“The Night in Lisbon” by Erich Maria Remarque – The Refugee’s Perspective
When stories revolving around the Second World War are written, for the most part they are told from the perspective of either soldiers or politicians.
However, it seems as if many forget about the refugees, the simple civilians who suddenly saw their lives threatened and were forced to flee from their homes by any means necessary.
The Night in Lisbon by Erich Maria Remarque looks into this unique perspective, as a young refugee boy who, while staring at a boat leaving Lisbon for America, is accosted by a mysterious stranger with two tickets, and a heck of a story to tell, revolving around re-entering Nazi Germany after running away from it in order to save his wife. As it goes on and on, the boy and the man begin to form a powerful connection, one that takes a few hours to build but centuries to destroy.
Contrary to most other WWII works, Remarque doesn’t really go for heroic tales, carpet bombings, or acts of bravery on the battlefield. Rather, he creates an adventure which has a relatively average person put himself through hell and more, traveling through numerous countries and encountering endless hurdles, many of them quite lethal.
Though we are never explicitly told why the man is opposed to the Reich, bits and pieces of the dialog lead us to believe that his decisions, in this context, are based on his understanding of right and wrong, and perhaps even more on his political beliefs.
On his Orpheus-like journey through Europe, he ends up going through Switzerland, Austria, France and Spain, encountering German soldiers, visiting French prisons and fighting against a somewhat figurative enemy.
Remarque’s style is quite simple in this book, and yet it works to its advantage. The first-person narration manages to provide the whole thing with a notch of realism, and right from the start you feel as if you are the one sitting next to Schwartz, listening to his harrowing tale of love and tragedy.
In the end, The Night in Lisbon is a remarkably simple and powerful love story set in one of the most complicated and dangerous times of the 20th century, and I believe anyone who enjoys such tales from WWII will have a field day reading this.
Though the plot is quite strong in itself, it is supported by a cast of believable characters, some of which will get you very involved in them. More precisely, the main character, Schwartz, despite being described in a very simple and relatively short fashion, feels more alive than many people in the real world, and the deeper you get into it, the more you truly fear for his safety as well as that of his wife.
However, it seems as if many forget about the refugees, the simple civilians who suddenly saw their lives threatened and were forced to flee from their homes by any means necessary.
The Night in Lisbon by Erich Maria Remarque looks into this unique perspective, as a young refugee boy who, while staring at a boat leaving Lisbon for America, is accosted by a mysterious stranger with two tickets, and a heck of a story to tell, revolving around re-entering Nazi Germany after running away from it in order to save his wife. As it goes on and on, the boy and the man begin to form a powerful connection, one that takes a few hours to build but centuries to destroy.
Contrary to most other WWII works, Remarque doesn’t really go for heroic tales, carpet bombings, or acts of bravery on the battlefield. Rather, he creates an adventure which has a relatively average person put himself through hell and more, traveling through numerous countries and encountering endless hurdles, many of them quite lethal.
Though we are never explicitly told why the man is opposed to the Reich, bits and pieces of the dialog lead us to believe that his decisions, in this context, are based on his understanding of right and wrong, and perhaps even more on his political beliefs.
On his Orpheus-like journey through Europe, he ends up going through Switzerland, Austria, France and Spain, encountering German soldiers, visiting French prisons and fighting against a somewhat figurative enemy.
Remarque’s style is quite simple in this book, and yet it works to its advantage. The first-person narration manages to provide the whole thing with a notch of realism, and right from the start you feel as if you are the one sitting next to Schwartz, listening to his harrowing tale of love and tragedy.
In the end, The Night in Lisbon is a remarkably simple and powerful love story set in one of the most complicated and dangerous times of the 20th century, and I believe anyone who enjoys such tales from WWII will have a field day reading this.
Though the plot is quite strong in itself, it is supported by a cast of believable characters, some of which will get you very involved in them. More precisely, the main character, Schwartz, despite being described in a very simple and relatively short fashion, feels more alive than many people in the real world, and the deeper you get into it, the more you truly fear for his safety as well as that of his wife.
Erich Maria Remarque |
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