Hope in the Face of Uncertainty

 

I loved The Brunswick by Callie Murray, read it in two days, and found it fully immersive. It’s hard to believe it’s a debut novel, as the narrative weaves seamlessly between a community in Georgia surrounding a hotel that has seen busier days, a daughter’s determination to keep it afloat, a father who built the hotel catering to his wife’s needs, and when she rejects their relationship through abandonment, he checks out, depressed, sleeping his life away, refusing to engage with anyone including family. There are rising issues related to Germans fleeing their country as the Third Reich amasses power, and desperate families attempt to send German children far from the murderous aspects of the ongoing Holocaust. The storyline itself is based upon an actual child transport of 50 children out of the Nazi regime and into the United States (Pennsylvania in real life, but into a small town in Georgia during 1939 in this book). There is a documentary “50 Children: The Rescue Mission of Mr. & Mrs. Kraus,” which covers actual events that inspired this book. 

Prevailing undercurrents of the horrors happening in Nazi Germany increasingly come to light, the fears of Jewish families isolated in their homes; sometimes family members have already been transported to a death camp. It deals with the unimaginable experience of being a child during these times, terrifying if a parent is abruptly taken out of the home by Nazis for parts unknown. Jewish parents increasingly believe they must at least save their children by getting them out of Germany and into a safer country such as Great Britain or The United States. It also deals with the stress these children experience after arriving in a country where they have no family and don’t speak the language. 

When war looms on the horizon, locals sign up to serve in the US military, begin to talk about what they might do as a community to save those who may need asylum from life threatening risks they face in Germany and Austria, and draw up plans of action for meeting asylum needs by giving 50 German children shelter. In this story much was done to prepare the children before arrival, anticipating needs they would have after reaching the hotel in this small Georgia town, and how the community could come together to support the efforts to host these children, and to support each other as well. The characters are well developed and likeable, romance and relationships are formed among the rising generation, even as there seem to be many risks and uncertainties such as war, family members serving abroad, and how those left behind can maintain businesses and farms with reduced demands, and fewer workers.

Despite the rise of global chaos, the underlying theme is not so much the evil in the world, but having hope and strength in the face of uncertainty. It begins with the nuclear family, and how the children are raised. John tells his son Thomas growing up in Germany “…about the owl in their backyard, how his mother prayed for Thomas each time she saw it. Hope in the face of uncertainty, the owl symbolized. Had she seen that ability in Thomas, or had she known he would need the reminder?” At the same time “Papa spoke as if he were reading from Moby-Dick, telling her they would one day sail the ocean. He became an artist again, this time painting a hopeful vision. ‘Let’s hope so,’ Mama responded.” Cora runs her father’s hotel, The Brunswick, and gets to know Thomas when he flees Chicago to rejoin his brother and pharmacist father in the Georgia town. Author Murray notes, “Cora was not yet proficient in this third language of Thomas’s parents, but she was a quick study. Have hope in the face of uncertainty.” With hope comes strength, and you build both families and communities. 

Author Murray writes, “Home was a soft place to land, where you were loved, safe, and free. It was your own tilled row where your roots could grow deep and your branches could spread wide, where others could rest in your shade until they had land of their own.” There is a discussion about grafting fruit trees that has greater implications, “What’s that?” Anders asked, pointing to three tidy rows of trees. “Why are they wrapped like that?” John pointed to the white bandage. “It’s called grafting. We take a branch from one tree and connect it to the trunk of another. They grow together, forming something entirely new.” “‘So you’re telling me this wouldn’t exist if these trees weren’t grafted together?’ John nodded, smiled. Anders looked up at everyone, and his breath caught. Billie couldn’t help but think of the other families like theirs, some still in the making at The Brunswick, and by the sheen that took over Anders’ eyes, she assumed he was thinking the same. They had all been cut, bound, and healed—and little by little, new blooms were beginning to sprout.”