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Una librería en Berlín
En 1921, Françoise Frenkel, una joven apasionada por la lengua y la cultura francesas, funda la primera librería francesa de Berlín, La Maison du Livre.
Una librería en Berlín es un libro de testimonio en primera persona en el que la autora cuenta su itinerario: en 1939 huye de Alemania, donde ya es imposible difundir libros y periódicos franceses, y se exilia en Francia, buscando refugio. Pero, en realidad, tras la ocupación nazi de territorio francés, lo que le espera es una vida de fugitiva hasta que, en 1943, logra cruzar la frontera suiza de manera clandestina y encontrar en Ginebra, al fin, la libertad. Una librería en Berlín nos descubre, milagrosamente intactas, la voz, la mirada y la emoción de una mujer valiente cuya fuerte determinación la llevará a conseguir escapar de un destino trágico.
288 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1945
1025 people are currently reading
13589 people want to read
About the author
Françoise Frenkel
2books76followersFrançoise Frenkel (Frymeta, Idesa Raichenstein-Frenkel) est une libraire et écrivain polonaise.
Elle étudie la littérature à Paris, à la Sorbonne. Puis elle part pour Berlin où elle fonde en 1921 la première librairie française, "La Maison du Livre". Elle la tient avec son mari, Simon Rachenstein, d'origine russe.
Simon Rachenstein s'exile à Paris en 1933, tandis qu'elle reste jusqu'en août 1939 à Berlin, qu'elle quitte avec les derniers résidents français, sur les conseils du consul de France. Elle rejoint Paris quelques jours seulement avant le début de la seconde guerre mondiale.
Lors de l'invasion allemande en 1940, grâce à des amis, elle obtient des laisser-passer pour Avignon, puis Vichy, puis Nice. En juin 1943, elle parvient à gagner la Suisse, où elle écrit, en 1943-1944, son unique livre, un témoignage sur les circonstances de sa vie et son exil en France, intitulé "Rien où poser sa tête", qu'elle publie en 1945 à Genève, chez l'éditeur Jeheber.
Ce livre décrit in vivo l'occupation allemande à Paris. Le manuscrit en a été retrouvé en 2010 à Nice dans un vide-grenier. Réédité en 2015, il est préfacé par Patrick Modiano.
Elle étudie la littérature à Paris, à la Sorbonne. Puis elle part pour Berlin où elle fonde en 1921 la première librairie française, "La Maison du Livre". Elle la tient avec son mari, Simon Rachenstein, d'origine russe.
Simon Rachenstein s'exile à Paris en 1933, tandis qu'elle reste jusqu'en août 1939 à Berlin, qu'elle quitte avec les derniers résidents français, sur les conseils du consul de France. Elle rejoint Paris quelques jours seulement avant le début de la seconde guerre mondiale.
Lors de l'invasion allemande en 1940, grâce à des amis, elle obtient des laisser-passer pour Avignon, puis Vichy, puis Nice. En juin 1943, elle parvient à gagner la Suisse, où elle écrit, en 1943-1944, son unique livre, un témoignage sur les circonstances de sa vie et son exil en France, intitulé "Rien où poser sa tête", qu'elle publie en 1945 à Genève, chez l'éditeur Jeheber.
Ce livre décrit in vivo l'occupation allemande à Paris. Le manuscrit en a été retrouvé en 2010 à Nice dans un vide-grenier. Réédité en 2015, il est préfacé par Patrick Modiano.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 946 reviews
December 3, 2019
This autobiography/memoir was recently rediscovered. It is a treasure and so incredibly powerful.
In the 1920s, Francoise Frenkel is a Jewish woman born in Poland and now living in Berlin. She opens a French bookshop, Berlin’s first of its kind. It’s not just any bookshop, though. Intellectuals meet here until the Nazis begin to gain more control.
Then come the rules and laws, more police visits to the shop, and finally, books are taken away.
In 1938, Kristallnacht happens. Hundreds of Jewish businesses are destroyed, though La Maison du Livre is not. Francoise is now scared and flees to Paris. Then, Paris is bombed, and she travels to southern France where she must move from house to house to stay safe.
A Bookshop Berlin was published in 1945 without much attention. It was recently rediscovered in an attic.
Francoise is a woman after many of our own hearts. She treasures books, even in her darkest of days. She is formidable and inspiring in how she handles all that is thrown at her. Her words are powerful, and I’m so grateful she told her story. A Bookshop in Berlin is a treasure, and one I’m ecstatic to own to reference as a reminder to never lose hope and to always believe in the power of good over evil.
I received a complimentary copy from the publisher.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: and instagram:
In the 1920s, Francoise Frenkel is a Jewish woman born in Poland and now living in Berlin. She opens a French bookshop, Berlin’s first of its kind. It’s not just any bookshop, though. Intellectuals meet here until the Nazis begin to gain more control.
Then come the rules and laws, more police visits to the shop, and finally, books are taken away.
In 1938, Kristallnacht happens. Hundreds of Jewish businesses are destroyed, though La Maison du Livre is not. Francoise is now scared and flees to Paris. Then, Paris is bombed, and she travels to southern France where she must move from house to house to stay safe.
A Bookshop Berlin was published in 1945 without much attention. It was recently rediscovered in an attic.
Francoise is a woman after many of our own hearts. She treasures books, even in her darkest of days. She is formidable and inspiring in how she handles all that is thrown at her. Her words are powerful, and I’m so grateful she told her story. A Bookshop in Berlin is a treasure, and one I’m ecstatic to own to reference as a reminder to never lose hope and to always believe in the power of good over evil.
I received a complimentary copy from the publisher.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: and instagram:
February 1, 2018
BBC Radio 4-Book of the Week
"No Place to Lay One's Head" by Francoise Frenkel
This is a review of a BBC Radio Broadcast.
This wartime memoir was published in 1945. Rediscovered in a flea market in Nice in 2010, we get to travel with Francoise Frenkel on her quest to escape persecution and travel to safety.
Polish born Francoise, of Jewish descent, was educated in France. She loved books, gently caring for them. In 1921, she opened a French bookstore in Berlin. The bookstore was frequented by women, foreigners, as well as the German Elite. For almost 2o years, she lived her dream. People came to listen to French readings, plays and poetry. Politics were not discussed in the bookstore. Starting in 1938, windows were smashed and businesses were set afire during Kristallnacht. Francoise was advised to go back to Paris and leave her treasured books and bookstore behind. Paris, however, was unsafe. Francoise experienced both the cruel harshness of war as well as the kindness of strangers.
By publishing "No Place to Lay One's Head", Pushkin Press has enabled readers to view Francoise's determination to find safe haven after leaving behind a thriving bookstore and the camaraderie of people from all walks of life.
"No Place to Lay One's Head" by Francoise Frenkel
This is a review of a BBC Radio Broadcast.
This wartime memoir was published in 1945. Rediscovered in a flea market in Nice in 2010, we get to travel with Francoise Frenkel on her quest to escape persecution and travel to safety.
Polish born Francoise, of Jewish descent, was educated in France. She loved books, gently caring for them. In 1921, she opened a French bookstore in Berlin. The bookstore was frequented by women, foreigners, as well as the German Elite. For almost 2o years, she lived her dream. People came to listen to French readings, plays and poetry. Politics were not discussed in the bookstore. Starting in 1938, windows were smashed and businesses were set afire during Kristallnacht. Francoise was advised to go back to Paris and leave her treasured books and bookstore behind. Paris, however, was unsafe. Francoise experienced both the cruel harshness of war as well as the kindness of strangers.
By publishing "No Place to Lay One's Head", Pushkin Press has enabled readers to view Francoise's determination to find safe haven after leaving behind a thriving bookstore and the camaraderie of people from all walks of life.
November 13, 2020
I am giving this book 4 stars � 3 stars for the writing and one additional star for how this book saw the light of day � pretty amazing and interesting.
This memoir is about a Jewish woman born in Poland who goes to Berlin with her husband and sets up a French bookshop (Maison du Livre français) soon after WWI (1921). Then fast forward (which the book does) to Kristalnicht in 1938 when things rapidly go to hell in a handbasket and her fleeing to Paris and then hiding in various places in France (Avignon, Nice) and then getting captured and finally escaping across the border to Switzerland (she was 53 at the time).
At that point in time, she puts pen to paper (or uses the typewriter) and writes up her experiences in memoir-form, No Place to Lay One’s Head (Rien où poser sa tête), and had it published by Editions Jeheber (Geneva, 1945). There must have been a small print run because it was not heard of again until approximately 60 years later when it was discovered in 2010 “in a car boot sale in southern France�. I am not sure who discovered it but after getting re-published in 2015 (), eventually it was translated into English by Stephanie Smee (she lives in Sydney Australia and translates French adult and children’s books) and then published by Pushkin Press (UK) in 2018.
The preface is by Patrick Modiano, who in 2014 was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature (very few English people had heard of him and most of his works were not in English�.that was soon rectified!). The preface is very good. The edition I got from the library is US edition from Atria Books (Simon and Schuster), 2019.
