Books like War and Remembrance

I was immediately captivated by the depth of material and engrossing writing style of this book. Despite being a serious and challenging topic, Helm drew me in from the first page and never let up.

I also learned quite a bit of new information about a topic I thought I knew quite a lot about already. 

This book, based on a true story, absolutely blew my mind when I first read it, and I have re-read it multiple times since!

I am still overwhelmed by the sheer fact of survival of the main character, a young Jewish boy who survived a massacre in the Holocaust and then went into hiding as a mascot in the SS. I also identified strongly with his son, who researched and wrote the book and encountered frequent naysayers who questioned the validity of his father’s memories. As someone who has approached the Holocaust as a non-traditional writer, I have struggled with similar challenges.

This book, for me, remains an unforgettable and remarkable read.

I love this memoir because the author was a very dear and cherished friend.

I first met Helena, already quite elderly, when I was interviewing former members of the Auschwitz-Birkenau women’s orchestra. Over the next several years, we built a warm friendship, with Helena helping me every step of the way with her discerning criticisms and fierce quest for remembrance and truth.

Years later, I was desperate for her to remain alive long enough to see publication of the book we were working on. Literally, on her deathbed, I was sending parts of the manuscript to the hospital in Poland. Miraculously, she rallied to give feedback and corrections. Helena lived another two years and died at the age of 102. This is the autobiography of my dear friend.

I am anguished by and drawn to this book because the many photographs are so compelling and unique.

Discovered after the war, this collection of images from a Nazi’s photo album detailing the killing process at Auschwitz is, quite simply, extraordinary. Nothing else I have seen illustrates the casualness and ‘normality’ with which the persons who administered Hitler’s policies in the camps viewed their jobs and the sheer mechanization of the killing process.

I knew these things existed better than most, but seeing the visual evidence is, for me, revelatory.

This book is a tense and absorbing naval novel set during the early days of World War II.

It follows Commander George Krause, a devout and disciplined U.S. Navy officer, as he leads a convoy of Allied ships across the perilous mid-Atlantic gap. I was hooked from the very first page. Over a gruelling 48-hour period, Krause battles fatigue, self-doubt, and relentless German U-boat attacks, all while navigating the complexities of command and wartime strategy. Forester’s narrative unfolds entirely from Krause’s perspective, offering a deeply introspective portrayal of leadership under pressure.

The novel’s realism and psychological depth make it a standout in naval war fiction. It recently found a new audience when it was adapted into a Tom Hanks movie, Greyhound.  

This was probably one of the most intense experiences with non-linear storytelling I ever had, and that did something to me I could not have predicted.

In fact, while reading this book, I started to turn the story into something of a philosophical discourse in my head. 

I really like how this book is at the same time utterly insane in parts—and I do say that with the greatest respect, it‘s the good kind of insane—while at the same time, it explores themes of dealing with earth-shattering events on a very individual level.

For me, the icing on the cake is that Kurt Vonnegut manages to even mix in a little history lesson there, because that bombing of the prisoners in Dresden? That did happen. And I didn‘t even learn about it in school—I learned it from this novel!

Before M*A*S*H and Catch 22, Michner’s book gave American readers a captivating view of the human side of U.S. soldiers and sailors at war in the South Pacific. This sequential series of interconnected short stories set in Vanuatu and the Solomon Islands works like the best TV mini-series. There are not just sailors and marines; there are locals and colonial characters. 

A great read. Don’t just take my word for it: it won a Pulitzer in 1947. And yes, the highly successful musical play South Pacific by Rodgers and Hammerstein is based on stories from this Michener classic. 

Michael Ondaatje’s novel is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. It is not a study or analysis of Herodotus’ history, and yet Herodotus’ spirit infuses virtually every page. Taking place during World War II, it explores the intertwined lives of four characters, including the unnamed English patient, who has survived the shooting-down of his plane, although he is severely burned.

He has nothing with him but his annotated copy of Herodotus’ Histories. I loved Anthony Minghella’s 1996 film adaptation of the novel, and it is no criticism of the film to say that it treats only one of the many strands one finds in the book. Meditating on space, time, identity, and truth, The English Patient is a book that I think Herodotus would have loved.

I had to include Alan Furst, the absolute master of historical fiction of the pre-WWII era. The first book of Furst’s Night Soldiers Series, this book introduced me to a new sort of spy thriller: instead of secret agents, these are ordinary people swept up in history.

I do love a makeover, but this is a life-and-death self-reinvention. When Khristo is targeted by the local fascist gang in 1934 Bulgaria, it’s time to run. When his first reinvention becomes dangerous, he reinvents himself again. And again. And finds love on the way. I was inspired at every turn by Khristo’s transformations without ever losing his core decency. The historical detail is so vivid I felt like I was right there with Khristo, whether he was in Moscow, Spain, or Paris. 

I was surprised to learn that John Hersey won a Pulitzer Prize in 1945 for a novel—in fact, his first. I had always thought of him as mainly a journalist for The New Yorker. One of my students recommended this. He was the grandson of the model for the main character, an Italian-American US Army major. My student was proud of his “nonnu,” the Allied military governor of a Sicilian village, for his efforts to help the starving villagers.

What they wanted more than food, though, was to replace the church bell that Mussolini had requisitioned to melt down and make into weapons. Spoiler alert: in the novel (and in real life), he succeeds—despite opposition from a superior officer, a thinly disguised General George S. Patton.