House of Exile is an extraordinary book, and a really rare accomplishment. Nelly was twenty-seven years younger, the adopted daughter of a fisherman and a hostess in a Berlin bar. As far as Heinrich's family was concerned, she was from the wrong side of the tracks.
Evelyn Juers brings this generation of exiles to life with tremendous poignancy and imaginative power. Her use of various running motifs to connect different parts of the story adds to the effect. It's a provocative but inspired application of the methods of poetry to non-fiction. This dual biography is the richest, most intelligent and intellectually satisfying book I've read in years.
I lived gratefully within its marvels for a precious week. Among the great tangle of facts and destinies streaming across Juers's pages, she never once loses touch with the compelling essentials of her story, but navigates her material with masterful assurance. This book has been composed with as much attention to the pleasure of the reader as it has to satisfying Juers's authentic need to own the story. I was greatly moved by it.
It is a masterpiece and a joy to read. Approaching from a distance, hand in hand like lovers, the tall blonde and the old gentleman both called out to him — Brecht! He turned towards them and waved. The Californian sun glinted from his glasses like the sword of Zorro. It was early morning. Heat and the scent of jasmine hung loosely all about the market-place.
Sunlight played upon the unreal splendour of the fruit and vegetables. Not quite real. Some people claimed the produce of this country lacked character, it always looked much more promising, bigger, brighter, than it tasted. Especially apples. They complained that there were certain things — gooseberries, for instance — which you could not get at all. Asparagus only came in cans. Not just strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, there was also a small supply of gooseberries.
