REVIEW: Stasi Child

How do you find a fresh way to approach the detective novel? David Young's Stasi Child has a decent answer - with the setting, scenario and characters required for a fascinating tale.

After wallowing in a bit of degree nostalgia with Richard J Evans, I was attracted to this book by the fact it was set in 1970s East Germany. I'd been fascinated by the GDR and the Stasi at university and this seemed an intriguing backdrop for a detective story. The central character, Karin Müller, is a police chief tasked with investigating the case of a grisly murder under the prying eyes of the Stasi, the infamous secret police.

Fittingly, there's more than meets the eye about the case and pretty much all of the characters we come across. Young captures the paranoia and corruption of the East German state well and it all serves to keep you guessing. All of the main characters have their own agenda and we see their back stories slowly peeled back, mirroring the progress of the case itself. It's refreshing to see the focus on 'real' people too - this is a Cold War thriller that isn't all about spies.

Through Müller we also see a different at the GDR. She's someone who doesn't yearn to escape to the west - she's sympathetic to the ideals of the socialist state and is appalled by the perceived excesses of the 'other Germany'. This makes her character all the more interesting for me. It's often difficult to understand how people in authoritarian regimes thought - and why they 'go along' with them - Müller helps us to see this. Her outlook doesn't make for a rose-tinted view of the GDR, but it does offer a richer understanding of the way real people acted and thought. Hopefully it will encourage people to delve further into the history of this short-lived but fascinating regime.

It's perhaps no surprise that the book is pretty grim too. I'm not sure anyone has a happy ending - and many characters are forced to make dark choices as events unfold. Just as we think Irma - a child we first find locked up in an institution for 'wayward' children - is going to get a positive future, for example, we learn that the price of her freedom is to spy on her mother for the Stasi. Informing on friends, family and neighbours was a macabre feature of the East German state and her story brings this to the fore powerfully.

We learn much of Irma's journey through first-person chapters which are interspersed throughout the narrative. It's an interesting writing device, and helps to build up the sense of mystery as the case develops.

Perhaps it's a little convenient that Klaus Jäger - the Stasi puppet master pulling the strings for much of the book - just fills in Müller with some of the missing details at the end to bring us up to speed but that's definitely forgivable and does explain away why some of the steps in the investigation feel a little coincidental.

All in all, Young weaves a complex web of intrigue over an atmospheric backdrop with Stasi Child. It's a riveting read and you can't help but be impressed by the quality on offer for this debut novel. Young tackles child abuse, corruption, authoritarianism, sexual abuse and relationships for good measure. He's also produced a set of three-dimensional characters and a detective story with a difference. I'm certainly looking forward to catching up on how he puts all of these puzzle pieces together in the next two Müller stories.

REVIEW: The Third Reich in History and Memory

Do you ever wish you could go back to the subject you studied at university? Maybe I'm sad, but I often do. I finished my three-year history undergraduate degree 11 years ago, but I still wish I could keep up to date with the latest ideas and interpretations being put forward by historians. A BBC History Magazine subscription scratches the itch to be fair, but I know there's more 'going on' in the world of history that I'm missing.

I quite fancied doing a Masters but journalism called - and I don't regret moving on to something that offered a job at the end of it.

Anyway, it was a sense of 'degree nostalgia' that drew me to my latest book, The Third Reich in History and Memory by Richard J Evans.

My degree actually started with a module looking at the study of history. In essence, we were asked to consider whether the study of history was really possible or worthwhile. I wonder of they still do that in an era of £9,000-plus fees. Would they want those high-paying students to question the value of their course??

Still, it was during this daunting and difficult early module that I stumbled across Richard J Evans' book In Defence of History. As the name suggests, it offered a strong case for the real value of my degree subject of choice. It remains to this day the most inspiring and influential book I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

From then on I knew I could trust Evans to provide a robust analysis of history and this book was the perfect fit for me. A collection of essays, speeches and reviews from recent years, this explores the latest debates and developments in the studies of Nazi Germany. In essence, this filled me in on everything that's happened in the decade since I was last engaged in academic study and had access to journals etc.

