The German Girl

Bond Of Tragedy

The German Girl, Armando Lucas Correa’s debut novel (translated from Spanish by Nick Caistor) is based on a true story. It is set during World War II, but is particularly relevant in the Trump era that advocates hatred of the ‘other.’

In 1939, the German ship St. Louis sailed from Hamburg for Havana carrying more than 900 passengers, most of them German Jewish refugees, escaping from the Nazi regime. In spite of buying the right papers for a fortune and being forced to buy exorbitantly priced return tickets, the refugees were refused permission to disembark in Cuba. Their ship sailed from on country to another, being refused asylum everywhere. Finally some countries took in some Jews but in the whole traumatic process, people died, some committed suicide, families were destroyed and lives marked with tragedy forever.

Correa’s novel is divided into the stories of 12-year-old Hannah Rosenthal who was on that ill-fated ship and eleven-year-old Anna Rosen in present-day New York, whose life was shattered when her father was killed in 9/11 incident. The two are connected—Anna’s father was Hannah’s nephew, though both did not know of each other’s existence for many years, because Anna was born after her father’s death.

Hannah belonged to a wealthy and influential family in Berlin, but this did not save them from Nazi brutality.  She and her best friend Leo stick together, because their schoolmates and neighbor consider the Jews ‘impure.’  Hannah and Leo watch with shock and horror as the Ogres (Nazis) systematically isolate and persecute the Jews. The horrors of the Holocaust could not even been imagined then.

The Rosenthals have to leave their home and belongings behind and board the St. Louis. The few days they spend there turn out to be the happiest of their lives, with the ship’s kindly captain Gustav Schroeder promising to protect them. Hannah and her mother Alma manage to disembark in Cuba, but her father and Leo have to stay on the ship, hoping to get asylum in some sympathetic country, but the power of Nazi propaganda was such that nobody wanted the Jews on their soil—even though they were highly educated, sophisticated and civilized people.

For want of an option Alma has to make Havana her home with Hannah and her newly born son Gustavo, but she cannot bring herself to assimilate into the society. As a result Hannah also remains detached and missing Leo deeply, even though she does fall in love with a fellow student from the university. On the other hand Gustavo considers himself Cuba and gets involved in the political upheaval that sets Cuba on fire.

Seventy years later, Hannah’s grandniece, Anna, still grieving the death of her father Louis, years later, receives a package from Cuba. It has faded photos and a glimpse of the family’s history. With the hope of getting to know Louis better, Anna and her mother (who had taken to her bed after her husband’s death) decide to go to Havana to meet Hannah.

The book tries to fit in too much and link tragedies in three countries and different time zones; as a result does not do any justice to the social turmoil in Cuba and even less to the  aftermath of 9/11 in New York. The sections set in Berlin and on board the St. Louis are the most detailed, and the most emotionally affecting too.

Correa’s note at the end of the book, giving the facts of what happened with the passengers on the St. Louis, followed by actual photographs and signatures of the real passenger on board is jolting. Predictably, the shameful role of Cuba in repudiating the refugees, was sought to be wiped out by the disappearance of the files concerning the episode.

The German Girl

By:  Armando Lucas Correa

(Translated by Nick Caistor)

Publisher: Simon & Schuster

Pages: 384