WALTER LAQUEUR
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more or less anonymous; they include books of great sophistication deal–
ing with affairs of state and culture, and others totally preoccupied with
family outings in the olden days, school life, dogs and cats, friendships and
early loves, and the escapades of Aunt Emma. They deal with the depar–
ture from Germany, the escapes, sometimes dramatic, and the vicissitudes
following the arrival in the new country, such as finding a room or two in
the new homeland, be it New York, Tel Aviv, or Shanghai. There were all
the problems of making oneself understood in a new language, a fact
which sometimes led to traumatic consequences. Mr. Schneider of Vienna,
who went to work as a butler in a Scottish highland castle without know–
ing a word of English, was deeply shocked when the lady of the house
asked him to step outside and "give the gardener a hand," which he inter–
preted literally (Bronka Schneider,
Exile).
Over the years I have read hundreds of these manuscripts, published
and unpublished, and found many of them of absorbing interest, however
artless and repetitive, even though none of them ever made it to the best–
seller list. Each story is different; yet with all their enormous individual
differences, taken together they add up to a "portrait of a generation." In
many ways I found the life stories of these young men and women (often
mere boys and girls) more interesting than those of the older emigres sim–
ply because the character of the older generation had been formed in
Germany, and their education concluded. Some of them would acquire an
astonishing facility in the new language (though most, needless to say,
would not); but in most cases, even if their vocabulary were richer than that
of an average Englishman or American, the language and culture would
never really become theirs. Some of them had already a reputation, and all
had a profession of sorts; some would make it in the new countries, others
would not. But the problems facing them were quite different from those
confronting the young.
Michael Blumenthal, aged thirteen at the time, described many years
later the deep crisis facing his parents on the road to Shanghai: they were
not comfortable being Jews, and were confused about having been
Germans. They remained wedded to German culture and felt nostalgia for
the comfortable ways left behind. But for him, the youngster, it was the
beginning of a great adventure, new experiences, and unfamiliar, exotic
sights. Despite a temporary depression, Peter Froehlich (who in a few years
would change his name to Peter Gay) did not find it too difficult in his
Havana waiting room to transfer his loyalties from the Berlin soccer club
Hertha BSC to the New York Yankees, even though the character and the
rules of the ball games in question could not have been more different.
The younger ones, in brief, were as yet at the beginning of their way
in life; they were more capable of absorbing new experiences, adapting