The book is a real triumph, flowing surprisingly well given that it's a collection of material that weren't originally intended as one volume. Indeed the 'episodic' nature of the content was ideally suited to our reading club at work - even if the occasional passer by looked a little perplexed by the subject matter for a lunch time read.

I was particularly intrigued by the sections exploring the way in which people have attempted to link 19th Century German foreign policy and the actions of the Nazis - and Evans' views on the extent to which we can say the Nazis led a 'dictatorship by consent'.

I won't attempt to explore any of the arguments here - I doubt I'd do Evans justice - but it's great to read the work of someone at the top of their profession arguing passionately and persuasively based on facts and experience. Evans is sometimes scathing in his reviews but always seems, to me at least, fair even when he's being firm.

This book ended up being much more than just degree nostalgia. It was intellectually stimulating and enlightening at every twist and turn and I'm pleased I picked it up. If you're missing your degree subject at all, I hope you're lucky enough to be able to find a book like this one.

REVIEW: The Man in the High Castle

You sometimes reach a crossroads with a book don't you? A moment when you pause, scratch your chin, gaze out of the window and ponder 'where is this going?' and perhaps even 'is this any good?'.

I had such a moment with Philip K Dick's The Man in the High Castle. It was about 150 pages in but I decided to crack on, read a couple more chapters and see where it took me. Luckily my persistence was rewarded and I came away glad to have picked this unusual book up.

Take a look at any one-line review or short summary of this book and you'll see that it is described as a dystopian 'what it?' work, exploring what would happen in America if the Nazis and their allies had 'won' the Second World War.

While that's strictly true it really isn't the whole story. I'll admit I was wrong-footed by this book and it's probably what led me to question where it was going. Yes, this is set in an America divided into Japanese, German and neutral thirds but we see this world in a more abstract way, through the eyes of a clutch of intriguing characters. The book isn't about what the Nazis and Japanese would do if they were victorious, it's about how real people would react and what they would think. The ways in which day-to-day life is governed underpins it all, but it's in the background. Events in Germany - with a regime change - loom large, but are seen from afar. There's a chilling mention of what has happened in Africa since the war, with the detail left to the worst of your own imagination to fill in. Most tellingly everyone is seemingly pretty much resigned to life 'as it is', with the action taking place a good twenty years after the end of the war. There's a downbeat feel to the defeated Americans which contrasts wildly with the tubthumping 'God Bless America' of the hegemon of the real world.

The most fascinating aspect comes through the 'book within a book' that lies at the heart of The Man in the High Castle - with the fictional characters all intrigued by their own 'what if?' text, widely read across the States and written by an author who examines what would've happened if the Nazis hadn't won.

It's not always easy to identify with the characters written by Philip K Dick but remarkable things happen to some fairly unremarkable people as the book builds to a close - with a dash of espionage and intrigue coming to the boil in the final third. There's a plot to kill Hawthorn Abendsen - the man behind the aforementioned book - and the realisation that the Nazis are planning to oust their Japanese allies and take over the bits of the world they aren't already in control of.

This isn't really like anything else I've read but that's no bad thing. None of the plot threads are neatly sewn up but, strangely, that doesn't matter too much. This is an eerie book, an alternative reality that poses lots of questions and gets you thinking. If you park your preconceptions and accept the slightly odd nature of many of the characters then there's a reward to be had.

I haven't seen the TV adaptation - I've been reluctant to give money to Amazon after it blew hideous sums on those old Top Gear morons - but it would be fascinating to see what's done with the material here. My hunch is that some of the more obvious 'what if?' stuff might have to be shoe horned back in and it'd be interesting to see what impact that has.

Still, this has all whetted my appetite to return to reading a decent history book. So, next up, I'm going to make another diversion away from my 'next five books' and read something by one of my favourite historians, Richard J Evans. I'll let you know what I think...

Richard III is Leicester's crowning glory

Having lived in Leicester for several months while studying to be a journalist - and having returned several times since to see friends or for shopping - one thing jumped out as different when heading there last weekend.

Before I'd even reached the city, the 'Richard III' effect was clear from the road signs - now updated to guide those on a royal pilgrimage.

And, as strong as the pull of a nostalgic trip to Firebug or other old drinking haunts was, it was an appointment withe the king that took me back to Leicester last Saturday.

The road signs aren't the end. Throughout the city proud flags and signs - and shops 'cashing in' of course - have popped up, embracing the 'car park king' as their own.

And why shouldn't they? As a history graduate I was shocked and fascinated in equal measure by the discovery of the remains of the last Plantagenet monarch. The journalist in me was equally enticed by the sheer absurdity of the fact he was buried under a council car park. It's a wonderful story and a visit to the city was long overdue.

The visitor centre is located opposite the Cathedral - home, after much debate, to Richard's remains - and sits on the site of the discovery itself.

The centre - an old school building partly on the site of the old Grey Friars Church - houses an exhibition on two floors. The ground floor tells the tale of Richard's life. The path Richard took from birth to throne to Bosworth battle field is complex and it would be easy to bamboozle a visitor with the twists and turns of this story. The centre skilfully avoids that - combining an OK introductory video replete with actors explaining the timeline with a walkthrough of his short reign as King of England.

The video does a fair job but the displays are much better. Short, snappy, text keeps this engaging - introducing the 'Princes in the Tower' debate alongside the lesser known aspects of Richard's reign. It's hard to consider just how great a reformer Richard may have been from such a short tenure - but the legislation introduced here shows that the period is worth closer scrutiny for someone, like me, for whom this is not their specialist period.

Princes, legislation and death in battle all makes for a pretty full menu downstairs. Some people may feel they'd have liked to see more meat on such fleshy topics but that's what the books in the shop are for. I think it was all handled pretty well considering this is not the sole focus of the centre.

That's apparent upstairs, where the story of the discovery of Richard's remains is told. Quite whether we need to see the exact hi-vis council vest, dig permit paperwork, boots and digger head used on the fateful day is a matter for debate but you can forgive a bit of over-excitement given the magnitude of the project and you certainly can't argue all bases aren't covered.

The story of the dig is illuminated nicely with video clips and cuttings - and is followed by handy interactive displays on the methods used to verify that the remains were, in fact, Richard's. Alongside this scientific and factual part of the display was a particularly enjoyable section on the depictions of Richard in fiction throughout history - and how some historians have challenged this over time.

Whether you're a fully paid up Ricardian or not, the passionate people behind the project to unearth the king have earned their right to open up the debate on this most fascinating figure from our history.

After the exhibition there's a chance to walk across a glass floor over the exact spot in which the now-famous find occurred. It shows how tantalisingly close to the surface he was lying all along.

It's well worth then making the short trip across the road to the Cathedral - where the king is finally buried in a more befitting manner.

At £7.95 some may argue the exhibition was a tad on the expensive side. It's cheaper than the visiting exhibitions that are held in the British Museum, for example, though and - while it probably takes less time to digest - was a very different type of attraction.

It's not so much about exhibits and artefacts and bringing history to life through objects. Instead it's about an encapsulating story and one that shows that the events of the past are never a closed book. 1485 may be a long time ago but here we are, in 2015, still debating the mystery of 'the Princes' and the merits of the last English king to die in battle.

The centre has certainly inspired me to want to read on. It's also encouraging to see Leicester embrace this history and celebrate the past with such enthusiasm. My home city of Nottingham could probably learn a thing or to about how a prosperous and vibrant present/future can be helped with a rich past.

I'll have to return to those pubs next time...

British Museum opens your eyes to Germany's story

I love the British Museum. A beautiful building housing more wonders than you could possibly take in in one trip. Ok, the ownership of some items may be a little dubious (yes, that's you Elgin Marbles) but the fact it's free is fantastic. Everyone ought to go. Several times.

Of course the visiting exhibitions aren't free. (How dare they make you pay for the privilege of getting more of the world's most thought-provoking and fascinating artefacts to come to this country on 'tour'?!) In recent times I've been wowed by stunning shows on the Aztecs, Egypt, Pompeii and the Vikings - each sumptuosly put together and all giving eye catching lessons in periods of history you maybe already thought you knew well.

