Of Love and War and Immigration

Book Review: Their Promised Land by Ian Buruma

Immigration is a hot button topic right now, liable to induce polarized opinions in just about any audience. Their Promised Land steers a middle course, generally avoiding the shores of politics and the shoals and rocks that surround them, favoring the depths of the subtitle My Grandparents in Love and War

But the immigrant status of the family is always there, a bulking shadow just over the horizon, barely hidden in the fog of two world wars and the unsettled years between them. Ethnic families tried to avoid the latent prejudice by Anglicizing their last names. Jews adopted Christianity in an attempt to avoid the 'stigma' of being different. Author Ian Buruma doesn't ignore the elephant in the room, but in his occasional sidelong glances in its direction he makes it impossible to ignore.

That is a good thing. Immigration has ALWAYS been a hot button topic, laden with unacknowledged racism and prejudice. Each successive wave of immigrants in the United States has faced a backlash from those who have arrived before them; seemingly oblivious to the fact that unless you are 100% Native American, we are all immigrants here. Their Promised Land takes place in England in the first half of the twentieth century, but it could just as well be anywhere, at any time.

Despite this, Buruma keeps us focused on the fact that these are just two people, trying to make a life for themselves and raise a family. The universal principle at work here is not that prejudice is always with us, but that people go on in spite of it. That is where our hope lies.

History, Elegy, and Autobiography

Book Review: The Mirador: Dreamed Memories of Irene Nemirovsky by her Daughter by Elisabeth Gille

In The Mirador, Elisabeth Gille, daughter of novelist Irene Nemirovsky, creates a new genre: the autobiographical novel. Mirador (literally translated as "watchtower") allows Gille to look out over the life of her mother through her novels and notes against the background of Europe in the early 20th century.

In the process she enlightens us to a part of history that we (as Americans) have too little exposure; namely the events in Europe leading to the Second World War. Writing in the first person, Gille is able make a personal connection with the life of her mother that she was denied in real life. The historical context of the First World War and the Russian Revolution give the personal aspects of the story a factual tone; the reader must remind himself that with some exceptions the words are not those of Irene herself.

Sadly, we in the United States have a limited view of European history. The Mirador enables us to obtain a glimpse into the turmoil that took place in Russia during the Revolution, and in Europe during and after World War I. The destruction of lives and property during the Great War and the financial toll of war reparations afterwards combined to accentuate political and ethnic tensions in an unprecedented manner.

On a personal note, it gave me insight into the attitudes and beliefs leading to the Holocaust -- I never fully understood why the Jewish people did not flee when the danger seemed so apparent. As any of us would, they believed they had the reasonable expectation of safety; I am sure that Irene was not alone in maintaining "I will not emigrate again." The very people that she depended on for safety turned on her in the end. I cannot fully comprehend their experience, but the scope of my understanding has been widened.

It is a testimony to the writing talent of Elisabeth Gilles that she was able to craft the story of her mother's life in such a moving way. The Mirador serves as an act of reconciliation between mother and daughter, a moving elegy for a talented novelist, and a valuable and timely reminder of the tragedies of war and intolerance.