The Emigrants

Just before his tragic death in a car crash in December 2001, aged only 57, German-born writer W G Sebald gave a rare interview at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall. During this final public appearance, he spoke of his frustration at the refusal of his countrymen to discuss, or even acknowledge, the terrible events that unfolded before his birth in 1944. This 'conspiracy of silence' shaped not only his childhood, but also his entire literary output. The Emigrants, first published in Germany in 1993 and now reissued by Vintage, typifies Sebald's oblique approach to the problem, which became a major preoccupation for him during his 20s. The book explores the lives of four Jewish men, each exiled from his homeland, and each suffering the accompanying sense of loss and desolation. Sebald paints a compassionate and moving portrait of these men in four self-contained sections that combine to form a sober, thought-provoking whole. A sense of foreboding overshadows each new narrative, a foreboding that is fully justified as events move inexorably towards a tragic conclusion. Each man could easily have been the subject of an entire book; instead, we are only offered a tantalizingly brief glimpse of them. But Sebald's elegant and dignified prose, with its detailed and poetic descriptions, interspersed with occasional flashes of humour, carries the book through. Sebald's writing was always combined with a passion for photographs, and The Emigrants is peppered with black-and-white images, carefully selected and uncaptioned, their relevance obvious from the surrounding text. As a literary device, it works well. Sebald's concerns about the futility of war, and the far-reaching consequences that can spread across generations, have resulted in a book that is a salutary lesson for us all. It is simple, stylish and utterly compelling. (Kirkus UK)