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A review by mariel_fechik
Nothing Sung and Nothing Spoken by Nita Tyndall
1.0
I am so incredibly disappointed by this book. Despite its terrifying and propulsive subject matter, the book plods along at a tedious pace. Moments of real interest are diminished by Charlie’s repetitive internal monologue, much of which glosses over the significant historical events unfolding around her. While the topic of war is ever present, it occupies a distant background to the interpersonal drama centered by the narrative, which itself is often rendered in a tone that talks about emotions, but doesn’t evoke them.
Even Kristallnacht, one of the first major acts of violence toward German Jews, is discussed only in the abstract; most of its repercussions (like closed businesses) are treated as mere inconveniences. Few thoughts are spared for Minna and her family after they are forced to flee the country, and other Jewish families’ struggles are treated as an afterthought. Despite everything she stands to lose, Charlie remains primarily concerned with the nature of her and Geli’s relationship and whether they can still go dancing.
This book keeps getting comparisons to “Jojo Rabbit,” but unlike the 10-year-old titular protagonist, Charlie is nearly done with secondary school in 1938; her selfishness, naïveté, and almost willful obtuseness make it extraordinarily difficult to sympathize with her. Where “Jojo Rabbit” and other media have explored, with empathy, the ways in which German citizens fell prey to the Third Reich’s propaganda, it is difficult to find such justifications in Tyndall’s story.
The painfully obvious hallmarks of fascism all but assault Charlie, yet they barely seem to register, and her own passivity frequently wins over even in moments of resistance. The reader hears about propaganda from Charlie, but never its contents. In a rare moment of self-awareness, Charlie admits to her own ignorance; but despite her burgeoning anti-Nazi sentiment and her quiet departure from the BDM, the narration lacks the conviction that makes books like Ruta Sepetys’ I Must Betray You or Markus Zusack’s modern classic The Book Thief so compelling.
Tyndall had a great opportunity with this book to actually show the Holocaust from a queer perspective and simply didn’t. That just sucks.
Even Kristallnacht, one of the first major acts of violence toward German Jews, is discussed only in the abstract; most of its repercussions (like closed businesses) are treated as mere inconveniences. Few thoughts are spared for Minna and her family after they are forced to flee the country, and other Jewish families’ struggles are treated as an afterthought. Despite everything she stands to lose, Charlie remains primarily concerned with the nature of her and Geli’s relationship and whether they can still go dancing.
This book keeps getting comparisons to “Jojo Rabbit,” but unlike the 10-year-old titular protagonist, Charlie is nearly done with secondary school in 1938; her selfishness, naïveté, and almost willful obtuseness make it extraordinarily difficult to sympathize with her. Where “Jojo Rabbit” and other media have explored, with empathy, the ways in which German citizens fell prey to the Third Reich’s propaganda, it is difficult to find such justifications in Tyndall’s story.
The painfully obvious hallmarks of fascism all but assault Charlie, yet they barely seem to register, and her own passivity frequently wins over even in moments of resistance. The reader hears about propaganda from Charlie, but never its contents. In a rare moment of self-awareness, Charlie admits to her own ignorance; but despite her burgeoning anti-Nazi sentiment and her quiet departure from the BDM, the narration lacks the conviction that makes books like Ruta Sepetys’ I Must Betray You or Markus Zusack’s modern classic The Book Thief so compelling.
Tyndall had a great opportunity with this book to actually show the Holocaust from a queer perspective and simply didn’t. That just sucks.