Like many outstanding microhistories, The Collaborator delves into a seemingly narrow topic that实则 encompasses a wide range of profound themes. It specifically focuses on one rather pitiful fascist hot take monger in Third Republic and Vichy-era France. It details how the French legal system dealt with his collaboration with the Germans after Paris was liberated. As Kaplan makes abundantly clear, Brasillach was far from special. He was not an accomplished poet or novelist. He was a rather sloppy analytic essayist. He was not some would-have-been-Proust cut down in his prime. Instead, he was a thug who exploited his newspaper to identify targets for the Gestapo to deport and/or kill.

However, this book is also about the market for opinions and the incentives it generates, particularly on the right. It explores the delusions of importance shared by French men and women of letters, both those in favor of and opposed to the verdict. One of the funniest sections involves Brasillach's lawyer arguing for his acquittal based on his clever literary allusions, which the predominantly working-class jurors simply don't understand. It also ponders what words can accomplish, when words have the power to kill, and what a writer's responsibility is when words do indeed lead to death.

My only wish is that the book had delved deeper into Brasillach's specific Vichy-era denunciations. Was the school master he singled out arrested or killed as a result of his Je Suis Partout article? Were his pieces advocating the deportation of Jewish children and the rounding up and killing of Communists influential on the occupiers or the Vichyists? We are left with the impression that his writing plausibly could have led to deaths, but perhaps it didn't.

Nevertheless, this is just a minor quibble in the grand scheme of things. It also poses a question about the influence of his writing that is likely unanswerable. Overall, it's a remarkable book, and its conclusion mirrors that of Camus, the only literary figure who emerges relatively well: Brasillach was a despicable person, yet he deserved to live, not because he was innocent but because the death penalty is always unjust.

Here is an interesting read about an individual during World War II that many people are not familiar with.

The story presents a complex situation where one has to wonder if the decision made was the right one.

It's extremely difficult to determine now, considering how far removed we are from the actual event.

However, after reading this account, you will most definitely form a strong opinion, either in favor or against.

It makes you think about the various factors and circumstances that influenced the person's actions during that tumultuous time.

You'll be left pondering the consequences and implications of the decision, and how it might have shaped not only the individual's life but also the course of the war.

This is a captivating tale that offers a unique perspective on a lesser-known aspect of World War II.

I have long desired to read this book. Reading "French Lessons" and numerous other books about collaboration in France during World War II made me extremely excited when I discovered it in a used bookshop.

However, I was not as impressed as I had anticipated and hoped. She presented the facts rather well, but the first part seemed to drag a bit and jump around too much. Overall, it gave the impression of being somewhat disjointed. I did not read the extensive notes this time, but I plan to do so upon a second reading sometime in the future.

Her scholarship and interest in this subject are indeed worthy and important contributions to the study of collaboration and its continued impact in present-day France. It is evident that she has dedicated a great deal of time and effort to researching and writing about this complex and significant topic. Despite the minor flaws I noted, the book still provides valuable insights and perspectives that are worth exploring further. I look forward to delving deeper into it during my second reading and gaining a more comprehensive understanding of the subject matter.

Dr. Kaplan pens an outstanding history of a convoluted narrative: a Fascist, anti-Semitic author who assisted the Nazi occupiers of France in attaining their objectives via his writing.

Mr. Brasillach appears as an individual who was likely abused at some juncture in his life, and thus lashes out in the most extreme way against those he detests, in a manner characteristic of someone who is extremely fearful. During the Occupation, he advocated for the mass killing of Jews and communists.

After the restoration of the French Republic, he was put on trial for treason, convicted, and ultimately executed by firing squad. The lingering question is: can someone's writing truly be regarded as treason? This is a question relevant today, as there are numerous Robert Brasillachs on the extreme right wing in the USA whose writings are equally incendiary.

One distinction might be that Brasillach's writings were in the service of the Nazis, the despised occupiers of France, while the USA has no such occupiers. However, one could plausibly argue that the current Brasillachs aid Russia in undermining American democracy and its alliances, and are thus as traitorous as Mr. Brasillach.

