Anonymous = Marta Hillers
She moved to Switzerland and passed away 2001. A Woman in Berlin, first published in the 1950s, was re-published after her death and immediately caused a sensation. Self desperately hopes that the rest of Hillers’s life was happy.
Friday, June 15, 1945:
I found a copy of Tolstoy’s Polikushka and read that for the umpteenth time. Then I plowed through a collection of plays by Aeschylus and came across The Persians, which, with its lamentations of the vanquished, seems on the surface well suited to our defeat. But in reality it’s not. Our German calamity has a bitter taste — of repulsion, sickness, insanity, unlike anything in history. The radio just broadcast another concentration camp report. The most horrific thing is the order and the thrift: millions of human beings as fertilizer, mattress stuffing, soft soap, felt mats — Aeschylus never saw anything like that.
Saturday, June 16, 1945:
I haven’t been writing. And I won’t be, either — that time is now over.A Woman in Berlin, p. 257
Gerd, the long-absent boyfriend, resurfaces, well-fed and healthy. In shock, he tells the author: “You’ve all turned into a bunch of shameless bitches, every one of you in the building. Don’t you realize?” He grimaced in disgust. “It’s horrible being around you.”
She gives Gerd her diaries, “there are three notebooks full.” He says he can’t find his way through the scribbling.
“For example, what’s that supposed to mean?” Gerd asks, pointing to Schdg.
“Schandung,” of course — rape. “He looked at me as if I were out of my mind but said nothing more.A Woman in Berlin, p. 260
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.