler's life before
he became Fuhrer --- his relationship with his much younger niece, Geli
Raubal. Hitler insisted she was the only woman he ever loved, but her death
at age 23, though considered a suicide by German police, has never been
"definitively explained."
Hansen tries to provide answers, and that's where the trouble starts.
One would have expected Merkin to have a field day with the absurdities and
stylistic whoppers that fill the novel, but while she identifies some of
them, she ends up praising the work far more than I might have imagined.
Right off the bat, Merkin notes that despite the novelist's previous use of
historical figures in his novels, "In basing his new novel on an alleged
prewar affair that Hitler had with his niece Š Hansen is leaving terra
firma for 'Twilight Zone' territory." But the affair is not the only
surprise in store for readers. The work rests on the theory that Geli, as
Merkin writes, "was shot by her avuncular and depraved lover because she
was planning to leave him."
Hitler's obsession is called a"sticky enthrallment," and begins when Geli
is an infant, the daughter of his half-sister, Angela. By the time the
young woman is 19, she's calling the man who's begun to enthrall the German
nation "Uncle Alf."
Merkin states that Hansen writes of the couple's "growing attachment with
delicate precision": "She would look up from reading and find him just
glancing away, or she'd turn when she was walking and find him intently
watching the sway of her dress. At times she felt unclothed by him. At
other times she felt protected, cherished and adored. She was his quiet
den, his twilight stroll, his hobby."
Merkin admits that some readers "will find the book a grotesque travesty
that tries to humanize the demonic." She also writes that "Any novel that
contains the sentence 'And that was how Geli met Heinrich Himmler' is
asking for titters." Or lots worse.
But the critic also has to concede that "because of its mixture of
historical detail and psychological nuance [Hitler's Niece] rings true."
I imagine that because Merkin has herself toyed with the Fuhrer in her
essay "Dreaming of Hitler," she doesn't mind the liberties Hansen has
taken. But this spate of Hitler novels is more than disturbing. I am not
one who believes that everything in life is fodder for the artist. A sense
of decency should tell people that some things, like adding human detail to
the early life of a known sadist, should be off
9/21/99: Spock's spectacular voyage
Humanizing Hitler
Merkin
If we were talking about anyone else but Hitler, this might be acceptable
prose. But the Fuhrer as Romeo induces only nausea.
Robert Leiter is Literary Editor of the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent.
5/26/99: America's new anti-Semites
5/06/99: New York (Times) Jews
4/29/99: To tell the truth
3/17/99: Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder
