Not in the cellar

As is probably obvious from the books I’ve been reading and reviewing on this site, the novel I’m working on involves Nazis.

Incidentally, remember when I complained that Bernd Freytag Von Loringhoven’s memoir couldn’t be about ‘the last witness’ because Rochus Misch was, as far as I knew, still alive? Well, not only is Misch still alive, but he’s finally published his own memoir. In German, so I won’t be reviewing it any time soon.

Anyway, one of the websites I found while procrastinating working has the trial documents of Irving v. Lipstadt, otherwise known as Holocaust denial on trial – though of course that was an unintentional side-effect, because it was Irving who brought the case for libel, rather than Lipstadt suing him for denial.

A few random thoughts:
- the trial which brought about Oscar Wilde’s prison sentence and downfall was also brought by him for libel. I think the lesson to be learned is that you shouldn’t sue people for libel if what they’re saying is fundamentally true…though it’s possible that not bringing a suit means you’re tacitly accepting that they’re saying the truth.
- Professor Lipstadt spent something like five years involved in this lawsuit, which no doubt played skittles with her research and publication schedule (at least one book was heavily delayed), but I wouldn’t be surprised if the trial and publicity did more, fundamentally, to bring the issue of Holocaust denial into the public arena than any book she could have written. More power to her.

After the verdict, the Observer (who themselves were gearing up to be sued by Irving along the same lines) wrote an interesting response in which, among other things, they note that Irving has a gift for historical document digging-out. This does not mean library work or even well-catalogued archives:

…Irving’s reputation has always been a double one: as a writer of history, but also a hunter of unknown, sensational documents. The first part – his reputation as an interpreter of those documents – lies in ruins. The second survives.

This is a shadowy underworld, hidden beneath the clean, bright places where scholars write books. Down in the cellar of Third Reich studies, con men and SS veterans, obsessive journalists and forgers and real historians stumble about in echoes of fantastic rumour. And here Irving is a dark prince.

Dunno about you, but that last phrase in particular is giving me Voldemort flashbacks.

Anyway, for the record, even if my German were so much improved that I could not read the memoirs of SS men but order them beer if I met them in person, I would be leaving the cellars to other people. I love archival work, and I can’t think of anything more fascinating than piecing together something that had been covered up, because you pinpointed which dusty document boxes to go to. I also love talking to people who witnessed historical events – and if I run into Herr Misch during my trip to Berlin, I’ll let you know.

But the thought of doing Irving’s research creeps me out. Maybe that’s a bit hypocritical, because we need the primary sources – not that they aren’t problematic in and of themselves. One of Goebbels’ diary entries, for instance, was debated in the trial – and unless J.G. had written ‘I told the chief all about concentration camps and he thought it was a jolly good idea’ interpretation and context was going to have to be the deciding factor.

But for one thing, the worry about forgeries certainly can’t be set aside. And even more importantly, the sort of people who are that obsessed with the Third Reich are probably not only going to be interested in historical documents, and I would rather steer clear. Even if that means missing out on a few primary sources.

We interrupt this blog for a party political broadcast

British politics is fun, in large part because their political spectrum is a lot wider than the Yankee version – I mean, sure, both countries have the Lunatic Fringe element (though the Brits have the Monster Raving Loony Party while the Americans are perpetually stuck with Lyndon Larouche), but the Londoners just elected a fascist to their assembly, while at most Yanks get a stray libertarian. (Do let me know if I’m wrong.) Also, that whole transferable vote thing.

Anyway, a friend of mine forwarded this ‘letter’ from Boris Johnson. It was not really written by Boris Johnson. It is a ‘joke’ or possibly ‘political satire’. It may only be funny to those who follow British politics. Enjoy!


Welcome to Borisville!

All left wing, liberals, weirdos and members of Not So New Labour please take the RED TUNNEL AND LEAVE YOUR VALUES IN THE LOCKERS PROVIDED

All right wing, blond haired conservatives please take the GREEN TUNNEL AND COME JOIN ME IN THE CLUB FOR CHAMPERS

All former guests and presenters of Have I Got News For You! who have ever insulted me please report to the Tower of London for immediate processing.

Please note that all London Buses are now Blue

BY ORDER

Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson
Despot of London

NB: If Schwarzenegger can get elected then so can I. David said so.

Baghdad, boots, and bluetooth

Thanks to everyone who’s offered suggestions about getting photos off my phone. Rhys muttered something about having a blue tooth, or a blue tongue, which I thought was a disease mostly restricted to sheep and I’m certainly not going to kiss him until he’s cured, or at least till the photos are downloaded. I probably won’t post any, though, because I am too busy weeping for humanity over a chalked-up advertisement for a sporting event which is billed as “Team X v’s Team Y”.

Meanwhile, Thundercat has spent the last ten minutes vanquishing a hiking boot.

Just finished reading Edna Ferber’s A Peculiar Treasure, which isn’t really a writing book because she doesn’t talk much about process, but she addresses one of the nagging questions faced by anyone’s who’s stood aside at an emotional event (visits to hospital beds are good for this), coolly trying to pin down the perfect descriptive phrase and simultaneously wondering if they’re actually a vampire for doing so:

It is the lot of the imaginative creative writer always to look on, never to participate. Or perhaps it is nothing like this, so highfalutin, but merely the reporter in me who sees and mentally notes and senses the dramatic overtones – and trudges back to the office with her story. Still one must be either a spectator or a participant. One can’t march in a parade and see it too.

True, but then again, no two people on the side of the road are going to see the same parade, either.

And finally, have just learned that my buddy Ed is writing a blog about his time in Baghdad: http://egsinbaghdad.blogspot.com/.

Technology, yea or nay?

I now have a Technorati page. Yay! I think? My ‘authority’ (= other blogs who have linked to me – we’re assuming that other blogs are authoritative? Interesting…) is 2 – Sally and Pop Vultures. *waves to them* Anyone else want to link to me? It gives you instant authority!

Speaking of Pop Vultures, where I published a piece several weeks ago: assuming that the writers’ strike does end (looks like it effectively will, though the official stuff is still continuing), I’ll post my ‘walking the strike line with the WGA’ piece over here Real Soon Now.

And on to books: here’s a good contribution to the ever-increasing ranks of will electronic book readers kill the book? (My answer: no.) This one’s written from the perspective of someone who has to pack/swap books to be read during extensive periods of travel.

Speaking as someone who packs her reading material first, and then changes her mind a lot – well before selecting any clothing, snack items, hostess gifts, and whatever toiletries remain free from the Might Be Used For Nefarious Purposes list (P.S. don’t tell the TSA they neglected to spot my Lush lip balm!) – I cannot overemphasize the importance of carefully judging your reading material. Will you actually want to read the entire book, rather than giving up on it before the plane reaches the runway? (This happened to me last year and I had to wait until we were at cruising altitude before I could get to my carry-on bag. THE HORROR.) Can you judge the books perfectly in terms of how long it will take you to read them, so that you will be on the last page of the last book when the taxi pulls up to your destination (assuming that this destination has another book you can start on)?

I do have War and Peace and I intend to save it for a special occasion, when I have hours and HOURS of nothing else to do. This pretty much means a) a round-the-world trip, or b) sitting in a hospital waiting room. I only hope it turns out to be the former.

I can see the advantage of an electronic book reader for travel; imagine having Project Gutenberg in your pocket. But personally, I like dropping books as I travel, giving them away to people I think will enjoy them, or dumping them in coffee shops, or swapping them on those shelves in youth hostels where they always have a book by an author you’ve been looking for, but it isn’t the book you want. I’ll have to risk someday walking onto a long-haul flight without nothing to read but the in-flight magazine (where the crossword has been half-completed, in pen) and whatever newspaper they hand you when they push a cart down the aisle.