Dr. Kaplan concludes the book with an elucidation of how Mr. Brasillach's brother-in-law formulated the concept of Holocaust denialism, and how Mr. Brasillach has evolved into a martyr and icon for France's present extreme right-wing party, the National Front.

This is a truly captivating story about a French writer named Robert Brasillach. During the occupation (1940 - 44), he not only lent his support to the Nazis but also passionately spoke and wrote against those who opposed the occupation in any manner. For these actions, he was put on trial for treason on January 19, 1945, and ultimately executed by firing squad on February 6, 1945, at the young age of 35. He is not the sole French writer to have faced such a fate.

Brasillach was a multi-faceted individual, being a journalist, novelist, and poet. During the occupation, he served as the editor of “Je Suis Partout,” a pro-Nazi publication. His journalistic remarks were filled with hatred, targeting Jewish people, communists, those who supported the French regime before 1940, and anyone who did not back Marshall Petain during the occupation, which included the French resistance. He denounced those he suspected of not wanting to collaborate, and some of these individuals were imprisoned, tortured, or executed.

The author offers incisive comments on the brief trial that convicted Brasillach, covering the judge, jurors (four of them), prosecutor, and defendant. The prosecutor received small red coffins in the mail for years and had to be protected by a bodyguard (he also prosecuted in other trials). We gain a chilling perspective of France during the years 1944 - 45. The author speculates, and I believe accurately, that if Brasillach had been tried after May 1945, when the war ended, he might not have been executed. In 1944 and 1945, there were many scores to settle and examples to be set.

Brasillach became a fascist in the 1930s, adoring the growing fascist regimes of Italy, Germany, and then Spain. I found him to be a loathsome individual who hurled vile words without any regard for the consequences. It was as if he was in a literary bubble filled with venom. He was truly a “head case” in need of psychiatric assistance.

Interestingly, some of the journalists he worked with have attempted to revive his literary career, transforming Brasillach into a martyr for the right-wing. Some members of this group, who wish to resurrect Brasillach, are also Holocaust deniers. What is equally repulsive is that they have removed many of the hateful comments, such as denunciations and vicious anti-Semitic remarks, from the memoirs they have written about Brasillach’s life.

This is an outstanding work that provides a deeper understanding of the profound divisions that were created in French society by the German occupation. These divisions continue to exist and evolve to this very day.

Riveting.

This captivating account chronicles the life and trial of Robert Brasillach. He was a highly productive and controversial French critic. At the tender age of 35, after France was liberated from the Nazis, he was executed for treason. Brasillach was a fascist-leaning writer, infamous for his defense of Nazi crimes. In fact, he was the only prominent writer to be put to death by the postwar French government.

His life was a complex web of ideological beliefs and actions that led to his downfall. The story unfolds, revealing the details of his trial and the events that led up to his execution. It offers a fascinating glimpse into a dark period of French history and the consequences of one man's choices.

This narrative is not only a study of Brasillach's life but also a reflection on the broader themes of morality, justice, and the price of collaboration. It forces us to confront the difficult questions surrounding his actions and the decisions made by the postwar French government.

Overall, it is a riveting and thought-provoking read that will leave readers with a deeper understanding of this important historical figure and the events that shaped his fate.

Should we execute a man simply because of his thoughts and opinions, even if they are detestable, when there is no evidence that his words have caused harm to a specific individual? This is the core issue of this beautifully researched and well-written micro history.

Although the book focuses on the works of Robert Brasillach and his trial for treason, it poses a series of thought-provoking questions about the nature of collaborating with an occupying power and whether the death penalty is a just punishment for those convicted of it. The Germans did not coerce Brasillach into writing articles in support of the German occupation. Even before the war, Brasillach was a well-known member of the French right wing, writing for rather extreme right-wing newspapers and expressing his belief that fascism was the panacea for France's ills under the socialist government of Leon Blum.

