Books like The Oppermanns — picked by fans

First of all, I loved this book because the historical background Larson writes about benefited my understanding of the early rule of Hitler as Germany’s Chancellor.

This is the period my novel opens in. As Larson’s story unfolds, he does an excellent job of making the historical truth read like a novel. I loved this. However, what disturbed me was Ambassador Dodd’s inability to convince the State Department of the horrors unfolding under Hitler’s rule. While this truth disturbed me, it also gave me insight as to how this information would enhance the reliability of my novel’s historical background.

Please understand what I’m trying to convey here. This was not a work simply to help me write a novel. No. This book is profound in revealing to a reader how Washington didn’t act quickly enough in recognizing Hitler as a world threat. And Larson presents this truth in a page-turning… show more.

A brilliant example of finding meaning in who you are meant to be and finding dignity in it when others may not see it the same way.

When Stevens, the butler, realized his true worth and value, he was able to approach the world from a better place. I think about this every time I write about a character who needs to believe more in himself.

I loved Kerr’s decision to view Berlin through the eyes of his PI Bernie Gunther because I’m seeing fascism through the eyes of a protagonist who cares little about an ideology he recognizes as flawed.

It creates an interesting tension for the character—a strategic loyalty, a quiet resistance to something he knows he can’t topple, so he remains himself—true to his own personality. I love the arc Kerr creates that had me locked into his noir world.

I loved Kutscher’s artistic ability to create an oppressive political curtain rapidly closing around Berlin, affecting not only the Jews but also those Germans opposed to fascist ideology.

This dark atmosphere hangs over the entire story, and, as a lover of noir, I appreciate the author’s ability to sustain this throughout the book. For myself, Kutscher checks every box I look for in this genre.

This idiosyncratic biography of Rahel Levin Varnhagen, a 19th-century German-Jewish Berlin literary salon hostess may at first seem esoteric to the general reader. A prickly, contradictory character, Arendt’s portrayal of Rahel’s outsider status as a Jew in a largely hostile Christian society, her proto-feminist self-affirmation of her womanhood at a time when women were essentially groomed for marriage, and her paradoxical mix of intellectual self-assurance and crippling emotional insecurities make for a riveting read. You don’t have to be Jewish or a woman to appreciate the complexities of this prototypical Berliner.

If you are Jewish and have ambivalent feelings about visiting Berlin, then this could be the book for you. Leonard Barkan is a professor at Princeton where he teaches in the Department of Comparative Literature. A Jewish American, growing up in a secular New York family, his book is a personal reflection on traveling in the city. 

Berlin for Jews is part history and part travel guide. Barkan shows how, in the early nineteenth century, Jews dominated the arts, sciences, and public life and the way in which, despite the horrors of the Nazi era, they left an indelible imprint on the Berlin of today. The book, described as a “love letter” to the city, takes the reader through some of the most iconic locations of Jewish life and describes the long-lost elegant Jewish suburbs, salons, writers, artists, politicians, philanthropists, art collectors, and intellectuals. And throughout, Barkan muses on what… show more.

Peter Gay was a child in Nazi Berlin in the 1930s. I read his book to see what life was like there while writing my third novel, much of which takes place in Nazi Berlin. Gay was an academic historian but this memoir is deeply personal, laced with self-deprecating humour. His assimilated life (he and his father were staunch atheists) was relatively unaffected by the regime until 1933 when he became a Jew overnight by law. The Nazis quickly stripped the Jews of all rights, culminating in the violent Kristallnacht in 1938. He and his parents managed to escape to the U.S. six months later. Many of his relatives were killed. The underlying question in the book: why didn’t his family—and by extension other Jewish families—leave right after 1933 when Nazi plans became clear?

A true account of how the Nazis confiscated a Berlin business property belonging to a Jewish family and the actions taken to secure restitution. The story has a twist in that the claim for restitution could not be made until after 1989 because the building is located in the Soviet sector of the city.

The property was the business headquarters for a fur company and parts of it were leased. In 1937, the Victoria Insurance Company forecloses on the mortgage and transferred ownership of the building to Hitler’s railway system. The granddaughter investigates her ancestry and the way the building was lost, and then takes up the fight to obtain restitution. After several disappointments, she is successful.

I enjoyed the storyline because it is remarkably similar to what happens in my book. It provides another perspective of how the Nazis confiscated Jewish property, and only by reading books like this… show more.

For me, this was a bonanza. Drawn to time-travel stories, I also enjoy magical realism and alternating viewpoints. This book has all these elements. A bookshop owner and a talented Jewish violinist fall in love in Berlin in 1933. This alone would have grabbed my attention. But the bookstore owner has a secret–a time-tunnel “wormhole” that enables him to visit the future.

The pre-war German story told by Max is interwoven with the postwar story recounted by his love, Hanna, who survives the Holocaust with no memory of events after her 1936 arrest. As a writer who knows the period well, I appreciated the historical details of time and place, and I was swept away by the haunting prose, the passionate love story, and the inherent suspense. 

There are many books about the glitz and the cultural icons that we associate with Weimar Berlin. This one gives us a broader and deeper picture. Instead of concentrating on a few writers and artists, it anchors the city’s creative explosion in mass-market newspapers and their readers, turning our eyes to people in the streetcars and cafés and the stories they read about their own lives. We can read about sensational crimes just as Berliners did, and we find the prototypes of modern art in the layout and content of newspapers and in the chaos of the streets where they are hawked.