100 Books Like Dead Air

At the time of writing, this is the last book I read, in the couple of weeks before the 80th anniversary of VE Day. Powerful is the only way to describe it.

I think it’s the ordinariness of the characters, particularly the main protagonists, that makes it so powerful. None of them had any training or expertise that would have helped them to ‘fight’ back, to resist; they are just ordinary people doing extraordinary things, which is what happened during the Second World War, particularly in occupied France.

It’s a reminder that we should never forget our history—even when it isn’t very palatable—and hope that one day we might start to learn from it.

From well-documented facts that the US government hid escaping Nazis after the war, comes a brutal story. This book has it all. Buried Nazi treasure, political wheeling and dealing, revenge, greed, and ruthless killers. Joe Johnson has been hunting war criminals for years after a stint in the CIA. When a story is leaked that Nazi treasure might finance the contender of the U.S. Republican party, Johnson is hired to ferret out the truth. But people don’t like having him poking into matters better left in the past. Can these types of people ever change or do they continue to hurt the weak for their own gains? From the United States to Argentina and England to Poland, this story just doesn’t stop until the last bullet is fired.

This is one of my all-time thrillers. It’s a cautionary tale that reminds us that not all of the Nazis were caught after the war and their need for power would never disappear.

The story follows Dr. Paul Osborne, who has been haunted from the day he was ten years old and watched a stranger kill his father. Now, years later, in Paris, he sees the same man. This starts the frantic race through Europe to find out why his father was killed and who ordered it done, while killers and the police dodge his every move, Osborne doesn’t know who can be trusted. The action doesn’t stop until the horrifying last page.

Another cautionary story. This story shows that the Nazi movement is growing worldwide and that governments need to keep these organizations under wraps before allowing them to carry out their own agendas. 

When a mistake causes an international incident during a US Presidential visit to Norway, Detective Harry Hole is placed out of sight in the Federal Police Department, until matters settle. Unable to sit still, Harry investigates a neo-Nazi group and comes across someone practicing with an exotic rifle that would only be used to assassinate someone. Now he must identify both the target and the killer.

Every book list needs a good wild card, wouldn’t you agree?

This Dark Horse one-shot published in the run-up to the premiere for Amazon’s Hunters is only a few pages long, but perfectly encapsulates the pulpy spirit of the revenge-driven series created by David Weil. Mr. Weil has stated on numerous occasions that the small screen project was a way for him to pay homage to his Holocaust survivor grandmother and tell an epic, comic book-inspired story of good vs. evil.

The one-shot does just that as the titular squad of Nazi eliminators tracks down a concentration camp doctor notorious for conducting unspeakable human experiments and collecting gruesome trophies.

One of the most difficult facets of Nazism for my college students to grasp is that the Nazis had a sense of ethics and morals. It’s easy to look at the horrors of Nazism, rightfully condemn the Nazis as monstrous, and congratulate ourselves on having the moral and ethical fiber that would never allow us to engage in such atrocities. The thing is, though, that so much of the evil committed in this world is committed by people who think they are doing what’s right. Koonz’s examination of Nazi morals is an uncomfortable read but a necessary one. It forced me and it forces my students to confront the unpleasant truth that evil also has a sense of “moral” and “immoral.”

Are you tired of Hollywood clichés about Nazi culture? The Princeton historian Anson Rabinbach is your man. His brilliant essays on aspects of Nazi culture as diverse as the popular novel under Nazism, the Nazi-organized leisure industry, and the fate of the humanities at German universities between 1933 and 1945, provide the sharp, well-informed analysis you never got at school. Get started with the interview the author gave to two younger colleagues (pp. 450-480); here things become personal. Of course, Rabinbach is a pro, he knows the critical literature on the topic and cites it to differentiate his argument. But more importantly, his insights and arguments force you to rethink your response to German fascism, and to question the facile opposition of democracy and Nazism portrayed in American pop culture.  

This 1973 book got me started in this field over 50 years ago, and is still endlessly fascinating. Bleuel examines nearly every aspect of Nazi culture: male and female roles, the good wife and mother. There was even special medals (I have one) called Mutters Medal—a bronze for five children; a silver for 7; and a gold medal for 10 or more kids; divorce (actually quite common if the wife could not bear children); adultery (also quite common, as long as it produced babies); legal brothels; and of course “degeneracy” (perverted sex that did not produce Aryan blonds for the Fatherland (homosexuality, abortion, transvestism).

The movie and play Cabaret and the Roku series Berlin Babylon perfectly describe the forces of fascism trying to destroy “abnormal” sex.

Compare this book to Peter Gay’s Weimar Culture and Robert Beachy’s Gay Berlin.

Science collapses when scientists ignore objectivity and unbiased analysis, and Robert N. Proctor argues this effectively in this book.

I had long assumed (incorrectly) that racial doctrine during the Third Reich came directly from Hitler, but many German scientists actively espoused racial policies with supposed scientific justification. It may be hard to accept that some scientists became sympathizers overnight, no doubt for their own welfare and survival.

Proctor illustrates that pure science can be adapted for evil intent and that a self-centered agenda can result in illegitimate outcomes. 

One of the strangest and morally-complex stories from WW2 and the one I most struggled with while exploring the nature of resistance for my own book.

Could someone at the heart of the apparatus of Nazi terror also be a resister? After joining the Waffen SS to expose its crimes, Kurt Gerstein become involved in the supply of the deadly Zyklon B gas to the death camps.

At the height of the war, he destroyed consignments of gas and tried to tell the Allies and the Vatican about the Holocaust, but was ignored.

Prague-born Friedländer’s parents were murdered by the Nazis but he explores the paradoxes in Gerstein’s story with heart-rending humanity.