Discipleship in Christ an admirable quality in pre-war Germany

Historical novels can indulge our desire to practice hindsight. If any of us were thrust into a calamitous moment in the past, might we have responded more capably than our predecessors did? Is it appropriate for us to judge what they did or did not do? These are the kinds of questions that lingered in my mind after reading the excellent novel A Postcard from the Volcano, written by a British author named Lucy Beckett and first published by Ignatius Press ten years ago.

Subtitled “A Novel of Pre-War Germany,” Beckett takes us through a 20-year span in the life of her protagonist, a gentleman named Max von Hoffmanswaldau (Now there’s a mouthful!) from boyhood until his late 20s. Much of the action takes place in the city of Breslau (now Wroclaw, Poland), but intersects with numerous other parts of Europe through the characters’ life experiences. Along the way, we meet his immediate family, several prominent educators, and a circle of roommates and close friends. I was quite satisfied with the development of most of the characters. As evidence of this, I found myself caring enough about them to “enflesh” them by imagining what they looked and sounded like.

Beckett employs the technique of giving many of these characters soliloquies, sometimes peppered with dialogue, but often not. Through these discussions, she paints an extensive picture of the political and societal movements in Germany, such as the carnage produced by World War I, the economic collapse during the Weimar Republic, and of course, the ominous ascendancy of the Third Reich. The reader finds oneself transported to lengthy conversations, whether in lecture halls or living rooms. Despite my personal enjoyment of tales of suspense and adventure, these portions of the novel did not seem burdensome to me at all.

Ms. Beckett displays a formidable amount of knowledge not only of history, but of literature and philosophy, as well. Within their experiences at the local university, Max and his friends grapple with the works of Shakespeare, Freud, and Nietzsche both in their school curriculum and in their reckoning with the world around them. In addition, the assortment Beckett cites of provinces, ethnic groups, and leaders in the region may become complex for the reader, but I believe this information, even if it seems overloaded, is necessary to illustrate the disputes that ultimately led to war.

Lastly, this is a story with strong and respectful Catholic sensibilities. Max and his friends exhibit the searching that one can expect with adolescence. They feel the seductive pull of atheist ideologies and clumsily learn the ins and outs of romance. However, discipleship in Christ is always portrayed as an admirable endeavor. A large part of the author’s purpose is to speak to the struggles of the era’s Jewish people: she leaves the reader with honest depictions of ways in which the Church did not do enough either to defend them or to speak out against their oppressors. And while treating the most adult of themes, Ms. Beckett minimally incorporates crass language or lewd situations. I heartily recommend A Postcard from the Volcano as a work that is at once, daunting, rewarding, and inspiring.
 
Father James Gross is the pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Grand Forks.