Customer Reviews

Peeling the Onion: A Memoir

5 star:		(15)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Although much has been made of the 'revelation' that Gunter Grass served briefly in the Waffen SS (and more has been made of the disappointment many feel at the hypocrisy of his concealment of that fact during a lifetime of serious political and moral writing, satirizing the hypocrisy of others while concealing his own), I would argue that a large part of the point of Peeling the Onion is that there are far more serious and damnable crimes than either the trivial "service" or the self-serving concealment of it.

Grass is ferociously critical (and contemptuous) of his younger self; time and again he shows his behavior as essentially selfish, self-centered, egotistical, and especially blind to both the love and sacrifices of others on his behalf; his portrayal of his efforts to "free" himself from his family background is not unfamiliar in portraits of young artists, but he shows himself both blind to the needs and feelings of his parents and sister, as well as unable to recognize or acknowledge their efforts to help him. We might conclude that he is constructing a portrait of the kind of artist who is so enclosed in the world of his creative consciousness that he cannot allow time for "normal" human feelings or relationships. Again, that is a familiar characterization, but his narration of his mother's death, in particular, portrays his own behavior as almost inhumanly remote and unfeeling. And yet, at the same time, we have constant signals that the feelings are there, beneath the surface, later to emerge in his art--and the suggestion that the art is, after all, more important.

The memoir, then, is simply not about his putative guilt or hypocrisy, nor is it really about his self-centered behavior; it is about the creative act and the ways in which the artist uses the matter of his or her life to create the art that justifies her or his existence. Grass is not really focused on how other people might "judge" his human relationships--his responsibility or lack of it, his parental or grandparental love and generosity, or the lack of it; whether his behavior fits our notions of how good people ought to behave is really not interesting to him, nor really should it be to his readers. No doubt a world full of Dr. Phils and Judge Judys will render their fatuous views in the latest psychobabble, but Grass (and his admirers) will be impervious to all that And those who read the book attentively (especially if they are familiar with his novels) will see that the constant references to the ways memory may trick us into taking a "story" for "reality" are really the point--not that there is no reality, but that our access to it is always framed by the stories we tell about it. Those who carp about his prizes or his literary eminence (and who suggest that the latter is compromised, the former subject to return) have not read, have certainly not understood, the artistic experience Grass has offered in this very fine addition to his great oeuvre.

Peeling the Onion is required reading for anyone who wants to have a deeper insight into Mr. Grass's remarkable books; desires to learn how a young Nazi turned into someone who wrote objectively through fiction about the Nazi era; is thrilled by eclectic influences to explore a progression from enjoying art cards and sketching into writing poetry and making sculptures into becoming the author of The Tin Drum; and is intrigued by the tricks that memory plays on us as we get older. Many will find themselves surprised by Mr. Grass's revelations about his youthful enthusiasm for the Nazis and volunteering for service that led to becoming a member of the Waffen SS. The book's writing style once again reveals a man whose incisive perspective allows him to stand among us while standing apart. The book's title and ongoing imagery relate to the way that exploring and reexploring memory help us come closer to the truth about ourselves and the world around us. But ultimately, there's no more onion left to peel. The imagery is illustrated by pencil drawings of peeled onions that are presumably by Mr. Grass's hand.

Rarely does an author reveal the sources of his characters, situations, images, and locales in as much detail as Mr. Grass does in this autobiography that concludes with the publication of The Tin Drum. I feel a need to reread all of the works to inject these perspectives.

Most writers will tell you that they use all of their life experiences as resources. Having seen how true that is of Mr. Grass, I realized for the first time that for writers to have truly original voices they need to have experiences that are far different than what most people do. Mr. Grass's war-disrupted youth certainly makes that clear.

For those who find realistic accounts of wartime interesting, Mr. Grass spends more time on his brief period under fire than on any other subject. You'll get an impressive eye-witness account of the collapsing German military just before Hitler's suicide.

Ultimately, I came away astonished most by the way that Mr. Grass is able to look at even his own actions and life as an external viewer might. That's a remarkable talent that obviously contributes to his ability to sculpt complex word pictures into stories that defy memory loss.

If you read only one autobiography of a writer, I suggest this one.

This biography chronicles the author's life, beginning with his awareness of himself, the intangible tie with which he is connected to Germany, to the collective awareness of guilt through the war, to his search of truth, and freedom. It is also an epic detailing what art, and writing meant to Gunter Grass, in a life of evolving insight. Echoing writers such as Claude Simon, his writing is like a tango between the past and the present; it sways between counciousness of abstract and realism. Through the streams of his thoughts, and words, it is as if the author is slowly peeling away the protective layers built against pride and pain. Despite the sting, Gunter Grass both reveals and savors the tenderness, and frailty of human nature- the creative and procreative genius.