In the back of the book is a potpourri of artifacts connected with this book (complied by Frederic Maria):
� Photo of the Berlin street (Passauer Street) where the bookshop had been located (but it’s no longer there)
� Receipt for Frenkel’s trunk in which the Germans confiscated in 1940…contained clothes of hers and two typewriters and a custom-made coat with an opossum collar !)…she never got her belongings back but in 1960 was awarded 3500 Deutschmarks by the German government as recompense. The list of items that were in the trunk is in the back of the book…she was bound and determined to get compensated and by golly she did!
� Photo of a hotel in Nice France (Occupied France) where she spent about 18 months in hiding
� A page from a phone directory listing a hair salon of a couple who helped her hide (Marius)
� The frontispiece of the original edition of this book, and a handwritten dedication to a Catholic priest: “To Reverend Father Pierre Noir, with my deepest gratitude, respectfully yours, The Author. I would be grateful for your prayers � I seek inner peace: I am grieving for so many and know not where my family have been laid to rest. How great is my suffering. Nice. December 1945.�
Biography of Françoise Frenkel:
Book was reviewed by a number of literary magazines/periodicals with very good reviews.
Examples:
� (Financial Times)
�
�
�
I learned a new word from the author: cicerone (an old term for a guide, one who conducts visitors and sightseers to museums, galleries, etc., and explains matters of archaeological, antiquarian, historic or artistic interest. The word is presumably taken from Marcus Tullius Cicero) 🙃
Ya know it just struck me: why is this book published as “A Bookshop in Berlin� in the US but “No Place to Lay One’s Head) in the UK? 🤨
This memoir is about a Jewish woman born in Poland who goes to Berlin with her husband and sets up a French bookshop (Maison du Livre français) soon after WWI (1921). Then fast forward (which the book does) to Kristalnicht in 1938 when things rapidly go to hell in a handbasket and her fleeing to Paris and then hiding in various places in France (Avignon, Nice) and then getting captured and finally escaping across the border to Switzerland (she was 53 at the time).
At that point in time, she puts pen to paper (or uses the typewriter) and writes up her experiences in memoir-form, No Place to Lay One’s Head (Rien où poser sa tête), and had it published by Editions Jeheber (Geneva, 1945). There must have been a small print run because it was not heard of again until approximately 60 years later when it was discovered in 2010 “in a car boot sale in southern France�. I am not sure who discovered it but after getting re-published in 2015 (), eventually it was translated into English by Stephanie Smee (she lives in Sydney Australia and translates French adult and children’s books) and then published by Pushkin Press (UK) in 2018.
The preface is by Patrick Modiano, who in 2014 was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature (very few English people had heard of him and most of his works were not in English�.that was soon rectified!). The preface is very good. The edition I got from the library is US edition from Atria Books (Simon and Schuster), 2019.
In the back of the book is a potpourri of artifacts connected with this book (complied by Frederic Maria):
� Photo of the Berlin street (Passauer Street) where the bookshop had been located (but it’s no longer there)
� Receipt for Frenkel’s trunk in which the Germans confiscated in 1940…contained clothes of hers and two typewriters and a custom-made coat with an opossum collar !)…she never got her belongings back but in 1960 was awarded 3500 Deutschmarks by the German government as recompense. The list of items that were in the trunk is in the back of the book…she was bound and determined to get compensated and by golly she did!
� Photo of a hotel in Nice France (Occupied France) where she spent about 18 months in hiding
� A page from a phone directory listing a hair salon of a couple who helped her hide (Marius)
� The frontispiece of the original edition of this book, and a handwritten dedication to a Catholic priest: “To Reverend Father Pierre Noir, with my deepest gratitude, respectfully yours, The Author. I would be grateful for your prayers � I seek inner peace: I am grieving for so many and know not where my family have been laid to rest. How great is my suffering. Nice. December 1945.�
Biography of Françoise Frenkel:
Book was reviewed by a number of literary magazines/periodicals with very good reviews.
Examples:
� (Financial Times)
�
�
�
I learned a new word from the author: cicerone (an old term for a guide, one who conducts visitors and sightseers to museums, galleries, etc., and explains matters of archaeological, antiquarian, historic or artistic interest. The word is presumably taken from Marcus Tullius Cicero) 🙃
Ya know it just struck me: why is this book published as “A Bookshop in Berlin� in the US but “No Place to Lay One’s Head) in the UK? 🤨
January 20, 2018
4.5/ Ya lo he dicho en más de una ocasión, me parece una falta de respeto hacia el autor, puntuar un libro como este basándome sólo en si me llega a conmover o no con sus palabras. Sin embargo, en este caso, no puedo dejar de hacerlo; no sólo por cómo la autora nos muestra una Francia ocupada sino por la entereza con la que afrontó las penalidades.
July 22, 2022
This is a non-fiction book. I just cannot get myself into this book. I normally love books written about people escape from the Nazis. I am not saying this book is bad, but I am just saying it was not a book for me. I was very excited about this book, and I was sad it was not a book for me. I won an arc of this book from a goodreads giveaway. This is just my opinion.
January 8, 2021
“I don’t know exactly when I first felt the calling to be a bookseller. As a very young girl, I could spend hours leafing through a picture book or a large illustrated tome. My favorite presents were books.� For my sixteenth birthday, my parents allowed me to order my own bookcase.�
These are the words of Francoise Frenkel, a Jewish woman born in Poland, who opened a French bookshop in Berlin prior to WW11 and then survived a harrowing journey of escape to Switzerland during the war. This short memoir, written immediately following her arrival in Switzerland, chronicles her life before and after the Nazis rose to power in Germany and the invasion of France. Frenkel’s suspense-filled saga had me enthralled from the first page.
Originally published in 1945, it was rediscovered in Nice in 2010 (original title: No Place To Lay One’s Head), and republished in France in 2015.
The first chapters tell the story of Francoise� life pre-WWII and her eventual opening of a French Bookstore in Berlin, La Maison du Livre. Francoise was a Francophile who loved French books as much as she loved sharing books with her customers:
“Over time I grew to know my bookish clientele. I would try to fathom their desires, understand their tastes, their beliefs and their leanings…after observing the way a book was held, almost tenderly, the way pages were delicately turned and reverently read or hastily and thoughtlessly leafed through, I came to be able to see into a character, a spirit, a state of mind. I would place the book I considered appropriate down close to a reader � discretely…so they could not feel it had been suggested to them.... I started to grow fond of my customers. When they left the shop...I wondered about the impact the book they had taken would have on them; then, I would impatiently await their return to hear their thoughts.�
The book shop quickly became a place of cultural meetings, attracting famous artists, writers and poets. Among the visitors to Françoise’s bookshop were Claude Anet, Madame Colette, Andre Gide, Duhamel and others.
Francoise stayed in Berlin as long as should could (18 years) but it eventually became too dangerous for a Jewess to stay in Germany. Francoise reluctantly packed up her shop and fled to France. The rest of this memoir is Francoise’s compelling account of ruthless oppression in occupied France; those who, along with Francoise, fled and those who, at great risk to themselves, offered help.
In almost constant flight or hiding, Francoise rarely rested for long in one place before it became unsafe.
On one flight to yet another town with others who shared her plight Francoise doesn’t understand the inhuman behavior she witnesses of the French police (gendarmes) whom she had always trusted: “We’re hunting humans now� is the reply to Francoise question of a passerby of why men, women and children were being shoved into transport trucks by gendarmes in Nice.
Not all French people were hunting Jews. We meet many people along the way who put their lives at risk to house Francoise and to help her find safe passage to Switzerland. We observe, through Francoise' writing the despair, fear, and exhaustion that she and other refugees lived with during these times. Through her words Francoise drew a picture of occupied France with such clarity that I could almost imagine I was there. Her descriptions of what she saw and experienced allowed me to see what she saw and to feel what she felt throughout her journey. I delighted with her in the opening of her French bookstore in Berlin, in the pleasure she had in owning this bookstore and was saddened when she had to close it. I was with her every step of the way as she moved from one refuge to another and all that occurred until her miraculous escape into Switzerland. To read about her crossing the border is reason enough to read this memoir. It is not something I will soon forget.
The book comes with a preface by Patrick Modiano with nearly 30 pages of pictures, photocopies, and translations of documents. Modiano writes in the preface to the book “what makes this book unique is that we cannot precisely identify its author�. That is not entirely true. Some of you may remember by Anonymous. This memoir was also published in 2006 after the serendipitous finding of an unknown German woman's daily record of the Russian invasion of Berlin.
I included quotations about the author's relationship with and love of books for my GR friends who can easily relate, but be forewarned, the bookish parts, as lovely as they are, take up only a minority of this memoir.
Recommended for lovers of WWII memoirs and thrillers.
These are the words of Francoise Frenkel, a Jewish woman born in Poland, who opened a French bookshop in Berlin prior to WW11 and then survived a harrowing journey of escape to Switzerland during the war. This short memoir, written immediately following her arrival in Switzerland, chronicles her life before and after the Nazis rose to power in Germany and the invasion of France. Frenkel’s suspense-filled saga had me enthralled from the first page.
