

That said, I am normally peeved when I encounter narratives of identity, especially when they come from positions of privilege. I was a little jealous-how can Nora Krug be simultaneously so good at both illustration and writing?-but also extremely inspired to experiment with the visuals in my own writing. Her quest, spanning continents and generations, pieces together her family’s troubling story and reflects on what it means to be a German of her generation.This is one of the most visually beautiful books that I’ve ever read, which at the same time treats the reader to some really great creative nonfiction. Returning to Germany, she visits archives, conducts research, and interviews family members, uncovering in the process the stories of her maternal grandfather, a driving teacher in Karlsruhe during the war, and her father’s brother Franz-Karl, who died as a teenage SS soldier in Italy.

In her late thirties, after twelve years in the US, Krug realizes that living abroad has only intensified her need to ask the questions she didn’t dare to as a child and young adult. Yet Nora knew little about her own family’s involvement in the war: though all four grandparents lived through the war, they never spoke of it. For Nora, the simple fact of her German citizenship bound her to the Holocaust and its unspeakable atrocities and left her without a sense of cultural belonging.

Nora Krug was born decades after the fall of the Nazi regime, but the Second World War cast a long shadow throughout her childhood and youth in the city of Karlsruhe, Germany.

Nora Krug's story of her attempt to confront the hidden truths of her family’s wartime past in Nazi Germany and to comprehend the forces that have shaped her life, her generation, and history.
