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A review by buddhafish
The Passenger by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz
4.0
15th book of 2022.
This is one of those rediscovered classics that comes seemingly out of nowhere. The Passenger was originally published in Germany in 1938, '39 in the US and 1940 for England. It disappeared into obscurity and went out of print. Boschwitz was sent to Australia from England in 1939 because he was German, despite his Jewish background, and when he was finally allowed to return in 1942, his boat was torpedoed en route to England by a German submarine. He and all 362 passengers were killed. Boschwitz was 27.
The 1939 American publication translated Boschwitz's Der Reisende as The Man Who Took Trains and a year later for the English release in 1940, it was translated as The Fugitive. Pushkin Press have now translated it as The Passenger, thanks to Boschwitz's niece contacting the German editor in the 2010s. Frankly all translated titles work quite well. The quotes on the front of this book say 'Gripping' and 'Riveting', words I usually dislike when it comes to describing books. Or, rather, books that are said to be either 'Gripping' or 'Riveting' usually aren't my style of novel. I've never liked actions films much and hate crime/thriller novels. But this was both of those words. Otto Silbermann, a German-Jewish businessman, spends the duration of the novel on the run, on trains (he is the man who takes trains) lots of them, to escape the growing hostility towards Jews in Germany. Boschwitz wrote the novel in the weeks following Kristallnacht, before the yellow stars had been enforced for identifying Jews. Slowly, around him, Silbermann hears about Jews being beaten up, taken away, and arrested. Thus starts his running.
At times the novel becomes slightly repetitive due to the amount Silbermann ends up running in circles around Germany, literally hopping from one train to the next, but it never gets dull. The constant train compartments all add to the feeling of suffocation, claustrophobia, the net closing in around him. I read in a Guardian review that it is 'part John Buchan, part Franz Kafka', and I agree with that, I think. Overall a novel with a fascinating history in itself, and a fast-paced novel about a man on the run. It also gives insight into pre-war Germany and the slow emersion and spreading of hatred.
This is one of those rediscovered classics that comes seemingly out of nowhere. The Passenger was originally published in Germany in 1938, '39 in the US and 1940 for England. It disappeared into obscurity and went out of print. Boschwitz was sent to Australia from England in 1939 because he was German, despite his Jewish background, and when he was finally allowed to return in 1942, his boat was torpedoed en route to England by a German submarine. He and all 362 passengers were killed. Boschwitz was 27.
The 1939 American publication translated Boschwitz's Der Reisende as The Man Who Took Trains and a year later for the English release in 1940, it was translated as The Fugitive. Pushkin Press have now translated it as The Passenger, thanks to Boschwitz's niece contacting the German editor in the 2010s. Frankly all translated titles work quite well. The quotes on the front of this book say 'Gripping' and 'Riveting', words I usually dislike when it comes to describing books. Or, rather, books that are said to be either 'Gripping' or 'Riveting' usually aren't my style of novel. I've never liked actions films much and hate crime/thriller novels. But this was both of those words. Otto Silbermann, a German-Jewish businessman, spends the duration of the novel on the run, on trains (he is the man who takes trains) lots of them, to escape the growing hostility towards Jews in Germany. Boschwitz wrote the novel in the weeks following Kristallnacht, before the yellow stars had been enforced for identifying Jews. Slowly, around him, Silbermann hears about Jews being beaten up, taken away, and arrested. Thus starts his running.
At times the novel becomes slightly repetitive due to the amount Silbermann ends up running in circles around Germany, literally hopping from one train to the next, but it never gets dull. The constant train compartments all add to the feeling of suffocation, claustrophobia, the net closing in around him. I read in a Guardian review that it is 'part John Buchan, part Franz Kafka', and I agree with that, I think. Overall a novel with a fascinating history in itself, and a fast-paced novel about a man on the run. It also gives insight into pre-war Germany and the slow emersion and spreading of hatred.