Steven ConteRessenyes

* I would like the thank Netgalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read this book. *

At the height of the war on the Eastern Front , a Wermacht medical unit commandeers the estate of Leo Tolstoy to set up a field hospital, despite the strident objections of the caretaker Katerina Trubetzkaya. Bookish surgeon Paul Bauer seeks to mollify her hatred of the Germans because of his love of the writer.

The occupation proceeds under bitter wintry conditions that the Germans are ill-prepared for, while the surgeons face mounting body counts as the Russian counter-attacks start to take hold. Paul tries to take refuge in reading Tolstoy, while others resort to drink and other distractions. As it becomes clearer that the Germans are going to be routed, the behaviour of some of the occupiers turns extreme.

Strangely, this book reminded me all the time of MASH. Not for its humour, but for the portrayal of surgeons placed under incredible pressure in the theatre of war, leading them to adopt behaviour, ethics and techniques far from the professional norms that they once held. Conte sets all this in a grim evocation of brutal winter weather and a developing sense of gloom and ill-fatedness.

I really enjoyed this novel, but I thought that the final part was a bit trite and unnecessary. It felt like a clumsy coda to a story that had already been adequately told.

Berlín, 1943. Los bombardeos se suceden noche tras noche. En un refugio antiaéreo cerca del zoo, Vera, una mujer australiana, intenta escapar de la muerte junto a su marido, Axel, el director del parque. Juntos luchan por cuidar de los animales bajo el vuelo amenazador de los aviones británicos y contra la escasez de comida.
Cuando el personal del zoo es obligado a incorporarse a filas y sustituido por trabajadores forzados procedentes el este, Vera debe asumir que estos esclavos son la única esperanza de los animales.
La ciudad se ha convertido en un lugar donde un acento extranjero es una continua fuente de sospechas, con los delatores espiando en cada esquina para contarle a la Gestapo quién entra en tu casa. Mientras la tensión crece en los días cercanos al final de la guerra, no se puede confiar en nada ni en nadie.

Steven Conte’s brilliant new novel The Tolstoy Estate recreates the brief WW2 German Occupation of Yasnaya Polyana outside Moscow before they were forced to retreat.

As I said the other day in discussion about historical fiction at Whispering Gums, I know a fair bit about this extraordinary event because in 2012 The Spouse and I had a private tour to Yasnaya Polyana when we were in Russia, and our guide was an expert on the battlefield history of the area, tours of which he more commonly led. So en route, on the two-hour journey from Moscow, he gave us a bonus history of the German onslaught and how it was repulsed. It was only our second day in Russia, and we were yet to see evidence of the scorched earth policy of the Germans, so we were not then really aware that the survival of this historic estate, the home of one of the world's greatest writers, was an anomaly. But as we subsequently visited palaces and cathedrals and museums in what had been occupied territory, we saw photos documenting the way the Germans expressed their hatred of all things Russian by looting and destroying these buildings and cultural artefacts. It really is a remarkable experience to wander through an exquisite palace and then come across, in a small corridor, B&W photos of that same palace in ruins. As the before-and-after photos at this website at Russia Beyond show, not all restoration work is complete, even now.)
But Yasnaya Polyana escaped this fate because it was strategically useful. The Germans were advancing on Moscow, but were halted on the southern flank at the city of Tula just under 200k from the capital. They used the Tolstoy estate, about 12k southwest of Tula, as a hospital for casualties, and occupied it for about six weeks. In Conte's novel, the occupiers discover the significance of the building when they find tourist maps, and the central character military surgeon Paul Bauer is a bookish type who has read War and Peace and Anna Karenina. So for him, it's a bit like the literary pilgrimages I like to do, feeling a sense of reverence for the site where a great work of literature was penned.

Plus, he speaks Russian albeit with mediocre skill. (Which I can understand because I learned it for six months before travelling to Russia and it's not an easy language to learn.) So it's just as well that Katerina Trubetzkaya, Acting Head Custodian of Yasnaya Polyana, speaks fluent German, starting with a smart put-down to the battalion's CO, Lieutenant Colonel Julius Metz: 'Any half-decently educated person can speak the five or six main European dialects.' Metz is monolingual, never really discovering that he is at the mercy of those who interpret for him. Bauer doesn't tell him that Katerina has imprudently ignored his quiet advice not to identify herself as Tovarishch i.e. Comrade, and Katerina switches in and out of German whenever it suits her. But since her hostility is reckless, she delivers most of her insults in German, so that the enemy can understand her.

One aspect that I noticed repeatedly in Svetlana Alexievich's The Unwomanly Face of War, was how passionately the Soviet women spoke of their land and their desire to defend it no matter the cost. Over and over again Alexievich quotes their disbelief and outrage: how dare anyone set foot on their land? So Conte's representation of Katerina is absolutely authentic: she is livid, and she is also utterly confident that Germany will be defeated. In this respect she has Tolstoy on her side: because War and Peace is framed around Napoleon's humiliating retreat from Moscow in 1812, with 27,000 soldiers the only remnant of his massive army after the loss of 380,000 men in the bitter Russian winter.