Kaplan delves into Brasillach's writings through the society in which he lived, a society with intense tensions between the left (Blum's government) and the right (French fascists). Kaplan then proceeds to describe all the "players" in this morality play: the prosecutor, the defense lawyer, the jurors, and the judge. What becomes evident is the highly political nature of the trial, which took place in January 1945 before the end of WWII. The new government under de Gaulle needed to demonstrate to its newly liberated citizens that it would take drastic measures against collaborators. The trial of Brasillach provided the perfect platform for that message.

Crime and punishment, even in peacetime, reflect the politics of the era. The pendulum swings between seeking vengeance and adopting a more compassionate view towards offenders. It was unfortunate timing for Brasillach that his trial was one of the first to be held. Many Vichy officials who were clearly more culpable in collaborating with the enemy and were tried after the war ended received much lighter sentences. These officials, unlike Brasillach, had fled to Germany when the Allies liberated France, while Brasillach had surrendered himself to the authorities. It is also disturbing to learn that under the system in place at the time, only those individuals who had demonstrated acts of resistance against the German occupiers were eligible to serve as jurors.

In the final two chapters, Kaplan describes the efforts of prominent writers and thinkers who attempted to have Brasillach's death sentence commuted due to their concerns for free speech and the fact that the legacy of this trial still impacts French right-wing politics (Le Pen) to this day.

This is a very interesting book that delves into the complex topic of the responsibility of artists in the context of politics.

One of the most notable cases it examines is that of Brasillach, who stands as the only writer to have been executed for collaborating with the Nazis during World War II.

The book provides a detailed account of the trial, presenting the evidence that was brought forward.

It turns out that Brasillach's collaboration was not just partial but full. In fact, in a newspaper that he edited, he regularly posted details about the hiding places of people who were being sought by the Germans.

This revelation adds a new layer of understanding to the gravity of his actions and the consequences that followed.

The book offers a thought-provoking exploration of the role of artists in times of war and the moral and ethical dilemmas they may face.

It serves as a reminder of the importance of holding individuals accountable for their actions, especially when those actions have far-reaching consequences for the lives of others.

Overall, this book is a valuable contribution to the study of history and the relationship between art and politics.

I am not at all impressed by this book.

To be honest, I always tend to make up my mind quickly, so take this with a grain of salt.

The topic of the trial of Brasillach is really far too narrow to maintain my interest.

Brasillach himself comes across as a thoroughly mediocre and neurotic figure.

The more general opening chapter, which is supposed to be about the "making of a fascist writer," is in itself quite mediocre and seems like a missed opportunity.

It fails to engage the reader or provide any truly interesting insights into the complex topic at hand.

Perhaps a more in-depth exploration of the historical context or a more detailed analysis of Brasillach's works and思想 would have made this book more engaging and worthwhile.

As it stands, however, I find myself rather disappointed with this offering.

Americans are masters in creating dramatized documentaries, especially those of a judicial nature. Such is also this book (in Greek, from the editions of Μοντέρνοι Καιροί, «The Man of the Enemy»). Written by a historian, it is not a history book. It is not (fortunately;) a historical novel. It somewhat resembles a report, a dramatized historical research. It could also be called «Portrait of a Fascist» or «Inside the Mind of a Fascist» or «The Trial of a Fascist» or «What to (Not) Do with a Fascist». Exceptionally interesting. The author can reach her own conclusions, but she does it in such a way as to allow the reader to reach his own as well.

(Also, Albert Camus was a wonderful type, but this a) you already know b) seems irrelevant now, but by reading the book you will understand why I say it)

More context: https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytim...
and
http://www.biblionet.gr/book/103542/K... This book offers a unique perspective on the mind and actions of a fascist. Through vivid descriptions and detailed research, the author brings to life the complex and often disturbing world of fascism. It is not just a dry account of historical events but a captivating exploration that engages the reader on multiple levels. Whether you are interested in history, politics, or simply a good story, this book is sure to provide you with valuable insights and food for thought.