Originally published in 1945, it was rediscovered in Nice in 2010 (original title: No Place To Lay One’s Head), and republished in France in 2015.
The first chapters tell the story of Francoise� life pre-WWII and her eventual opening of a French Bookstore in Berlin, La Maison du Livre. Francoise was a Francophile who loved French books as much as she loved sharing books with her customers:
“Over time I grew to know my bookish clientele. I would try to fathom their desires, understand their tastes, their beliefs and their leanings…after observing the way a book was held, almost tenderly, the way pages were delicately turned and reverently read or hastily and thoughtlessly leafed through, I came to be able to see into a character, a spirit, a state of mind. I would place the book I considered appropriate down close to a reader � discretely…so they could not feel it had been suggested to them.... I started to grow fond of my customers. When they left the shop...I wondered about the impact the book they had taken would have on them; then, I would impatiently await their return to hear their thoughts.�
The book shop quickly became a place of cultural meetings, attracting famous artists, writers and poets. Among the visitors to Françoise’s bookshop were Claude Anet, Madame Colette, Andre Gide, Duhamel and others.
Francoise stayed in Berlin as long as should could (18 years) but it eventually became too dangerous for a Jewess to stay in Germany. Francoise reluctantly packed up her shop and fled to France. The rest of this memoir is Francoise’s compelling account of ruthless oppression in occupied France; those who, along with Francoise, fled and those who, at great risk to themselves, offered help.
In almost constant flight or hiding, Francoise rarely rested for long in one place before it became unsafe.
On one flight to yet another town with others who shared her plight Francoise doesn’t understand the inhuman behavior she witnesses of the French police (gendarmes) whom she had always trusted: “We’re hunting humans now� is the reply to Francoise question of a passerby of why men, women and children were being shoved into transport trucks by gendarmes in Nice.
Not all French people were hunting Jews. We meet many people along the way who put their lives at risk to house Francoise and to help her find safe passage to Switzerland. We observe, through Francoise' writing the despair, fear, and exhaustion that she and other refugees lived with during these times. Through her words Francoise drew a picture of occupied France with such clarity that I could almost imagine I was there. Her descriptions of what she saw and experienced allowed me to see what she saw and to feel what she felt throughout her journey. I delighted with her in the opening of her French bookstore in Berlin, in the pleasure she had in owning this bookstore and was saddened when she had to close it. I was with her every step of the way as she moved from one refuge to another and all that occurred until her miraculous escape into Switzerland. To read about her crossing the border is reason enough to read this memoir. It is not something I will soon forget.
The book comes with a preface by Patrick Modiano with nearly 30 pages of pictures, photocopies, and translations of documents. Modiano writes in the preface to the book “what makes this book unique is that we cannot precisely identify its author�. That is not entirely true. Some of you may remember by Anonymous. This memoir was also published in 2006 after the serendipitous finding of an unknown German woman's daily record of the Russian invasion of Berlin.
I included quotations about the author's relationship with and love of books for my GR friends who can easily relate, but be forewarned, the bookish parts, as lovely as they are, take up only a minority of this memoir.
Recommended for lovers of WWII memoirs and thrillers.
January 23, 2018
Siempre que leo sobre la Segunda Guerra Mundial me indigno ante tanta crueldad. No comprendo (y nunca comprenderé) cómo existen seres sin ningún tipo de compasión.
En este libro, a pesar de ser un testimonio de la autora y de haber tenido que pasar tanto sufrimiento, no veo ningún tipo de lamento, solamente cuenta cada hecho, cada vivencia. Y es algo realmente asombroso. Admiro su valentía, su entereza, sus ganas de seguir; su serenidad y fortaleza.
En este libro, a pesar de ser un testimonio de la autora y de haber tenido que pasar tanto sufrimiento, no veo ningún tipo de lamento, solamente cuenta cada hecho, cada vivencia. Y es algo realmente asombroso. Admiro su valentía, su entereza, sus ganas de seguir; su serenidad y fortaleza.
"Es deber de los supervivientes rendir testimonio con el fin de que los muertos no sean olvidados ni los oscuros sacrificios sean desconocidos."
August 4, 2022
This is not about a bookshop. A love of books may have been part of what sustained Francoise Frenkel, however, through her relentless struggle as a Jewish woman to survive Nazi persecution.
It begins in Berlin, where this Paris-educated Polish woman has decided to pursue her heart’s desire to run a bookshop.
“I loved my bookstore the way a woman loves, that is to say, truly.�
She opens the first French bookshop in Berlin in 1921, and stays through the ramping up of Nazi ideology. Only after Kristallnacht does she make the difficult decision to flee Berlin for Paris in 1939. The persecution follows her, however. One refuge becomes unsafe, and she is forced to find another. She has a deep love for France and the people who help her, and after several harrowing attempts, finally makes it to safety in Switzerland.
If this had been fiction, I would have suspected it to be a tragedy, because as I read, it seemed unlikely the heroine would survive. It’s true she was vigilant and perceptive. Her connections to France helped. And she did attract loyal friends. But she makes clear that her survival to write this memoir relied on a tremendous amount of luck that many did not have.
“Consequently, the number of escapes fell very quickly. Exhausted by the hardships they were enduring and weakened by their long confinement and the resulting inertia, the refugees had been sapped of their energy. Escape felt like a considerable undertaking with all-too-unpredictable results. Resigned, they ended up passively awaiting their fate, abandoning their plans and, at the same time, all hope.�
An important historical document and a detailed, matter-of-fact account of perseverance in the face of torment.
It begins in Berlin, where this Paris-educated Polish woman has decided to pursue her heart’s desire to run a bookshop.
“I loved my bookstore the way a woman loves, that is to say, truly.�
She opens the first French bookshop in Berlin in 1921, and stays through the ramping up of Nazi ideology. Only after Kristallnacht does she make the difficult decision to flee Berlin for Paris in 1939. The persecution follows her, however. One refuge becomes unsafe, and she is forced to find another. She has a deep love for France and the people who help her, and after several harrowing attempts, finally makes it to safety in Switzerland.
If this had been fiction, I would have suspected it to be a tragedy, because as I read, it seemed unlikely the heroine would survive. It’s true she was vigilant and perceptive. Her connections to France helped. And she did attract loyal friends. But she makes clear that her survival to write this memoir relied on a tremendous amount of luck that many did not have.
“Consequently, the number of escapes fell very quickly. Exhausted by the hardships they were enduring and weakened by their long confinement and the resulting inertia, the refugees had been sapped of their energy. Escape felt like a considerable undertaking with all-too-unpredictable results. Resigned, they ended up passively awaiting their fate, abandoning their plans and, at the same time, all hope.�
An important historical document and a detailed, matter-of-fact account of perseverance in the face of torment.
March 11, 2020
This is an amazing story. It is very well written and reads very smoothly for a true diary account. It is a slightly different perspective from the Nazi holocaust, but not any less poignant.
Note: I was given a complimentary hard copy by the publisher for an honest review.
Note: I was given a complimentary hard copy by the publisher for an honest review.
January 8, 2021
3.5 stars
The title of this drew me in right away and the fact that it was a lost memoir found added to the intrigue, so naturally I had to read it as WW2 has been a favorite topic for years. Each memoir is unique and I believe that is what makes the stories important to read. No one person lived the exact same experience. In A Bookshop in Berlin, Francoise Frenkel tells her story of how a Polish woman of Jewish descent turns her passion for French literature into her dream of owning a French bookshop in Berlin.
In the first few chapters, the bookshop, La Maison du Livre, is opened in 1921 and is frequented by many celebrities and well-known artists and diplomats. It becomes quite popular until the Nazi beliefs and ideas began to change the culture of the city. Jump forward in time to Kristallnacht when in 1938, hundreds of Jewish shops are destroyed, although Frenkel’s shop is spared, she is fearful, sadly packs up her favored books and flees to Paris. Thus begins the story of her years of moving around France to avoid persecution. She is aided by several good friends who do all that they can to get her to safe places in the south and help her to eventually get to Switzerland. Most of the story involves Frenkel’s experiences while trying to live safely in France. She lived as a refugee and witnessed the change in attitude of many French officers (gendarmes) which was bewildering. It was heartbreaking for her to grasp the maltreatment she witnessed. Once the Vichy government was put into place, Frenkel wound up hiding in different places in order to avoid being sent to concentration camps.
There is really very little told about her life before this or of her relationship with her husband whom she opened the shop with and who was deported in 1933. He went back to Paris but died in Auschwitz. Her mother and family members are mentioned and she talks of wanting to see them again but no correspondence is ever mentioned. Frenkel was 53 when she crossed into Switzerland on her third attempt.
The title of this drew me in right away and the fact that it was a lost memoir found added to the intrigue, so naturally I had to read it as WW2 has been a favorite topic for years. Each memoir is unique and I believe that is what makes the stories important to read. No one person lived the exact same experience. In A Bookshop in Berlin, Francoise Frenkel tells her story of how a Polish woman of Jewish descent turns her passion for French literature into her dream of owning a French bookshop in Berlin.
