The Ragged Edge of Night

I cannot help but know it. Against all sense, I believe. Somewhere, beyond the ragged edge of night, light bleeds into this world.

A desperate widow puts an ad for a husband in the paper. Anton answers that ad, and so begins this tale of survival and strength of the human spirit by Olivia Hawker.

I swear I didn’t seek out another WWII novel, but the title caught my eye and once I read the synopsis, I was hooked. But, in my defense, Ms Hawker shows a different perspective than other books I have read. This one is from the viewpoint of small town German citizens. The characters are not Jewish, they are not being herded on to rail cars and sent to concentration camps at the whim of the Nazi regime. They are in a small town in the mountains. The town contains nothing of value for the majority of the war so it is insulated from viewing the daily disintegration of their country. However, even in this small village there is a town gauleiter ( basically a person the Nazi’s put in control of places to keep an eye on things) , who is always looking for a way to advance himself up in the party.

Elisabeth puts an ad for a husband in the paper because it’s 1942 and she is desperate: her husband is dead, she has three small children and is unable to support herself, and them, without help. Anton, a former friar (apparently the Nazi’s disbanded religious orders, I didn’t know that), former Wehrmacht soldier (drafted) and full of guilt, answers the ad and they are soon married.

What begins as 1942s version of eharmany quickly turns into a story that shows the strength of the human spirit and the need to do what you feel is right in spite of the personal cost. To be willing to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.

Strange, that love can grow at all in a world shaded out, strangled by vines of hate.

Courage is not the lack of fear. Courage is being afraid and still doing. I’m sure you’ve heard that or something like it, but have you really thought about it in relationship to life and death. Just for a moment step back, imagine yourself in Germany or France or Poland, or any occupied State of WWII. Now imagine someone asking you to deliver a coded message to someone you have never seen, nor met. You have to put total trust in the person giving you the message and total trust in someone (s) you hope is who they say they are. You don’t know what message is on the paper because you don’t know the code. It could be grandma’s schnitzel recipe, it could be a detailed plan to assassinate Hitler. If you get caught you could be tortured and put to death or sent to a concentration camp or to the incinerator. Not only you, but your spouse, children, parents, friends, even your whole little town could be punished for an act you decided to commit. Could you do it? Could you do it if your actions could stop the evil rot eroding the world as you know it? Even at the expense of your self and loved ones? For the greater good?

Satan is alive and well; he lives in the hearts of all people. He waits, his sharp ear cocked, for the whisper from a sly politician, or a general’s shouted order. He is always ready to reach out his sulfur-stinking hand and beckon us toward the unforgivable.

I eagerly devoured this book, what a great story! Even though, maybe the part about the ad for a husband was a tad much. So imagine my surprise when I got to the end and found out Anton and Elisabeth were real. The town was real! The bells were real! What bells, oh I didn’t tell you about the bells? Guess you’ll have to read the book. Some of the details were changed to make a better story, but the ad was real. What courageous people. I pray I am never in the position they were in, but if I am, I hope I have the courage to make a difference.