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gracefullypunk's review against another edition
4.0
This was a Kindle Daily Deal on Amazon, and advertised as being solely about the Nurnberg trials, which is why I bought it. But the stories about other criminal trials were just as compelling -- in fact, I liked them better than the second and third parts on Nurnberg. Although Rebecca West tends to wander off on tangents, her writing is always evocative, and it's more like listening to a fascinating storyteller than reading a book and wondering when the writer will come to the point.
alanffm's review against another edition
3.0
On the one hand Rebecca West's A Train of Powder is infinitely valuable: it's hard hitting questions about Human Rights, its examination of the law, and its guiding voice in the chaos of the post-war make her study of the Nuremberg trials (among other cases) very noteworthy. These are all great points worth exploring, but I won't do that here. Unfortunately the book's pacing is a disaster. In what I imagine is West's attempt to explore the human dimension of each scenario through great detail, is instead a method that ends up drowning her readers in useless information and makes this book feel more like a law textbook than an essay of nonfiction journalism. Petty or not, this is a serious problem as (easily) 40% of this book's length is unnecessary and a chore to get through.
I don't think I'm alone in this criticism.
I wish this unnecessary detailing weren't the case because West is really on the ball when she talks about law, justice, philosophy, and history. A good book is able to burn the chafe regardless of its genre - and this optimization is not only simply absent here, but completely ignored.
I don't think I'm alone in this criticism.
I wish this unnecessary detailing weren't the case because West is really on the ball when she talks about law, justice, philosophy, and history. A good book is able to burn the chafe regardless of its genre - and this optimization is not only simply absent here, but completely ignored.
jola_g's review against another edition
4.0
CYCLAMENS FROM NURENBERG
I have two requests. Before you look at the photograph below, please imagine that...
1. You can't see any guards in this photo.
2. Your knowledge of history has been erased for a moment.
What do you think about these men?
[Source]
To me, it looks like a snapshot from a congress or a conference. There is nothing suspicious in these people, isn't it? Would you feel repelled if you saw them in the street? I would not. Perfectly normal middle-aged men, maybe a bit stressed out. Things would be different if I realized they were Nazi leaders, the convicts of Nuremberg trials.
The Banality of Evil – a part of Hanne Arendt’s book title keeps lingering in my mind when I look at this photo. I can see nothing disturbing, nothing that could warn me against distilled evil pulsating underneath. As it seems, it is true that ordinary people can be beasts at heart. The title of aquatint by Francisco Goya is so true: The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. Although it was created in the 18th century, its message is the best summary of Train of Powder (1955) by Rebecca West, a collection of six reportages.
The writing style is out of the top drawer, but the literary quality of the collection turned out to be hit-or-miss. I was hypnotised by Greenhouse with Cyclamens, a three-part coverage of the Nuremberg trials and author’s impressions from post-war Germany, originally published in The New Yorker, and consider it one of the best reportages ever. Unfortunately, the other three disappointed me.
What makes Greenhouse with Cyclamens so unique and engrossing? First of all, Rebecca West avoided traps typical for authors writing about war: you will find neither pretentious pathos nor teary mawkishness here. The author’s precise eye for detail impressed me, along with her ability to encapsulate a personality in a few words only. This is how she describes Baldur von Schirach: 'It was as if a neat and mousy governess sat there, not pretty, but with never a hair out of place, and always to be trusted never to intrude when there were visitors: as it might be Jane Eyre'. I appreciated occasional glimpses of Rebecca West’s wry, sardonic sense of humour. Yes, humour. The last thing you would expect in reportage about the Nuremberg trials. I think irony helps her to tame the horrors she has to face on a daily basis.
Interestingly, West is almost transparent in her texts. She presents facts, readers should draw conclusions. We witness only one situation, which reveals her feelings. During a guided tour in Hitler’s bunker in Berlin, emotions overwhelmed her and she had to run outside. The scope of her observations is wide: she describes briefly and precisely not only the convicts and their behaviour but also lawyers, guards, interpreters, journalists. Serious matters coexist with quirky details from backstage.
There are many ways to depict war criminals and the easiest would be to present them as ruthless monsters. Rebecca West took a less travelled path though. While observing the convicts, she desperately seeks human reactions, for example, empathy: she notices that Ribbentrop was trying to comfort Hess after his nervous breakdown. Besides, she argues the defendants should not be photographed during the announcement of the verdict 'It might be right to hang such men. But it could not be right to photograph them when they were being told that they were going to be hanged'.
Although I imagined the Nuremberg trials as dramatic, actually it was a long (11 months), tedious, emotionally drenching process: no wonder 'All these people wanted to leave Nuremberg as urgently as a dental patient enduring the drill wants to up and leave the chair'.
The portrayal of post-war Germany in Greenhouse with Cyclamens is also impactful and poignant. A metaphoric refrain, which returns five times in the book, is a scene Rebecca West saw in a greenhouse in Nuremberg and could not forget: 'the one-legged man who grew enormous cyclamens with the help of a child of twelve'. For me, these cyclamens are a symbol of endurance, survival and victory against unimaginable hardships. We cling to life with such greed. Coincidentally (or maybe not?), in many cultures, cyclamen symbolizes empathy, devotion and love.
Speaking of coincidences, a few days after I had finished A Train of Powder, while browsing the digital gallery of National Museum in Warsaw, I came across this Polish photo from 1949:
Alina Świętosławska, Worker with Flowers
It made me smile.