In the first few chapters, the bookshop, La Maison du Livre, is opened in 1921 and is frequented by many celebrities and well-known artists and diplomats. It becomes quite popular until the Nazi beliefs and ideas began to change the culture of the city. Jump forward in time to Kristallnacht when in 1938, hundreds of Jewish shops are destroyed, although Frenkel’s shop is spared, she is fearful, sadly packs up her favored books and flees to Paris. Thus begins the story of her years of moving around France to avoid persecution. She is aided by several good friends who do all that they can to get her to safe places in the south and help her to eventually get to Switzerland. Most of the story involves Frenkel’s experiences while trying to live safely in France. She lived as a refugee and witnessed the change in attitude of many French officers (gendarmes) which was bewildering. It was heartbreaking for her to grasp the maltreatment she witnessed. Once the Vichy government was put into place, Frenkel wound up hiding in different places in order to avoid being sent to concentration camps.
There is really very little told about her life before this or of her relationship with her husband whom she opened the shop with and who was deported in 1933. He went back to Paris but died in Auschwitz. Her mother and family members are mentioned and she talks of wanting to see them again but no correspondence is ever mentioned. Frenkel was 53 when she crossed into Switzerland on her third attempt.
December 10, 2019
Françoise Frenkel always loved books, libraries, and especially bookstores.
Her dream was to open a bookstore, but would her dream about opening a French bookstore in Berlin in 1920 be a good idea?
She was successful until 1935 when the police started showing up and confiscating books from her shelves and newspapers because they had been blacklisted.
Besides scrutinizing her books, they questioned her travels. This was just the beginning of her hardships and ordeals.
A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN tells the story of Francoise Frenkel's life and her love of books, her bookshop, and France. We follow her as she lives through occupied France and endures what the European people had to deal with. Unthinkable, unpleasant misery and situations plagued her and all people during this time.
A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN is a treasure for historical fiction fans as well as book lovers.
I normally do not read memoirs, but A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN is very well done and educational.
You were easily put into Francoise’s situations and her emotions were yours. 5/5
This book was given to me by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Her dream was to open a bookstore, but would her dream about opening a French bookstore in Berlin in 1920 be a good idea?
She was successful until 1935 when the police started showing up and confiscating books from her shelves and newspapers because they had been blacklisted.
Besides scrutinizing her books, they questioned her travels. This was just the beginning of her hardships and ordeals.
A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN tells the story of Francoise Frenkel's life and her love of books, her bookshop, and France. We follow her as she lives through occupied France and endures what the European people had to deal with. Unthinkable, unpleasant misery and situations plagued her and all people during this time.
A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN is a treasure for historical fiction fans as well as book lovers.
I normally do not read memoirs, but A BOOKSHOP IN BERLIN is very well done and educational.
You were easily put into Francoise’s situations and her emotions were yours. 5/5
This book was given to me by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
March 4, 2021
3 stars
This book was also published under the name .
I vacillated back and forth between liking this book and not liking this book. I felt at times that it was really hard to understand - or hard to understand why some of the information was added to this book. I think the fact that this was a lost manuscript for 60 years was probably the most appealing.
Françoise Frenkel, a Jewish woman from Poland, opens a French bookstore in Paris just before World Ward II started. As the Germans invaded France she fled - leaving her bookstore unprotected. It did survive the bombings of Paris.
The story then goes on to tell how she moved around to flee from the horror of the Nazi reign, how she dealt with the loss of her trunk full of possessions, finally ending up in Nice, where she died in 1975.
This book was less about her bookstore than about her life and run from persecution. It had some moving sections and some fairly boring sections.
This book was also published under the name .
I vacillated back and forth between liking this book and not liking this book. I felt at times that it was really hard to understand - or hard to understand why some of the information was added to this book. I think the fact that this was a lost manuscript for 60 years was probably the most appealing.
Françoise Frenkel, a Jewish woman from Poland, opens a French bookstore in Paris just before World Ward II started. As the Germans invaded France she fled - leaving her bookstore unprotected. It did survive the bombings of Paris.
The story then goes on to tell how she moved around to flee from the horror of the Nazi reign, how she dealt with the loss of her trunk full of possessions, finally ending up in Nice, where she died in 1975.
This book was less about her bookstore than about her life and run from persecution. It had some moving sections and some fairly boring sections.
April 14, 2022
[3.5] The events in this memoir tread familiar ground (for any reader of WWII history and literature). A French Jewish woman flees Berlin, then France to escape persecution. I felt a glaze come over me as I started to read. But the unusual immediacy of the book woke me up. Written between 1943 and 1945, Frenkel is still feeling the shock of the terrifying events she has so recently experienced. The bookshop in the title (which plays a disappointedly minor role) attracted me to the book, but I stayed for the writing.
January 31, 2019
Fittingly, I finished reading this on Sunday, which was International Holocaust Remembrance Day. Even after seven decades, we’re still unearthing new Holocaust narratives, such as this one: rediscovered in a flea market in 2010, it was republished in French in 2015 and first became available in English translation in 2017.
Born Frymeta Idesa Frenkel in Poland, the author (1889�1975) was a Jew who opened the first French-language bookstore in Berlin in 1921. After Kristallnacht and the seizure of her stock and furniture, she left for France and a succession of makeshift situations, mostly in Avignon and Nice. She lived in a hotel, a chateau, and the spare room of a sewing machinist whose four cats generously shared their fleas. All along, the Mariuses, a pair of hairdressers, were like guardian angels she could go back to between emergency placements.
This memoir showcases the familiar continuum of uneasiness blooming into downright horror as people realized what was going on in Europe. To start with one could downplay the inconveniences of having belongings confiscated and work permits denied, of squeezing onto packed trains and being turned back at closed borders. Only gradually, as rumors spread of what was happening to deported Jews, did Frenkel understand how much danger she was in.
The second half of the book is more exciting than the first, especially after Frenkel is arrested at the Swiss border. (Even though you know she makes it out alive.) Her pen portraits of her fellow detainees show real empathy as well as writing talent. Strangely, Frenkel never mentions her husband, who went into exile in France in 1933 and died in Auschwitz in 1942. I would also have liked to hear more about her 17 years of normal bookselling life before everything kicked off. Still, this is a valuable glimpse into the events of the time, and a comparable read to Władysław Szpilman’s The Pianist.
Originally published on my blog, .
Born Frymeta Idesa Frenkel in Poland, the author (1889�1975) was a Jew who opened the first French-language bookstore in Berlin in 1921. After Kristallnacht and the seizure of her stock and furniture, she left for France and a succession of makeshift situations, mostly in Avignon and Nice. She lived in a hotel, a chateau, and the spare room of a sewing machinist whose four cats generously shared their fleas. All along, the Mariuses, a pair of hairdressers, were like guardian angels she could go back to between emergency placements.
This memoir showcases the familiar continuum of uneasiness blooming into downright horror as people realized what was going on in Europe. To start with one could downplay the inconveniences of having belongings confiscated and work permits denied, of squeezing onto packed trains and being turned back at closed borders. Only gradually, as rumors spread of what was happening to deported Jews, did Frenkel understand how much danger she was in.
The second half of the book is more exciting than the first, especially after Frenkel is arrested at the Swiss border. (Even though you know she makes it out alive.) Her pen portraits of her fellow detainees show real empathy as well as writing talent. Strangely, Frenkel never mentions her husband, who went into exile in France in 1933 and died in Auschwitz in 1942. I would also have liked to hear more about her 17 years of normal bookselling life before everything kicked off. Still, this is a valuable glimpse into the events of the time, and a comparable read to Władysław Szpilman’s The Pianist.
Originally published on my blog, .
February 6, 2018
Description: Francoise Frenkel's real life account of flight from Berlin on the 'night of broken glass', is abridged in five parts by Katrin Williams and translated by Stephanie Smee.
The author had a thriving bookshop in Berlin, selling French editions, newspapers and magazines. Society types and celebrities would drop by to browse, buy and socialise. Then 1935 heralded a dark dawn..
June 5, 2020
I read this for a book club. It was fine. I always feel bad rating memoirs poorly, especially when they deal with serious subject matter, but this was pretty forgettable for me. There's nothing wrong with it but I just think there are better memoirs out there.
I think it's also worth noting that this has very little to do with a bookshop. This isn't a book about books, which I thought it might be when I went into it. The author had started a bookshop when she had to go into hiding. Most of the book takes place after that.
I think it's also worth noting that this has very little to do with a bookshop. This isn't a book about books, which I thought it might be when I went into it. The author had started a bookshop when she had to go into hiding. Most of the book takes place after that.
May 20, 2017
Una novela muy interesante, llena de misterios y anécdotas
December 24, 2019
3.5 thoughts soon.
