A different kind of literary courage—one that involves confronting the past—might be found in Cécile Desprairies’s novel The Propagandist, recently published in English translation. Ari Hoffman writes in his review:
The narrator of The Propagandist is Coline, an avatar for the author. They both come of age at Paris in the 1960s, a world where the war is everywhere and nowhere, spoken of in sideways code—“apparently this was the way things were for Jews. And Jews were, well, Jews. . . . That was the role of Jews in general: to give away, to part with their possessions.” The book’s center is a charismatic black hole—Coline’s mother Lucie, an unrepentant Nazi.
This novel tracks Lucie’s fall for a German race scientist, Friedrich, and the ideology to which he is committed. . . . Lucie’s passion for Nazism owes just as much to petty resentments as high-falutin’ swooning. “Her schoolmates, from well-to-do families, were almost all Jewish. . . . Lucie would have the last laugh.” She gloats of the disappearances—murder—of “all the Biancas, Simones, Dinahs, and the rest.” She reasons that “it was only the stupid ones who were deported.” From there it is a small step to “Jews were to be treated like tubercular bacilli.” . . .
Liberation brings a “great whitewashing.”
More about: Anti-Semitism, Nazism, Vichy France