PS 1
I owe A Train of Powder ride to Orsodimondo and his enticing review. Thank you so much!
PS 2
You can watch glimpses of Nuremberg trials here and here. The moment when the defendants claim they are not guilty and do not seem to be faking at all...
I have two requests. Before you look at the photograph below, please imagine that...
1. You can't see any guards in this photo.
2. Your knowledge of history has been erased for a moment.
What do you think about these men?
[Source]
To me, it looks like a snapshot from a congress or a conference. There is nothing suspicious in these people, isn't it? Would you feel repelled if you saw them in the street? I would not. Perfectly normal middle-aged men, maybe a bit stressed out. Things would be different if I realized they were Nazi leaders, the convicts of Nuremberg trials.
The Banality of Evil – a part of Hanne Arendt’s book title keeps lingering in my mind when I look at this photo. I can see nothing disturbing, nothing that could warn me against distilled evil pulsating underneath. As it seems, it is true that ordinary people can be beasts at heart. The title of aquatint by Francisco Goya is so true: The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. Although it was created in the 18th century, its message is the best summary of Train of Powder (1955) by Rebecca West, a collection of six reportages.
The writing style is out of the top drawer, but the literary quality of the collection turned out to be hit-or-miss. I was hypnotised by Greenhouse with Cyclamens, a three-part coverage of the Nuremberg trials and author’s impressions from post-war Germany, originally published in The New Yorker, and consider it one of the best reportages ever. Unfortunately, the other three disappointed me.
What makes Greenhouse with Cyclamens so unique and engrossing? First of all, Rebecca West avoided traps typical for authors writing about war: you will find neither pretentious pathos nor teary mawkishness here. The author’s precise eye for detail impressed me, along with her ability to encapsulate a personality in a few words only. This is how she describes Baldur von Schirach: 'It was as if a neat and mousy governess sat there, not pretty, but with never a hair out of place, and always to be trusted never to intrude when there were visitors: as it might be Jane Eyre'. I appreciated occasional glimpses of Rebecca West’s wry, sardonic sense of humour. Yes, humour. The last thing you would expect in reportage about the Nuremberg trials. I think irony helps her to tame the horrors she has to face on a daily basis.
Interestingly, West is almost transparent in her texts. She presents facts, readers should draw conclusions. We witness only one situation, which reveals her feelings. During a guided tour in Hitler’s bunker in Berlin, emotions overwhelmed her and she had to run outside. The scope of her observations is wide: she describes briefly and precisely not only the convicts and their behaviour but also lawyers, guards, interpreters, journalists. Serious matters coexist with quirky details from backstage.
There are many ways to depict war criminals and the easiest would be to present them as ruthless monsters. Rebecca West took a less travelled path though. While observing the convicts, she desperately seeks human reactions, for example, empathy: she notices that Ribbentrop was trying to comfort Hess after his nervous breakdown. Besides, she argues the defendants should not be photographed during the announcement of the verdict 'It might be right to hang such men. But it could not be right to photograph them when they were being told that they were going to be hanged'.
Although I imagined the Nuremberg trials as dramatic, actually it was a long (11 months), tedious, emotionally drenching process: no wonder 'All these people wanted to leave Nuremberg as urgently as a dental patient enduring the drill wants to up and leave the chair'.
The portrayal of post-war Germany in Greenhouse with Cyclamens is also impactful and poignant. A metaphoric refrain, which returns five times in the book, is a scene Rebecca West saw in a greenhouse in Nuremberg and could not forget: 'the one-legged man who grew enormous cyclamens with the help of a child of twelve'. For me, these cyclamens are a symbol of endurance, survival and victory against unimaginable hardships. We cling to life with such greed. Coincidentally (or maybe not?), in many cultures, cyclamen symbolizes empathy, devotion and love.
Speaking of coincidences, a few days after I had finished A Train of Powder, while browsing the digital gallery of National Museum in Warsaw, I came across this Polish photo from 1949:
Alina Świętosławska, Worker with Flowers
It made me smile.
PS 1
I owe A Train of Powder ride to Orsodimondo and his enticing review. Thank you so much!
PS 2
You can watch glimpses of Nuremberg trials here and here. The moment when the defendants claim they are not guilty and do not seem to be faking at all...
litsirk's review against another edition
5.0
love loved, except for the hints of racism in one of last essays, and the recurrent appearance of "feminine" and synonyms as a negative (homophobic) description of males. of its time and all.
what i loved was the precision of description, as though she saw and understood all, and among the quotes i noted here's one i've returned to several times in the month since i've read it: "It was one of the events which do not become an experience." cutting!
other favorite:
"If a man stranded on a desert island should become a saint under the coconut palm but is never rescued, it should not be pretended that what happened to him is of no importance; for if that be conceded, then nothing is important, since humanity is stranded on this desert world and will certainly never be rescued."
what i loved was the precision of description, as though she saw and understood all, and among the quotes i noted here's one i've returned to several times in the month since i've read it: "It was one of the events which do not become an experience." cutting!
other favorite:
"If a man stranded on a desert island should become a saint under the coconut palm but is never rescued, it should not be pretended that what happened to him is of no importance; for if that be conceded, then nothing is important, since humanity is stranded on this desert world and will certainly never be rescued."
zachkuhn's review
3.0
I was looking for a historical take on Nuremberg and got...well, I didn't get that.
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