September 1, 2020
In 1933, Dr. Hugo Mendel, a successful Jewish lawyer, escaped Germany along with his family and moved to Tel Aviv. They were some of “the lucky ones” who made it out alive. Two decades later, he and his wife Lucie returned to Germany for a couple of months. Shortly after returning to Tel Aviv, Hugo jumped to his death.
Now, Hugo’s grandson Emanuel Rosen retraces his grandparents’ fateful European trip and its aftermath. With warmth, insight, humor, and compassion, Rosen tells his family’s story‚ their life in pre-war Germany, their new life in Israel, their return visit to Europe, and Emanuel’s mother Miriam’s legal fight to get the German government to accept responsibility for her father’s suicide even though it happened years after the war ended.
Growing up, Emanuel didn’t know about the suicide, the legal battle, or the Nazi psychiatrist the court-appointed as an expert witness. In short, he didn’t know much until he found some letters his grandparents had sent from that trip and he went to Germany to retrace their journey.
Discussion Questions
Courtesy of Emanuel Rosen
- The author’s family had some private words such as the cake they called “Darfish” or the name “Danny Kaye” they assigned to a waiter who reminded them of the American actor, “and nobody in the world (including the waiter himself) knew this was his name.” Why do families create such private vocabulary? Does your family have these types of special words?
- Each of the four members of the Mendel family reacted differently to their uprooting from Germany: The father Hugo took his own life, the mother Lucie carried on and focused on her grandchildren, the son Raphi headed one of the Mossad’s units that hunted down Nazi war criminals, and their daughter Mirjam launched a legal battle to prove that the Nazis were responsible for her father’s death. Which one of the characters resonated most with you? Do you have a similar story of how people reacted to adversity from your own life or the lives of people around you?
- In many ways, this is a story about displacement and the heavy psychological toll of uprooting. Are there people in your family who have gone through similar experiences as immigrants or refugees? How did they cope? What can society do to help today’s immigrants and refugees to integrate?
- Hugo was never able to adapt to his new circumstances after fleeing Germany, but Lucie adapted to life in Israel. Why? Why do you think some people adapt more easily to a new environment than others? Can gender roles explain the difference between Lucie and Hugo? What advice would you give a newcomer that would make his or her life easier in a new community?
- “A thick blanket of silence covered everything.” In the first two decades after the Holocaust, it was hardly ever discussed in Germany or Israel. Why do you think this was the case? From your experience, how do Jews and Germans of different generations relate to the Holocaust?
- Part of the Denazification of Germany after the war involved removing former Nazi Party members from positions of power. Yet in the 1950s and 1960s, many former Nazis were holding senior positions in all areas of life. For example, the expert witness in the legal case discussed in the book, had served in the Nazis’ euthanasia program, determining which psychiatric patients should be sent to die. The same man served in the mid-1960s as president of the German Society for Psychiatry and Neurology. Why do you think it was difficult to remove Nazis from positions of influence?
- In 1952, Israel and Germany signed a reparations agreement that generated a fierce debate in Israel. Some Israelis vehemently opposed accepting money from Germany, arguing that this would exonerate it from its Nazi past. Others (including Hugo and Lucie) felt that accepting money for what they had lost was justified. What are your thoughts on this issue?
- In his letter from Zurich to his daughter Mirjam, Hugo wrote that there is no way to maintain normal relationships with the Germans. His wife Lucie never went back to Germany after their 1956 trip, and his daughter Mirjam resisted visiting Germany for many years. Yet today, there’s a thriving Jewish community in Germany and thousands of young Israelis living in Berlin. Can Jews maintain normal relationships with Germans?
- “He never felt that he belonged in Israel, and this trip made it clear to him that he did not belong in Germany either. He was in midair. Neither here nor there.” This is cited in the book as the effect the trip had on Hugo which led to his suicide. What are other possible reasons Hugo took his own life?
- The director Fritz Lang once said this about the immigrant’s destiny: “And when he returns, he is a stranger in his own land, and this I think is the real tragedy of immigration.” Rosen says this about his grandfather: “Hugo was completely anonymous back in Germany, and it hurts to be nameless in a place that used to be home. It’s like returning to a former workplace and realizing that although you were sure you couldn’t be replaced, life does go on without you.” Does this idea resonate with you? Have you seen it at work?
- Mirjam and her mother Lucie first presented Hugo’s death as an accident and the fact that he took his own life wasn’t known to the author for many years. Do you think this is typical of the way families cope with the suicide of a loved one?
- Hugo and his daughter Mirjam shared a dream of her becoming a lawyer like him, but this dream was shattered by the displacement and by the death of Mirjam’s husband. Still, Mirjam found a way to work in the law profession, helping survivors receive their restitution money from Germany. Do you think that she felt fulfilled? Do you know of similar cases where a person needed to adjust their dreams and goals?