October 26, 2018
Existen muchos testimonios de las víctimas de la persecución nazi y del Holocausto, pero creo que es el tipo de historias que jamás serán iguales por mucho que se cuenten y que tenemos la tarea de no olvidar. Una librería en Berlín es justamente el testimonio de Françoise Frenkel, una polaca judía, y de sus años de peregrinaje y angustia por Francia tratando de evadir la detención y la deportación a los campos de concentración. La historia de esta mujer es un poco distinta a las que yo había leído, ya que resulta evidente que Françoise era rica, culta y con ciertos medios y conexiones que le dieron otras oportunidades y una perspectiva distinta de vivir y contar su tragedia. En este contexto, me sorprendió encontrar que la narración es sumamente poética, dentro de un contexto tan oscuro como fue la persecución a los judíos. Puedo intuir que Françoise era una mujer que amaba la vida, optimista y fuerte, si bien su tono puede deberse a que, al momento de escribir este texto, aun no eran descubiertos en su totalidad los crímenes nazis.
La historia comienza describiendo el amor de Françoise por los libros, sus estudios en París y sus recorridos a lo largo del río visitando libreros de viejo; posteriormente nos traslada al Berlín de la década de 1920 en donde ella establece la primera librería francesa en la capital alemana y nos relata casi 15 años de luchas, pero también de prosperidad pues el lugar se convirtió en el punto de encuentro para la comunidad francesa y para otros diplomáticos. No obstante, con el ascenso del régimen nacionalsocialista al poder, las cosas empezaron a cambiar. Después del saqueo a los negocios judíos -del cual el suyo se salva milagrosamente, Françoise sabe que no tiene nada más que hacer en Berlín. De esta manera se traslada a París en donde por un tiempo está a salvo, pero unos escasos meses después, debe huir nuevamente, empezando así un desplazamiento constante.
De ahí va a Niza, en donde pasa casi dos años, gracias al apoyo de un profesor suyo y de vecinos y amigos; franceses que se oponían al régimen alemán y al contubernio con el gobierno francés y que eran personas valientes y duras. La estancia en Niza, a pesar de todos los sinsabores, es narrada de forma exquisita: la autora podía, en medio de la desazón, caminar por las calles de la pequeña ciudad; dejarse transportar a la Edad Media; tomar un café con una mujer mayor durante las tardes en la ciudad tranquila. Creo que este tipo de consuelos son fundamentales para el alma en situaciones de peligro o pesadumbre pues sin ellos, nos sería imposible seguir adelante.
Al abandonar Niza, Françoise cuenta con una visa y un salvoconducto para llegar a Suiza, pero la tarea no es fácil. Las fronteras son vigiladas y debe cruzar de manera ilegal. Esta es la parte más estresante del libro: está tan cerca de poder cruzar y sus intentos se ven frustrados varias veces. Finalmente, lo logra y aquí concluye el libro y este testimonio. En realidad se me detuvo el corazón un poco en los momentos finales� por suerte sabemos que ella logró cruzar.
Lo vivido por Françoise no fue fácil y si bien podríamos alegrarnos de que la autora evitó la deportación y con ello, los horrores de los campos de concentración, no por ello su tragedia es menos impactante: años escondiéndose, alejada de su profesión y de sus libros, y más grave aún, de sus seres queridos. La introducción y el epilogo nos indican que ella estuvo casada pero su marido falleció en 1942 en un campo de concentración; al momento de escribir esta memoria, Françoise esperaba tener noticias de su familia en Polonia pero, al parecer, nadie le sobrevivió. Quizá lo más intrigante -o por lo menos para mí- resulte el hecho que este texto fue el único publicado por la autora y que poco se sabe de ella después de la publicación de éste. Nunca volvió a escribir -o por lo menos nada ha sobrevivido. Este texto fue encontrado en una venta de libros de segunda mano y rescatado. ¿Por qué nunca volvió a escribir? ¿Regresó en algún momento a Polonia? ¿Volvió a abrir una librería, quizá esta vez en un pueblito pintoresco del sur de Francia? Nunca lo sabremos y coincido, como Patrick Modiano quien escribe el prólogo de esta edición, que:
He de hacer solo una ligera confesión y una advertencia. A mitad del libro comencé a sentirme algo decepcionado ya que, salvo las primeras páginas, nunca más se volvió a hablar del oficio de librera de la autora, ni de su amor por los libros. Era obvio que como perseguida jamás podría volver a trabajar en ello, pero entonces, me di cuenta de que el título del libro en español es suma, descaradamente, engañoso pues no es la historia de una librería en Berlín sino de la supervivencia de una mujer en Francia, que vio su vida y profesión destruidas por regímenes autoritarios y sin sentido. Así pues, ésta no es una crítica contra el texto sino contra los editores, que escogieron un título que no tenía nada que ver con el contenido� revisando luego el epilogo, todo tiene sentido: el texto original es Rien où poser sa tête o “ningún lugar donde apoyar la cabeza�. En fin, no sé si lo eligieron por vender más pero� en fin. Si bien no resultó lo que esperaba, me dio en cambio un testimonio de fortaleza y optimismo ante la adversidad. Y sin duda, aunque la librería sea mencionada solo por un tiempo corto en la narración, empatizo profundamente con los sentimientos de la autora, su amor a los libros y la separación de ellos ante la tragedia -que solo fue el inicio:
La historia comienza describiendo el amor de Françoise por los libros, sus estudios en París y sus recorridos a lo largo del río visitando libreros de viejo; posteriormente nos traslada al Berlín de la década de 1920 en donde ella establece la primera librería francesa en la capital alemana y nos relata casi 15 años de luchas, pero también de prosperidad pues el lugar se convirtió en el punto de encuentro para la comunidad francesa y para otros diplomáticos. No obstante, con el ascenso del régimen nacionalsocialista al poder, las cosas empezaron a cambiar. Después del saqueo a los negocios judíos -del cual el suyo se salva milagrosamente, Françoise sabe que no tiene nada más que hacer en Berlín. De esta manera se traslada a París en donde por un tiempo está a salvo, pero unos escasos meses después, debe huir nuevamente, empezando así un desplazamiento constante.
De ahí va a Niza, en donde pasa casi dos años, gracias al apoyo de un profesor suyo y de vecinos y amigos; franceses que se oponían al régimen alemán y al contubernio con el gobierno francés y que eran personas valientes y duras. La estancia en Niza, a pesar de todos los sinsabores, es narrada de forma exquisita: la autora podía, en medio de la desazón, caminar por las calles de la pequeña ciudad; dejarse transportar a la Edad Media; tomar un café con una mujer mayor durante las tardes en la ciudad tranquila. Creo que este tipo de consuelos son fundamentales para el alma en situaciones de peligro o pesadumbre pues sin ellos, nos sería imposible seguir adelante.
Al abandonar Niza, Françoise cuenta con una visa y un salvoconducto para llegar a Suiza, pero la tarea no es fácil. Las fronteras son vigiladas y debe cruzar de manera ilegal. Esta es la parte más estresante del libro: está tan cerca de poder cruzar y sus intentos se ven frustrados varias veces. Finalmente, lo logra y aquí concluye el libro y este testimonio. En realidad se me detuvo el corazón un poco en los momentos finales� por suerte sabemos que ella logró cruzar.
Lo vivido por Françoise no fue fácil y si bien podríamos alegrarnos de que la autora evitó la deportación y con ello, los horrores de los campos de concentración, no por ello su tragedia es menos impactante: años escondiéndose, alejada de su profesión y de sus libros, y más grave aún, de sus seres queridos. La introducción y el epilogo nos indican que ella estuvo casada pero su marido falleció en 1942 en un campo de concentración; al momento de escribir esta memoria, Françoise esperaba tener noticias de su familia en Polonia pero, al parecer, nadie le sobrevivió. Quizá lo más intrigante -o por lo menos para mí- resulte el hecho que este texto fue el único publicado por la autora y que poco se sabe de ella después de la publicación de éste. Nunca volvió a escribir -o por lo menos nada ha sobrevivido. Este texto fue encontrado en una venta de libros de segunda mano y rescatado. ¿Por qué nunca volvió a escribir? ¿Regresó en algún momento a Polonia? ¿Volvió a abrir una librería, quizá esta vez en un pueblito pintoresco del sur de Francia? Nunca lo sabremos y coincido, como Patrick Modiano quien escribe el prólogo de esta edición, que:
“La gran singularidad de ‘Una librería en Berlín� procede justamente de que no podamos identificar a su autora de una manera precisa (�) De ese modo, su libro será siempre (�) la carta de una desconocida, olvidada en la lista de correos desde hace una eternidad y que parece que recibes por error, aunque tal vez eras en realidad su destinatario�.
He de hacer solo una ligera confesión y una advertencia. A mitad del libro comencé a sentirme algo decepcionado ya que, salvo las primeras páginas, nunca más se volvió a hablar del oficio de librera de la autora, ni de su amor por los libros. Era obvio que como perseguida jamás podría volver a trabajar en ello, pero entonces, me di cuenta de que el título del libro en español es suma, descaradamente, engañoso pues no es la historia de una librería en Berlín sino de la supervivencia de una mujer en Francia, que vio su vida y profesión destruidas por regímenes autoritarios y sin sentido. Así pues, ésta no es una crítica contra el texto sino contra los editores, que escogieron un título que no tenía nada que ver con el contenido� revisando luego el epilogo, todo tiene sentido: el texto original es Rien où poser sa tête o “ningún lugar donde apoyar la cabeza�. En fin, no sé si lo eligieron por vender más pero� en fin. Si bien no resultó lo que esperaba, me dio en cambio un testimonio de fortaleza y optimismo ante la adversidad. Y sin duda, aunque la librería sea mencionada solo por un tiempo corto en la narración, empatizo profundamente con los sentimientos de la autora, su amor a los libros y la separación de ellos ante la tragedia -que solo fue el inicio:
“Buscaba junto a mis libros un poco de consuelo y de valentía.