'It's only a matter of time until Tula falls, gnädige [gracious] Frau, and when it does the whole Soviet centre will collapse. By Christmas, I assure you, we'll be well ensconced in Moscow.'

[...]

'Let's say you're right, she said, 'though I strongly doubt it.' Bauer guessed what was coming, and she didn't disappoint. 'In 1812 Napoleon held Moscow for most of September and October, and yet by November his Grande Armée was — how shall I put it? — in headlong retreat.'

'Madam, warfare is no longer a matter of rag-tag armies chasing one another about the countryside. It's total, and our strength is the greater.'

'Russia remains large, its winters cold'.

Metz gave her a supercilious smile. 'You seem like an intelligent woman. Don't you know that history never repeats itself?

'Ah, but there you're wrong. Herr Oberstleutnant. 1707, the Swedes. It was in Russia they learned neutrality. If you're smart enough, you Germans will learn the same lesson — though somehow I doubt it. (p.29)

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2020/10/16/the-tolstoy-estate-by-steven-conte/

I stupidly thought this was going to be a book about the zoo, with maybe a bit of human drama thrown in, but it was exactly the opposite. I didn't like the characters; I didn't like the plot; and I didn't like the writing style. I struggled to finish it.

Some time ago I went into my local Borders store minus my purse (the safest way to go into Borders, I find). I’d seen this on the shelf, thought it looked interesting and resolved to buy it next time, without bothering to take note of the title or author. So last week when I returned, money burning a hole in my pocket, I couldn’t find it (surprise, surprise). After half an hour of looking, I located the nearest assistant and said “I’m looking for a book about people who look after zoo animals during the war, in Germany, maybe set it 1943.” I felt a little bit like Mr Mann on Little Britain. I was gobsmacked when she actually managed to find it.

Steven Conte’s first book, The Zookeeper’s War is the story of Axel Frey, Director of Bahnhof Zoo in Berlin, and his Australian wife Vera, and their struggle to preserve what’s left of the zoo after numerous bombing raids. As the war continues, the zoo is soon the least of their worries as Axel and Vera are forced to relocate to Reichenbergerstrasse in Kreuzberg, where Vera comes under the suspicion of Frau Ritter, informant of the Gestapo. Finding her nationality a liability and challenged by the presence of POW’s working in the zoo, Vera’s place in Berlin becomes all the more precarious as her friend Flavia speaks openly about the failings of the German army and the idiocy that is the Nazi regime. As the last bastions of Vera’s stability crumble, she finds the motivation to survive in the most unlikely of places.

Erna mopped her mother’s mouth with a handkerchief. A head-cold had mottled Erna’s nose, so that it seemed unrelated to her pale face. She shook her head. ‘Our poor soldiers.’ Her voice barely carried across the table.

‘Not our poor soldiers,’ snapped Frau Ritter. ‘Brave!’

‘Stupid, is how I’d put it,’ said Flavia. ‘Fighting to the death, and for what? The war is lost.’

Vera caught her breath, and the whole table fell silent. Frau Ritter glared. At this late stage it would be hard for her to make a denunciation, but if she succeeded the consequences would be dire. Her husband glanced from side to side, unnerved by such a frank expression of defeatism. Schiefer stooped and re-tied his laces.

Frau Ritter squared her narrow shoulders. ‘I resent that. Who are we to doubt the Führer?’

‘Who are we?’ Flavia replied, mock sweetly. ‘We are the ones with high explosives dropping on our heads.’

The Zookeeper’s War is beautifully written. Whilst the subject matter is often confronting, the book is written in a delicate, almost lyrical way that attempts to protect the reader from the worst of the novel’s atrocities. It is also wonderfully detailed, providing a rich and seemingly accurate depiction of the characters life’s at such a tumultuous time.

But don’t be fooled into thinking that this book will be about the Bahnhof Zoo. As the novel progresses it becomes apparent that the primary theme of the book is in fact the way in which war and its associated stresses impact on personal relationships. The characterisation was quite strong and supported this element of the story — I particularly liked Flavia, and the looming figure of Frau Ritter — however I couldn’t help but feel cheated. I wanted escaped carnivores, medical emergencies and starving animals, though I expect that’s the animal enthusiast coming out in me (and perhaps an unrealised yearning to read Jurassic Park).

Nevertheless, I think the true value of The Zookeeper’s War lies not only in its richly detailed prose, but more so in its ending. I don’t think I’ve read anything quite so haunting — such a beautiful and carefully composed piece of writing, it stayed with me for hours after I finished reading to the point I couldn’t sleep when the time came. For that alone I would recommend this book to everyone, if only to experience what I did in those last few pages. I can’t wait to read Conte’s next book.½

I was tricked into thinking this would be more about the Zoo. It wasn't.½

A shocking insight, and an extended metaphor, describing into how war impacts the citizens of a (soon to be) defeated country. It took me ages to read this book because of the sense of dread I felt in every few pages.½

An interesting book to provoke discussion about collaboration, loyalty, patriotism and 'speciesism.' When people are starving and at risk, should animals be fed and cared for? What moral choices should we make when survival is at risk?

Really enjoyed this story set in Berlin. Brought home the awful reality of war and how it can change people's perceptions