At a play in NYC a few years ago when one character describes to another German children burned alive with napalm in the allied bombings, a playgoer behind me said, "good".

In the shop today I was restoring a Nuernberg Trial document containing a photo (among others) of a German soldier executing a terrified nine-year-old.

And here is Grass's autobiographical account of a kid in Nazi Germany and a youth in its aftermath. Everybody should read this book.

In Plato's CRITO Socrates said we are divided into two types, those who believe that it is right to return harm for harm and those who believe in doing no harm at all. These two types will always be fighting, Socrates says, because they really have nothing in common. Everybody should read that book, too.

"Peeling the Onion" is not a great book, but it is not a bad one either. One wishes for a more straightforward, clear narrative, still, there are powerful and moving passages within this muddled book.

Grass joined the SS and kept it from public knowledge for decades. Now he has made it public and has apologized. His life and most of his political positions and activism since the end of World War II, have made up for his youthful membership in the SS.

The great work is behind him: "The Tin Drum," "The Flounder," "From The Diary of a Snail" and other good if lesser novels. With "The Rat" clear evidence of his literary decadence appeared, yet "The Call of the Toad" was refreshingly good.

For anyone seriously interested in post World War II literature, "Peeling the Onion" is a must, if flawed, read. Better yet,go back and read "The Tin Drum," which is undeniably a masterpiece.

This beautiful, almost unbearably moving, profoundly honest, wonderfully complex and poetic work will surely come to be known not only as one of Grass' very best, but also as one of the truest books on the Hitler period. With extraordinary care, Grass, as he peels the onion, explores the nature of memory, creativity, and truth itself. His homage to his mother is one of the most beautiful ever written. This is as good as memoir gets. I highly recommend it to all serious readers, thinkers, and seekers of Truth.

Whether true or imagined or somewhere in between, Grass has managed to write a story of his life that is compelling, haunting, thoughtful, reflective, impressionistic, and cinematic in breadth and scope. This is bravura memoirs, whether every detail is true or not, with passages of great descriptive power.

It is a shame that his revelation about the SS overshadowed the release of this book, as it is chock full of fabulous images and scenes of Germany pre-war, war, and immediately post-war. His tale of escape in wartime due to his inability to bicycle, or how he met up with a fellow soldier in the dead of night in the woods by singing a German nursery rhyme, are brilliantly rendered and unforgettable.

Grass enables us not just to see, but to feel, smell, touch, and breath life in Danzig in a cramped two-room flat, to dreams of glory in Hitler's army, to war, to capture, to incarceration at a POW camp, to life post-war amid the ruins of Germany. Has any writer written so lovingly, so powerfully, about food and smells as Grass? I'm still looking for a bottle of Dopplekorn. His description of his hunger at the POW camp, and how he learned of cooking while in the camp from a master chef, are some of the most powerful passages on food I have ever read.

Whether you love or detest Grass, you will find this book immensely satisfying.

I had heard the controversy this book stirred up, and I was curious as to how much sidestepping there would be. Let me tell you, Grass is brutally honest here and he holds nothing back. Do not think for one minute that he hid anything in his life -- it's all there in his books for you to see, and he tells you point blank where to look for the clues.

A definite must read for anyone interested in Germany history.

Gunter is perhaps one of the best writers that this past (and present) century has produced. His books have added to the discourse of what it means to be European, a man, and part of the human race. This book is insightful, deep, and a definite must read. Good job to Gunter, a worthy and honerable man, writer, and human being.

This is a well written, brave and honest introspection from a great writer. Gunter Grass's memory is an onion - when he ask questions of the past it is necessary to peel layers upon layers, sometimes to find that the relevant layer has nothing written on it. What is written are the early adventures of a human straw blowing in the storm winds of history - from his earliest days playing with grenade fragments in the streets of Danzig, to his experiences in the Hitler youth. In the SS during the last days of the Reich he played the role of cannon fodder for the Russians - though with a combination of incompetence and the luck of the fool he evades the fate that met most of his peers. In the postwar years he haphazardly followed his dream to succeed as an artist, though in what realm - sculpture, poetry, painting or even music - is unclear until another accident launches him as a prose writer. Throughout the whole narrative, Gunther openly acknowledges his ambiguous relationship with his parents, the many fleeting love interests of his callous and self-centred younger self, and shares with us his puzzlement at his survival and success. Bravest of all is his self-assessment as an onion - lacking a centre, lacking a heart, lacking tears until cut open and dissected, long after the layers have been set into place and covered up.