Y de repente oí una melodía infinitamente delicada…Procedería de las estanterías, las vitrinas, de todas partes donde los libros vivían su misteriosa vida.
Y yo estaba ahí, escuchándola�
Era la voz de los poetas, su fraternal consuelo a mi gran angustia. Habían oído la llamada de su amiga y se despedían de la pobre librera desposeída de su reino.�
July 3, 2023
This was a donation to my Little Free Library Shed quite a while ago. I also read it quite a while ago. But I didn’t read it right away.
I think I felt a bit sad about it. Or moody. Maybe that was it. I know that the title intrigued me, but I also knew it was another WWII story, and it was going to be emotional, and I needed to be in the right frame of mind for it, so I waited to be ready for it.
I was right to wait. And now, I am bringing my review to ŷ.
Part of reading this historical memoir was realizing that once again there is a piece of history that we find ourselves being introduced to that we hadn’t realized. Or, overlooked.
When the Germans launched their blitzkrieg conquest of France in 1940, they seized over 45% of the country. Much of the southern part of the country remained “unoccupied.� The Nazis in affect installed a subservient pro-German puppet regime. Their individual in charge was Marshall Phillipe Petain, a WWI military hero.
We learn in Frenkel’s memoir how unprotected the Jews were under Petain’s regime in the spa resort city of Vichy.
Prior to the Nazi “invasion� Frenkel and her Russian Jewish husband, Simon, opened a bookshop in the capital of Germany. It attracted a curiously mixed group of customers. French literary giants lectured in her store, until Hitler gained power in Germany.
Despite official Nazi antisemitic policy, Frenkel’s store remained open even after the 1938 Kristallnacht pogrom. However, in August 1939, just before the start of WWII, she shuttered her bookstore and fled to her beloved Paris.
She became a refugee again when the Germans occupied the French capital, so she escaped to the French Riviera. But then there was Petain’s police rounding up Jews.
This book describes the terror, despair and fear she faced on the run. Mostly fear of betrayal.
And then�
She finally escaped to Switzerland.
The story of her husband, who isn’t really mentioned, was actually murdered in Auschwitz in 1942, and most of her family living in Poland, including her mother, also was killed in the Holocaust.
Hebrew: Af al pi chen (Nevertheless to the contrary and despite everything.)
In the end, she returns to Nice where she was able to live out a quiet, unnoticed life until her death in 1975 at age 86.
Although, I share just a timeline of tidbits of the direction her life took � it is a gripping story � worth exploring � for readers to actually read the details for themselves.
The back of the book gives an excellent chronology of important events and a dossier (including documents and pictures) and explanations.
This is truly a remarkable memoir providing eyewitness testimony of a neglected aspect of the Holocaust: Vichy France and the Jews.
I think I felt a bit sad about it. Or moody. Maybe that was it. I know that the title intrigued me, but I also knew it was another WWII story, and it was going to be emotional, and I needed to be in the right frame of mind for it, so I waited to be ready for it.
I was right to wait. And now, I am bringing my review to ŷ.
Part of reading this historical memoir was realizing that once again there is a piece of history that we find ourselves being introduced to that we hadn’t realized. Or, overlooked.
When the Germans launched their blitzkrieg conquest of France in 1940, they seized over 45% of the country. Much of the southern part of the country remained “unoccupied.� The Nazis in affect installed a subservient pro-German puppet regime. Their individual in charge was Marshall Phillipe Petain, a WWI military hero.
We learn in Frenkel’s memoir how unprotected the Jews were under Petain’s regime in the spa resort city of Vichy.
Prior to the Nazi “invasion� Frenkel and her Russian Jewish husband, Simon, opened a bookshop in the capital of Germany. It attracted a curiously mixed group of customers. French literary giants lectured in her store, until Hitler gained power in Germany.
Despite official Nazi antisemitic policy, Frenkel’s store remained open even after the 1938 Kristallnacht pogrom. However, in August 1939, just before the start of WWII, she shuttered her bookstore and fled to her beloved Paris.
She became a refugee again when the Germans occupied the French capital, so she escaped to the French Riviera. But then there was Petain’s police rounding up Jews.
This book describes the terror, despair and fear she faced on the run. Mostly fear of betrayal.
And then�
She finally escaped to Switzerland.
The story of her husband, who isn’t really mentioned, was actually murdered in Auschwitz in 1942, and most of her family living in Poland, including her mother, also was killed in the Holocaust.
Hebrew: Af al pi chen (Nevertheless to the contrary and despite everything.)
In the end, she returns to Nice where she was able to live out a quiet, unnoticed life until her death in 1975 at age 86.
Although, I share just a timeline of tidbits of the direction her life took � it is a gripping story � worth exploring � for readers to actually read the details for themselves.
The back of the book gives an excellent chronology of important events and a dossier (including documents and pictures) and explanations.
This is truly a remarkable memoir providing eyewitness testimony of a neglected aspect of the Holocaust: Vichy France and the Jews.
September 3, 2024
Nosaukums gan ir mazliet mānīgs, atbilstošāks ir otrs, ar kuru grāmata dažās valstīs ir iznākusi - No Place To Lay Ones Head. Poļu ebreju izcelsmes memuārs, kas sākas idilliski ar franču grāmatnīcas atvēršanu Berlīnē 1921., un tālāko jau nav grūti paredzēt. Grāmatas lielāko daļu aizņem bēguļošana, centieni izdzīvot, labu un sliktu ceļā satikto personāžu apraksti, kara pieredze no iekšpuses. Bija interesanti, varēja just, ka autore ir īsta grāmatniece, jo viņas stāstījums ir ļoti literārs.
March 10, 2020
This was just okay for me. It was Nonfiction - WWII - Autobiography. First the title was misleading and it didn't fit this book at all. It wasn't about a bookshop or about Berlin. This was written by a Jewish woman who did at one time own a bookshop in Berlin. She had an interesting story to tell as she struggled to survive WWII and I appreciated the French history in this and the descriptions of the French people. So many were quick and eager to help, even with the threat of the Nazis looming overhead.
However, for the most part, this was just okay. I can't pinpoint exact reasons why I wasn't pulled into this one. I just wasn't feeling it. I'm toggling between 2 and 3 stars, but I will round up to 3 for the history.
However, for the most part, this was just okay. I can't pinpoint exact reasons why I wasn't pulled into this one. I just wasn't feeling it. I'm toggling between 2 and 3 stars, but I will round up to 3 for the history.
July 17, 2018
4.5 �
"Es deber de los supervivientes rendir testimonio con el fin de que los muertos no sean olvidados ni los oscuros sacrificios sean desconocidos."
"Es deber de los supervivientes rendir testimonio con el fin de que los muertos no sean olvidados ni los oscuros sacrificios sean desconocidos."
April 30, 2020
As a young woman from Poland studying in Paris after World War I, Francoise Frenkel decided that she was destined to be a bookseller, ideally a seller of French books. Upon discovering that there were no French bookstores in Berlin, she set up shop there. Her brief success was snuffed out by the arrival of the Nazi regime. Prevented from returning to her family in Poland, Frenkel, who was Jewish, fled to France.
Despite the title, little of this book is about Frenkel’s Berlin bookshop. The bulk of the book describes Frenkel’s time in various places in the south of France, first living as a barely tolerated refugee and then, after the collaborationist Vichy government was installed, living in various hiding places to avoid being rounded up and sent east to the camps.
As Frenkel tells in detail of her encounters with a variety of French citizens, it’s like a study in psychology to see the range of reactions of the citizens. Some are active collaborators, such as the border guards who arrest her, along with several others attempting to cross the border into Switzerland. They claim that their government has ordered this and it’s for the good of the country, because the Jews ruined Germany and would also ruin France. They either naively or mendaciously tell the arrestees that they will just be sent to work in Germany.
Those who help Frenkel are the most interesting group. Some do it for money and are ready to fleece her, or turn her over or kick her out at a moment’s notice. Others help to be kind, but have a bit of cognitive dissonance, because they like her and want to be kind to her, but they are still ready to buy into the Nazi/Vichy slanders of the Jews as a “race.� But then there are those few who help her over and over, at the risk of their own safety, for no reward, but simply because it’s the right thing to do for a fellow human being and for France.
I listened to this book during the second month of the coronavirus pandemic in the US. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by my occasional frustration with being cooped up when I read of Frenkel’s long months hiding in small rooms, never going outside, fearful every day that she would be found out or betrayed. This went on for almost three years before she was able to make her escape.
I can’t recommend the audiobook, read by Jilly Bond. She is a popular audiobook narrator, but she’s the wrong choice for this book. Bond is the queen of the humorous voice. Without actually laughing aloud, she can imbue her tone with anything from amusement to hilarity. Unfortunately, she uses that tone in this book often when I think Frenkel meant an ironical tone, even bitterly ironical at times, and with good reason.
