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At the end of what is (she cannot help observing) an extraordinary life, Elisabeth Rother has decided to write her memoirs. She recounts her narrow escape with her Jewish husband from the Nazis, and the perilous voyage to the New World of New Jersey, but those, for her, are mere facts of life. For Elisabeth, bighearted and obstinate, the most bothersome and consuming subjects are the unconventional paths and waywardness of her daughter, Renate, and her granddaughter, Irene. The Empress of Weehawken is a curiously touching love letter to the difficult but sustaining love of mothers and daughters. Written in the voice of the author's very real grandmother, it is "superb . . . razor-sharp, desert-dry, and luxuriantly ironic" (The San Diego Union-Tribune).… (more)
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The story begins with Elisabeth telling of her difficulties conceiving with her husband Carl, and Elisabeth's disappointment that the eventual child (Renate) is a girl. It is the 1930s in Germany and Carl is a Jew, regardless his conversion to Elisabeth's Catholicism before their wedding. As life becomes more and more restrictive, Elisabeth bullies the Catholic church into helping relocate him to America. She sends Renate to a convent school as a "good Catholic girl." Elisabeth's strength of spirit becomes very clear as she protects her family, and even attempts to help Carl's family using her family connections (her brother Otto is in the SS). Though Elisabeth is the one with the "good breeding" and noble family, it is Carl who is most scathing in his judgments about Jews, and Carl who enforces class delineations (though Elisabeth pays lip service to the idea of keeping the servant class in their place, her relationship with Liesel belies that position). In Part II, Elisabeth and Renate join Carl in America, where they have nowhere to stay, as Carl's unbelievable behavior has put him on the outs with the Catholic church. Elisabeth takes the reins of the family and steers them toward assimilation and even prosperity. After the war, she deals with the bitter correspondence from family, friends, and even unknown Germans, who congratulate her on getting out of Germany and ask for handouts. Her response is inspiring. Dische weaves the lives of Renate and Irene through Elisabeth's narrative, and Elisabeth often invokes a subject, promising to return to it later. Elisabeth is very, very funny on a variety of subjects. On old age: "After forty, if you wake up without feeling any pain, then you're probably dead." On Heinz kosher baked beans: "They came in glass jars, and the inside of the cap, if you put your nose right up to it, smelled like pork. It was some kind of trick. I believe this was used by the Jewish manufacturer to attract his own pork-starved people, and that trick is as much proof as one needs about the ingenuity of the race."
Irene Dische has placed this disclaimer before Chapter One: "Certain events and characters in this novel were inspired by real people and events. But the actual events, characters, and dialogue depicted are all fictional." If anything, the knowledge of the author's own connection to the story, was a minor drawback to me. On occasion, I was pulled out of the story wondering if the events were actually true (not just true to the story); the incidences of child abuse (did the maid/nanny actually lock the real Irene in a closet for punishment, leaving the house when the screaming got on her nerves? and, oh, the pants-wetting thing!) and Irene's wild adventures abroad (did some intervention actually abort the near-rape experiences of Irene, or is she rewriting her history our of wishful thinking? or did those scenes never happen at all?) I know that "real life" is very popular right now. Memoirs pop up right and left, and don't get me started on reality television. And if Irene hadn't been a character in her own book, I would have had no issues at all with the "inspired by real people and events"--in fact, I would have thought it an ingenious idea to write a biography of one's grandmother from the grandmother's point of view. Wondering about the truth of Irene's story was only a minor nuisance, but it did, at times, distract me from the story. Nevertheless, this is an engaging, moving story about an extraordinary woman, and I certainly recommend it.
Right from the first sentence, I was hooked. Within Part One (out of five), I found the narrator’s cynicism and complexity of her character endearing. I knew I would enjoy the novel from that point, and I was right.
It begins by explaining that the story really is about Irene, the granddaughter: “the hows and whys of her, a kind of True Confession I have decided to write for her since she has just reached a spot that is as lonely as a vacuum” (p. 5). Despite her goal, the story is really about the narrator, and what she did and why she did it. She is flawed by her own ignorance and manipulative personality, yet she is easily lovable in her own way.
The narrator often explains that the men in her life are weak, and that the women are the real backbone of the family. Evidence to that statement is presented time and time again, and it becomes apparent that the narrator, her daughter Renate, and her granddaughter Irene are the strongest people in the family.
I enjoyed Dische’s use of narration through her grandmother. The story took on a conversational tone, referring briefly to episodes that would happen eventually, and then explaining, “I’ll get to that later.”
The author succeeded wonderfully with her character development, plot, and tone. This was really one of the best novels I have read in a while.
The story is narrated by Elisabeth Rother, wife of Dr. Carl
Frau Doktor Rother is rather opinionated. Her opinions were ones I generally disagreed with, so maybe that's why I didn't love this book. I thought, however, that the author did a great job of capturing an authentic German voice. I appreciated the sort of "insider" look at WWII through the eyes of one who lived through it in Germany, but wasn't a Jew. She did suffer some of the same indignities that German Jews did, since she was married to a former Jew, and eventually Dr. Rother did have to flee Germany for the United States.
The book does a good job of examining the relationships between the three generations of Rother/Dische women: Elisabeth, Renate and Irene. I found the way Elisabeth and Renate each chose to interact with her daughter to be strange: not the way I'd do things if I had a daughter. But those were different times, too.
Again, I didn't find the narrator to be terribly sympathetic, which I believe to be part of the reason I didn't jump for joy over the book. There is a lot more I could delve into (the book provides discussion questions at the end, so it might be a good choice for a class or book group), but I'm anxious to get back to my reading
The story is told from the point of view of Dische's German Catholic grandmother who married
No doubt embellished in places, the story is interesting and well paced, tragic yet comic, moving and loving, and totally unsentimental. If you have read Art Spiegelman (Maus), there is a certain similarity in the approach and style, even though Maus is a graphic novel and The Empress is a full-fledged one.
The few things I did find weird were the seemingly random capitalization of some nouns, and the at