The Hitler Press

Want to write a successful book? Write one about Adolf Hitler. If Adolf isn't the core subject of your book, make sure that he is at least referenced, ideally with a photograph on the cover; or failing that, any German militaria will do, although the more specifically Nazi the better. If Hitler, his cohorts, or the gun specifications of Tiger tanks cannot feasibly be worked into your effort, don't despair; there's always Mussolini. And in keeping with exciting ideological developments elsewhere, there is now a new and satisfying third way: focus on the violence of oppositional regimes contemporary to Nazism, in which case your book will of course, by proxy, be about Nazi Germany anyway.

I began selling books three years ago and was immediately and lastingly struck by the popularity of Third Reich subject matter. Of course, such titles are rarely greeted with blockbuster sales. Most people are far more interested in recent Booker winners. But fascist-orientated history books, no matter how obscure their subject or confused their pretext, always sell well enough to justify their presence on the shelves. The Hitler industry may fall short of being a phenomenon, but it ticks along very nicely just the same.

The target audience, so far as is discernable, would appear to be white English male professionals between the ages of 35 and 60. The decision-makers, then. Whatever their reasons for stuffing their homes with Nazi history (and I appreciate that there are fans of militaria just as there are fans of stamps and trainsets), it is their money which has created a situation where arguably no other political figure is flattered with so many column inches as Adolf Hitler. True, his symbiotic relative Winston Churchill has picked up recently, but even being voted the Greatest Briton Ever can't help Churchill top the literary popularity of his German rival. Not in Britain, anyway.

It is a situation where a book like Kenneth Mackseys' Guderian - Panzer General, a biography of the ïgenius' tank commander and a relatively slim hardback priced at £25, has sufficiently good sales prospects (in a high street shop) to justify an initial order of ten glaring copies. A situation where it makes good sense for the tie-in to Andrew Roberts' Reich-bonanza TV series Secrets of Leadership, which ostensibly concerns itself with the success of a variety of leaders, to feature a picture of Hitler implacably staring out from the jacket. And one were Sutton publishing's German Army and German Navy hardbacks both trouble the top five History chart in my store, sales which would currently be most welcome were it not for the swastikas unapologetically emblazoned on their front covers.
Clearly readers are attracted by the Third Reich. No doubt there are plenty of worthy reasons why, but one of the principal hooks would still appear to be glamour. Sometimes this is made explicit, as it was recently by R.L. Bosworth, ironically in the introduction to his biography of Mussolini. Explaining the less crowded marketplace for works on Italian fascism, Bosworth notes that many history students are more intrigued by 'the glamour of Nazi Germany'. Two other relevant points struck me about Bosworth's book. The first was the supportive author quote on the front cover, supplied by Alan Massie, who apparently found Mussolini 'a pleasure to read'. Eh? The second came again from the introduction, where Bosworth spends some time earnestly pointing out that he 'remains an anti-fascist biographer', a strange disclaimer which would ideally be unnecessary were it not for the rash of revisionist Italian hagiography currently available on the subject.

It should be pointed out that Mussolini is a highly academic and literary work, and there are of course many issues of quality, stance and author pedigree here. There have always been Hitler histories with a strong political, sociological and psychological interest. But problems remain with the uncritical and fancily packaged plethora of Third Reich spin-off titles; their cynical marketing, ambiguous sense of awe and sheer repetitive weight of numbers. When the blurb on these books uses embarrassed adjectives like ïhorrifying' to describe their contents, one can't help thinking that whatever is enclosed is not sufficiently horrifying that it stops people buying them, again and again.

There is also the cautionary need to keep Nazism fresh in the memory. But is that what is happening here? Is that why people read these books? A kind of confused admiration would seem just as likely a motive (ïWas Hitler the greatest strategic genius of all time?' runs the fairly typical byline on John Strawson's Hitler As Military Commander). And while Martin Gilbert's last Holocaust-related title The Righteous sold poorly, I was astonished to discover that my shop had an equivalent market for Spellmount Publishing's Hitler Youth In Peace and War 1933-1945, a mostly pictorial effort that doesn't even pretend to be much other than a eulogy.

Most of the current outrage in popular history writing seems to be directed at Stalinism. Fair enough. No sane person would dispute the horror of the man and his regime and there has perhaps been insufficient vilification of both. Except... what re-interpretation does Nazism undergo as a result? Muddying peoples perceptions of Hitler through favourable comparisons with other tyrants is a stated tactic of the current far right. Such a point may seem paranoiac at first glance. But here is art historian Karl Ruhrberg, writing in a Taschen book on 20th Century Art: 'a dangerously simplifying, ostensibly ïobjectifying' historiography is in the process of reducing the unparalleled brutality of the National Socialists to a ïnormal' level by pointing out atrocities committed by others elsewhere.'

In a bookshop, one sees glimpses of such a process at work. A customer recently asked me if I had read Martin Amis' anti-Stalinist broadside Koba The Dread. 'I found it really useful', she said. 'Why do we always go on about Nazi Germany? Russia was much worse.' Which is precisely the type of reaction which would delight the likes of Nick Griffin.

And there lies the problem. For me, the problem with the current anti-Soviet venom, and the notable recent outbreak of Germany-as-underdog war histories, is not so much the books but the climate into which they are being published. Nobody outside of public school or above the age of seventeen has any faith in Soviet Communism. On the other hand, fascism, in all its revised guises, is once again Europe's burgeoning political ideology. It's happening, from governments elected on protectionist racial grounds to Germany's vocal neo-Nazis; from wealthy Swiss organisations funding holocaust denial to Silvio Berlusconi's efforts to introduce fascist-sympathetic textbooks into the Italian national curriculum. And all the while the Hitler press rolls on, flogging books to arguably the same petit bourgeois audience who allowed someone like him to thrive in the first place. It's a bit weird.

As for Amis' and others' concerns with communism, if popular history is to guard us against the resurrection of past evils, something like Koba The Dread is maybe wildly off-point right now, a bit like kicking a dead dog while leaving food out for the wolves.

Maybe this is making a meal of things. Maybe I'm just tired of putting umlaut-adorned books into shopping bags. Maybe I'm conflating serious historical writing and nerdy military tat, interested readers and the Luger and swastika-plate collecting fraternity highlighted in American Beauty. Maybe Nazism doesn't benefit from attacks on Communism. I hope not.

And after all, it's only books.

Jack Boulter


www.tangents.co.uk

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