Despite the title, little of this book is about Frenkel’s Berlin bookshop. The bulk of the book describes Frenkel’s time in various places in the south of France, first living as a barely tolerated refugee and then, after the collaborationist Vichy government was installed, living in various hiding places to avoid being rounded up and sent east to the camps.
As Frenkel tells in detail of her encounters with a variety of French citizens, it’s like a study in psychology to see the range of reactions of the citizens. Some are active collaborators, such as the border guards who arrest her, along with several others attempting to cross the border into Switzerland. They claim that their government has ordered this and it’s for the good of the country, because the Jews ruined Germany and would also ruin France. They either naively or mendaciously tell the arrestees that they will just be sent to work in Germany.
Those who help Frenkel are the most interesting group. Some do it for money and are ready to fleece her, or turn her over or kick her out at a moment’s notice. Others help to be kind, but have a bit of cognitive dissonance, because they like her and want to be kind to her, but they are still ready to buy into the Nazi/Vichy slanders of the Jews as a “race.� But then there are those few who help her over and over, at the risk of their own safety, for no reward, but simply because it’s the right thing to do for a fellow human being and for France.
I listened to this book during the second month of the coronavirus pandemic in the US. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by my occasional frustration with being cooped up when I read of Frenkel’s long months hiding in small rooms, never going outside, fearful every day that she would be found out or betrayed. This went on for almost three years before she was able to make her escape.
I can’t recommend the audiobook, read by Jilly Bond. She is a popular audiobook narrator, but she’s the wrong choice for this book. Bond is the queen of the humorous voice. Without actually laughing aloud, she can imbue her tone with anything from amusement to hilarity. Unfortunately, she uses that tone in this book often when I think Frenkel meant an ironical tone, even bitterly ironical at times, and with good reason.
April 13, 2018
La pasada semana santa tuve la oportunidad de visitar la exposición que hay en el centro de arte del Canal en Madrid sobre Auschwitz que os recomiendo a todos lo que podáis ir a verla. A la salida tienen montada una librería fantástica en la que fantarán pocos títulos de ficción y no ficción sobre el horror que vivieron los júdios durante la persecución nazi en la segunda guerra mundial y entre ellos estaba este que cogí ya que lo había visto recomendado por Desireé en su canal de booktube. Lo que menos me ha gustado es que hayan cambiado el titulo del libro en esta re-edición ya que lleva a engaño totalmente. Pensaba que nos iba a relatar su vida como librera en Berlin y los problemas que llegarían al llegar al poder Hitler pero esto es solo una pincelada en las primeras páginas. El titulo originario "ningún sitio donde descansar la cabeza" es mucho mas ilustrativo de lo que encontramos que es la historia de la huida de esta mujer para salvar su vida. Muy bueno el prologo de Patrick Modiano con el que se abre el libro. Después de esta visita tengo mas libros pendientes que leer sobre el holocausto pero los iré dispersando en el tiempo porque no es un tema como para leer de seguido sin refrescar la mente con otras historias menos duras.
January 25, 2020
A hard to put down book. I feel so connected to those who lived through this time period. Reading their memoirs makes my life better and gives me a deeper appreciation for my freedoms. I also love to read of the angels on earth who love, help, and support others without judgement and giving the best of their time and resources without thought of pay. God still lives in our daily lives through our willingness to serve and keep the second commandment.
I highly recommend this book. It’s squeaky clean. If you have a youth interested in memoirs from this time, this is one I’d let my youth read.
I highly recommend this book. It’s squeaky clean. If you have a youth interested in memoirs from this time, this is one I’d let my youth read.
May 27, 2017
Me ha gustado muchísimo conocer las peripecias tas duras que tuvo que pasar por tener orígenes judíos en la época de la segunda guerra mundial. Le acompañaremos escapando de Alemania, pasando por Francia para poder llegar a Suiza. Me encanta leer historias reales de esta época y esta en concreto merece muchísimo la pena tanto por la historia en sí como por la forma en la que está escrita.
February 16, 2024
3,5
Așa o carte discretă, scrisă cu o voce mică, deloc spectaculoasă, de mult n-am mai citit. Fiind destinată în totalitate marelui subiect al evreilor vânați cu atâta tenacitate de regimul nazist, este surprinzător de văzut cât de putin dramatic este narată de către această doamnă, François Frenkel, pe numele ei adevărat Frymeta Idesa Frenkel, o poloneză cu origini evreiești. Nu exista nici cea mai mică urmă care să trădeze dorința de a pune în scenă ceva cu puternic impact emoțional. Până la urmă, această delicatețe mi-a plăcut cel mai mult. În definitiv, ceea ce au experimentat evreii în Europa ocupata de naziști este foarte asemănător. Într-un crescendo s-a ajuns de la discriminare, defaimare si hărțuire, până la vânare, încarcerare, exploatare, tortură, exterminare. Sunt povesti infinit mai atroce, mai terifiante, cu o putere mult mai mare de a impresiona și a emoționa decât cea din volumul de față. Povestea doamnei Frenkel nu ajunge nici în ghetou, nici în lagăr, nici în crematoriu. Ea relatează simplu cum a deschis o librarie franceza în Berlin și cum anul 1939, cu evenimentele lui, a obigat-o sa părăsească Germania într-o fugă continuă care ia sfârșit doar când ajunge în Elveția neutră, în 1943. Este așadar o supraviețuitoare. Crede că este necesar sa-si spună povestea, că și ea completează marele tablou al acelor timpuri descreierate. Timpuri în care o femeie în jur de 50 de ani, cu studii la Sorbona și proprietară a unei librarii berlineze este nevoită sa fugă precum un delicvent, precum un animal vânat, din oraș în oraș, la mila unor oameni necunoscuți și la discreția unui denunț care putea surveni oricând de la oricine. Povestea este relatata foarte calm, cu un tempo foarte uniform, concetrandu-se pe fapte si fără prea multe momente de introspecție. Nu aflam nimic din ce urmează după ce ajunge pe un teritoriu sigur, nici ce turnură a avut existența ei ulterioara, nici dacă s-a reunit cu familia de care fusese separată. Doar ca soțul ei a fost exterminat într-unul din marile lagăre naziste.
Cartea a fost publicata imediat, în 1945, probabil îndată după încetarea războiului. Totuși, autoarea nu devoaleaza multe nume, apar câteva persoane menționate doar cu inițială. Nu spune cine erau prietenii din străinătate care vegheau asupra ei, care-i indicau oameni de legătură, care îi procurau vize. Nu exista nicio îndoială ca a plătit ani întregi camere de hotel, gazde, acte false, permise de ședere, fără să poată munci nicăieri. Ajutorul pe care l-a primit ea și o mulțime de alți evrei a fost în schimbul unor plăti regulate. A fost nevoita sa achite transport, hrană, călăuze, fără îndoială a avut nevoie de mulți bani lichizi. Toate acestea sunt trecute cu vederea. Eu presupun ca e așa dintr-o discreție, dintr-o rezervă față de sentimentul jenant al aspectelor mercantile și, nu în ultimul rand din cauza momentului istoric, cand comunitatea evreiască era sub șocul marii nenorociri care o lovise din plin și care încă se temea pentru soarta ei.
Cartea a fost redescoperita de curând și republicată după o lungă perioada în care a fost uitata și ignorată.
Nu e o carte majoră, nu e o carte de căpătâi, este încă o mărturie a unui timp în care omul valora mai nimic.
Așa o carte discretă, scrisă cu o voce mică, deloc spectaculoasă, de mult n-am mai citit. Fiind destinată în totalitate marelui subiect al evreilor vânați cu atâta tenacitate de regimul nazist, este surprinzător de văzut cât de putin dramatic este narată de către această doamnă, François Frenkel, pe numele ei adevărat Frymeta Idesa Frenkel, o poloneză cu origini evreiești. Nu exista nici cea mai mică urmă care să trădeze dorința de a pune în scenă ceva cu puternic impact emoțional. Până la urmă, această delicatețe mi-a plăcut cel mai mult. În definitiv, ceea ce au experimentat evreii în Europa ocupata de naziști este foarte asemănător. Într-un crescendo s-a ajuns de la discriminare, defaimare si hărțuire, până la vânare, încarcerare, exploatare, tortură, exterminare. Sunt povesti infinit mai atroce, mai terifiante, cu o putere mult mai mare de a impresiona și a emoționa decât cea din volumul de față. Povestea doamnei Frenkel nu ajunge nici în ghetou, nici în lagăr, nici în crematoriu. Ea relatează simplu cum a deschis o librarie franceza în Berlin și cum anul 1939, cu evenimentele lui, a obigat-o sa părăsească Germania într-o fugă continuă care ia sfârșit doar când ajunge în Elveția neutră, în 1943. Este așadar o supraviețuitoare. Crede că este necesar sa-si spună povestea, că și ea completează marele tablou al acelor timpuri descreierate. Timpuri în care o femeie în jur de 50 de ani, cu studii la Sorbona și proprietară a unei librarii berlineze este nevoită sa fugă precum un delicvent, precum un animal vânat, din oraș în oraș, la mila unor oameni necunoscuți și la discreția unui denunț care putea surveni oricând de la oricine. Povestea este relatata foarte calm, cu un tempo foarte uniform, concetrandu-se pe fapte si fără prea multe momente de introspecție. Nu aflam nimic din ce urmează după ce ajunge pe un teritoriu sigur, nici ce turnură a avut existența ei ulterioara, nici dacă s-a reunit cu familia de care fusese separată. Doar ca soțul ei a fost exterminat într-unul din marile lagăre naziste.
