Evening star., 1935-06-16


vt HAS always seemed to be of flrst
Importance In estimating q novel
to place 1t in its appropriate cate
4 CORY rather than to praise or dis
praise it. The vast output OF
printed fiction and the Heterogeneous
nature of the bundles-called novels
that reach q reviewers desk today
make this classification of real impor-
tance. For conceivably the same mail
may bring the work of a recognizable
brother of Cervantes and something
in the genre of the estimable War
wick Deeping. Both are novels. Both.
for their intent, are good-the one for
eternity and the other for hopeful
hundred editions. The reviewer, with
only one vocabulary to hand, newt
ably will feel the need to do some de-
fining Of the species before calling up
adjectives and applying them to the
individual works in question.
This need is particularly keen when
o work of serious value makes its rela-
lively rare appearance. The adjec-
tives, dulled by long application to the
pleasing and mediocre, demand a spe-
cial purging for such an occasion. 1t
may be said, then. without further
preliminary. that the first novel of
Johann Rabener, Condemned to
Live" Is first to be taken seriously as
contemporary literature. What its
young author may do in the future is
OF no import here. He has done one
thing that can command the attention
of readers who look to the novel for a
substantial art form, relevant of the
profound problems of human life, and
not merely for a vehicle for impress
sionistic satire or passing entertain
ment, the two most common novel
forms of the day.
Condemned to Live" to be sure,
has already been compared to the work
of Wasserman and Dostoiveski, which
would seem to define it pretty well.
Issue may be taken with the essence
of either comparison. In this work is
found neither the Russians ultimate
simplicity, against which the multi
tudinous complexities of life are made
so pitiful; nor Wasserman's Olympian
technique in the handling of his monu-
mental materials. Notwithstanding,
the comparison is justified to some
degree and the reason for it is per-
fectly plain. There is noticeable
similarity to Wassermann's method:
the canvas Is q large one, crowded with
vivid scenes and much realistic physi-
cal detail. But, where In Wassermann
the great procession of characters
passes before the reader with the sad
ness of classic tragedy, in Condemned
to Live" it vociferates with the anger
Of an outraged mob. The resemblance
to Dostoiveski is more q likeness in
theme; the book is a deep ransackfng
of the human spirit in relation to its
day and voicing of that persistent
"why?" which must be the under
theme Of any story of human futility
and defeat.
The action centers about the brief
career of Feodor Feuerhahn. young
German musician, whose youth COIN
cides with the era now known as post
war. the opening date being 1924.
Feodor Is of a financially comfortable
class. the bourgeeisie, but is early
spewed out of his home and cut of
from his expected birthright by
mania of his mother, Beate. With
this mark on his soul he struggles with
the problems of earning an independ-
ent living and at the same time Of de-
veloping. his genius as a. composer.
Through the strengthening force of the
love of q young Jewess who becomes
his wife in everything but name and
bears him q child lit is her familys
dislike Of Christians which prevents
the actual marriage) he succeeds to
some extent in cleaning up his soul:
but the material horrors Of his exist
ence. recurring unemployment and
poverty, force him again and again to
60 back to his mother for assistance,
until at last an impossibly hideous
situation overwhelms him. He kills
Beate and, with his sweetheart, throws
himself under the wheels Of train.
The book has already been labeled
''post war;" and certainly postwar
conditions are set forth in 1t with
vast and bitter detail. One OF the
most eloquent passages is that which
deals with unemployment, which, the
hero declares, Is resulting In not
merely the financial proletarianization
Of a cultured generation. but the pro-
determination of that generations
very soul:
People aren't wanted-that's the
slogan. Unemployment is the last
form of torture which human deviltry
has devised, far worse, more refined
and bestial form than any previous
one Look back through all the annals
Of human tyranny and you'll find that
whatever forms 1t took in the past.
men were still necessary. They needed
men In Rome to row In the galleys or
be thrown to the beasts: they needed
men in the middle ages to burn them
at the stake as Jews or heretics. To-
day they Just aren't wanted That's
the worst thing that's ever been done
to them. However much this or that
doctrinaire scientist may try to smile
away this reality, 1t remains true that
nowadays, in this century, human
beings have been degraded to more or
less unnecessary machine-minders,
and our generation is the first which
is getting real taste Of what this
means. Lots Of us can't stand up
against the pressure and we break
down. What good does it do fellows
like that to have every fifth-rate poll
tician shouting at them, Hold out!
What you need is gritr''
Likewise, there are richly ironical
descriptions Of the postwar specula-
tions on the bourses Of Berlin and
Amsterdam, and q tracing Of the
effects Of these speculations on the
lives of workmen whose nvings are
automatically snuffed out when this
or that financial giant takes q loss.
And there are also introduced q
variety Of postwar viewpoints as to
the possible bands Of hope to whicn
the postwar youth may turn. We
have Gregowitch, the Communist, fat,
smooth and glib, with his patter about
the socialist planned state" as pam
aces for the personal heartbreaks Of
his friends. We have also the roman
tieally normal" young man who sees
happiness very simply in love and
Ha1arriage-and commits a hanal sui
eide on being banally disiilusioned.
And there is the pure-hearted mystic,
Pulls. who believes In God" and serves
a r1rison term because In order that