The museum has currently turned its attentions to Germany for a timely reflection on a nation marking 25 years since the fall of the Berlin Wall. The show, which runs until January 25, begins with that very landmark.

I've always had something of an interest in Germany - paricularly its culture, football and past - so this, and the accompanying Radio 4 series (available in easy to digest podcasts), has been a real treat.

The exhibition and radio series seem to be a labour of love for British Museum director Neil MacGregor - who picks up on the work of A History of the World in 100 Objects in some style.

There are a couple of key themes that run throughout.  Firstly, that you can't hope to understand Germany's history without looking at places such as Strasbourg,  Kaliningrad, Prague - all no longer German, but each play an important part in its story and, in the words of the organisers, are key contributors to the 'memories of a nation'.

The series and exhibition also, interestingly,  looks at how Germany's development as a patchwork of small kingdoms and states (it wasn't a nation until 1871) feeds in to its development. MacGregor reckons, for example, that the competition and lack of one overbearing central power created the conditions that Gutenberg and Luther would have struggled without. In France or England, he argues, Luther would have been banned and suppressed much more easily without the ability to look anywhere else for more favourable conditions.

He also seems to think Germany's traditions mean compromise and coalition are at the heart of its politics and shape favourable views to the EU. It may be stretching it a little but MacGregor suggests that Germany sees the state as a collaborative entity and so presumes that is how the EU could and should work. In Britain, so the theory goes, we are used to one party 'strong' government so we presume that is what the EU is/wants to become and are, as such, more skeptical about its aims and concerned about it dominating our life.

Whether you agree or not, it's an interesting point about the present, inspired by the past and our understanding of it.

Those themes are played out more explicitly on the radio, whereas it's the objects themselves that naturally come to the fore at the museum.  An unsung highlight has to be the triple portrait that, face on, appears to be Wilhelm I but (with the nifty use of wooden strips) from the left appears to be Bismarck and on the right Frederick III. The child in me is still fascinated by things like that. Surely this would be a nifty marketing idea even now?

From Marx to the Bauhaus with books and paintings there's plenty more of the culture you'd expect/hope to see. Oddly the most interesting exhibit for me proved to be the detailed model of Friedrichstrasse station. At first glance this looks a rather fun piece that wouldn't be amiss alongside a child's train set. Upon closer inspection you realise this painstaking replica was used to instruct spies. It's a telling example of how the Stasi - keepers of smell samples etc - made the mundane menacing and how it obsessed over its quest to keep East German society under close watch.

What of the Nazis?  Well, in some respects this exhibition and series could be seen as an attempt to broaden our understanding beyond 1933-45. Indeed MacGregor has spoken of the fact that many other nations have made a concerted effort to move beyond the two terrible wars and understand the close ties they have with Germany. He clearly feels we still need that here and does his bit for the cause here.

When I went for an interview for my history degree, I was asked: "You're not obsessed with the Nazis are you?" It seemed a bizarre question. When I confirmed I wasn't and asked why they'd enquired, I was told they got many students who had come to them having studied Hitler, his rise to power and the Second World War at school, GCSE and A-level and wanted to carry that tradition on at university.

In some respects I can completely understand the teaching of the topic. It's a period that has huge relevance to recent generations in this country and offers a chance to do one of the most important things you can with the past - learn the lessons of history. The Nazis were barbarous and, naturally, form a massive part of German history study. But stereotyping and scapegoating a nation are surely the very opposite approach if you've truly understood the lessons of that period.

The period is covered here with a number of items - most movingly a concentration camp gate set in a starkly white corner. I thought it was a tasteful and powerful way of looking at the horrors of the Holocaust.

Not everyone was satisfied.  The woman who left before us wrote on an iPad, which had been left out for feedback, that there was 'not enough on the Nazis'.

I guess some people will have gone to this exhibition expecting a glut of Nazi artefacts.  The fact that some of those couldn't be swayed by the items they saw shows MacGregor still has a way to go.

The British Museum should definitely be applauded for its exhibition and accompanying series. I felt enriched and informed after my visit. Then again, I always do.