Cartea a fost publicata imediat, în 1945, probabil îndată după încetarea războiului. Totuși, autoarea nu devoaleaza multe nume, apar câteva persoane menționate doar cu inițială. Nu spune cine erau prietenii din străinătate care vegheau asupra ei, care-i indicau oameni de legătură, care îi procurau vize. Nu exista nicio îndoială ca a plătit ani întregi camere de hotel, gazde, acte false, permise de ședere, fără să poată munci nicăieri. Ajutorul pe care l-a primit ea și o mulțime de alți evrei a fost în schimbul unor plăti regulate. A fost nevoita sa achite transport, hrană, călăuze, fără îndoială a avut nevoie de mulți bani lichizi. Toate acestea sunt trecute cu vederea. Eu presupun ca e așa dintr-o discreție, dintr-o rezervă față de sentimentul jenant al aspectelor mercantile și, nu în ultimul rand din cauza momentului istoric, cand comunitatea evreiască era sub șocul marii nenorociri care o lovise din plin și care încă se temea pentru soarta ei.
Cartea a fost redescoperita de curând și republicată după o lungă perioada în care a fost uitata și ignorată.
Nu e o carte majoră, nu e o carte de căpătâi, este încă o mărturie a unui timp în care omul valora mai nimic.
December 10, 2019
“Oh, the memory of the emergence of a leader with the face of an automaton, a face so deeply marked by hate and pride, dead to all feelings of love, friendship, goodness, or pity. ..� (p. 31)
Françoise Frenkel’s A Bookshop in Berlin has a long and circuitous publication history. First published in Switzerland in French in 1945 as Rien où poser sa tête (No place to rest her head), it soon became out-of-print and apparently forgotten until its rediscovery in 2010, reissued in France with an introduction by Nobel Prize laureate Patrick Modiano in 2015, translated into English and published in Australia in 2017, published in the U.K. in 2018, and finally in the U.S. in December 2019.
Rien où poser sa tête is a perfectly apposite title: A Bookshop in Berlin is Frenkel’s crushing version of hell, in which her beloved (and the only) French bookstore in Berlin is first disrupted after Hitler’s ascension in 1933, vandalized during and after Kristallnacht in 1938, and finally abandoned when Frenkel fled to France in 1939. Frenkel, Polish by birth and holder of a French temporary residence permit, flees to Avignon three days before the German bombing of Paris, and then repeatedly relocates within southern France trying to escape detection by the Germans and collaborationists, prior to her imprisonment, two failed escape attempts to Switzerland, and then her eventually success in 1943. Meanwhile, Frenkel � born in 1889, a woman in her 50s during World War Two � despairs over her mother and other relatives who remained in Poland. This, from a 1945 letter to a priest who had befriended and aided her: ”I would be so grateful for your prayers � I seek inner peace: I am grieving for so many and know not where my family have been laid to rest. How great is my suffering.� (p. 247) Frenkel’s stateless husband, unmentioned by Frenkel, had fled from Berlin back to Paris in 1933 and was murdered in Auschwitz in 1942.
Frenkel reveals both the everyday heroism of her French friends and colleagues, as well as the greed and cowardice of others she encounters. Frenkel expresses gratitude and admiration to many, while mostly withholding moral judgement about others.
Of course, other memoirs of the Shoah have been published. Each memoir is unique and tells a unique story and essentially incomparable story. Frenkel’s A Bookshop in Berlin is a heartbreaking and harrowing memoir.
For those familiar with Patrick Modiano’s fiction and other writings, his introduction may surprise. Modiano, ever devoted to giving voice to disappeared voices and to rediscovering personal histories lost to World War Two and afterwards, here argues for leaving Françoise Frenkel’s life unexamined outside of what she reveals of herself in A Bookshop in Berlin: ”Do we really need to know more? I don’t believe we do. What makes No Place to Lay One’s Head unique is that we cannot precisely identify its author. . . I prefer not to know what Françoise Frenkel’s face looked like, nor the twists and turns of her life after the war, nor the date of her death. Thus, her book will always remain for me that letter from an unknown woman, a letter forgotten poste restante for an eternity, that you’ve received in error, it seems, but that perhaps was intended for you.� (pp. ix-x) Given Frenkel’s reticence in A Bookshop in Berlin about so many personal details of her life, Modiano’s call to honor Frenkel’s posthumous privacy feel especially important.
Françoise Frenkel’s A Bookshop in Berlin has a long and circuitous publication history. First published in Switzerland in French in 1945 as Rien où poser sa tête (No place to rest her head), it soon became out-of-print and apparently forgotten until its rediscovery in 2010, reissued in France with an introduction by Nobel Prize laureate Patrick Modiano in 2015, translated into English and published in Australia in 2017, published in the U.K. in 2018, and finally in the U.S. in December 2019.
Rien où poser sa tête is a perfectly apposite title: A Bookshop in Berlin is Frenkel’s crushing version of hell, in which her beloved (and the only) French bookstore in Berlin is first disrupted after Hitler’s ascension in 1933, vandalized during and after Kristallnacht in 1938, and finally abandoned when Frenkel fled to France in 1939. Frenkel, Polish by birth and holder of a French temporary residence permit, flees to Avignon three days before the German bombing of Paris, and then repeatedly relocates within southern France trying to escape detection by the Germans and collaborationists, prior to her imprisonment, two failed escape attempts to Switzerland, and then her eventually success in 1943. Meanwhile, Frenkel � born in 1889, a woman in her 50s during World War Two � despairs over her mother and other relatives who remained in Poland. This, from a 1945 letter to a priest who had befriended and aided her: ”I would be so grateful for your prayers � I seek inner peace: I am grieving for so many and know not where my family have been laid to rest. How great is my suffering.� (p. 247) Frenkel’s stateless husband, unmentioned by Frenkel, had fled from Berlin back to Paris in 1933 and was murdered in Auschwitz in 1942.
Frenkel reveals both the everyday heroism of her French friends and colleagues, as well as the greed and cowardice of others she encounters. Frenkel expresses gratitude and admiration to many, while mostly withholding moral judgement about others.
Of course, other memoirs of the Shoah have been published. Each memoir is unique and tells a unique story and essentially incomparable story. Frenkel’s A Bookshop in Berlin is a heartbreaking and harrowing memoir.
For those familiar with Patrick Modiano’s fiction and other writings, his introduction may surprise. Modiano, ever devoted to giving voice to disappeared voices and to rediscovering personal histories lost to World War Two and afterwards, here argues for leaving Françoise Frenkel’s life unexamined outside of what she reveals of herself in A Bookshop in Berlin: ”Do we really need to know more? I don’t believe we do. What makes No Place to Lay One’s Head unique is that we cannot precisely identify its author. . . I prefer not to know what Françoise Frenkel’s face looked like, nor the twists and turns of her life after the war, nor the date of her death. Thus, her book will always remain for me that letter from an unknown woman, a letter forgotten poste restante for an eternity, that you’ve received in error, it seems, but that perhaps was intended for you.� (pp. ix-x) Given Frenkel’s reticence in A Bookshop in Berlin about so many personal details of her life, Modiano’s call to honor Frenkel’s posthumous privacy feel especially important.
December 16, 2015
It is a story like Nemirovski. A text found by chance. This is a story tipically mittel-Europa. A Russian Jewish young woman, fascinated by french littérature who became bookseller in Berlin. Many french author visited her (Colette, Gide...). An Wolfie uncle arrived in 1930. Exile, Paris, Nice, Helvetia.
The account of her life was published discretly in 1945 by an small editor and after nothing.
One book in bad states was found at a secondhand bookseller by chance. Modiano was enthused over it. It is a history as he likes. .We know nothing of her life after WWII. We have no photo of her. She died in Nice in 1975, it is the alone certitude, no family. Modiano asked to Gallimard to publish it.
It is written well, very interesting, but it does not have the genius of Némirovski which was a real writer.
(Wolfie uncle was the Cosima Wagner expression for named Hitler)
The account of her life was published discretly in 1945 by an small editor and after nothing.
One book in bad states was found at a secondhand bookseller by chance. Modiano was enthused over it. It is a history as he likes. .We know nothing of her life after WWII. We have no photo of her. She died in Nice in 1975, it is the alone certitude, no family. Modiano asked to Gallimard to publish it.
It is written well, very interesting, but it does not have the genius of Némirovski which was a real writer.
(Wolfie uncle was the Cosima Wagner expression for named Hitler)
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