Book Review: Family Histories of World War II: Survivors and Descendants by Roisin Healy and Gearoid Barry

or Hell. The trapped man is simply depicted as stewing in his own juice in the present. Even so, God (Mon Dieu) is constantly invoked by the speakers in the dialogues, with an occasional saint thrown in for good measure (for example, Saint Jean, 24; Sainte Catherine, 52). Sometimes devils are invoked in oaths, such as “par tous les diables” (82) or “Par Dieu” [I swear to God, 96). One remarkable feature of this text (3–4), which is introduced at the outset (though not addressed in the earlier introductions by the editor or translator), is the author’s political remarks on liberty and the status of France. “La nature humaine,” he says, “recherche naturellement la liberté et l’indépendance. Ainsi, plusieurs grandes seigneuries ont été perdues, parce que leurs princes ont porté atteinte à la liberté de leurs sujets.” After summarizing how the French have broken with the Holy Roman Empire, he asserts that “toutes les personnes réduites en esclavage ont désiré venir en France pour y vivre libres; ainsi, la France est devenue la terre la plus noble du monde, la plus opulente, la plus peuplée et la mieux garnie en édifices, florissante en richesse, science et sagesse, éclairée par la foi catholique et autres vertus.” Another point of interest is the author’s awareness of changes in fashion, both for women and men. The author refers to a husband’s out-of-date spurs, “éperons du temps du roi Clotaire” (74), or states explicitly that since the wars in Flanders (1380s?), “la coupe du vêtements a entretemps changé” (74). To conclude, I will note that the author offers no proposals for changing the prevailing system of marriage: it is what it is—a trap. Nowhere does he offer, for example, a vision of harmonious partnership in wedlock (à la John Stuart Mill, in his landmark 1869 book On the Subjection of Women, which was immediately translated into French and many other European languages) in contrast to his view that there is an eternal war between the sexes, even though his depiction of husbands and wives in dialogue indicates that they refer to one another as “Mon ami” and “Mon amie”. The anonymous author does not critique the Church’s monopoly on sanctifying marriage, nor does he propose that a prince’s government would or could do better by his subjects, who (in the author’s view) are mainly useful for fighting the prince’s wars and for paying taxes. Certainly, he has no intent whatsoever of authorizing women’s emancipation, or even their better character “education,” much less schooling. It seems to be too early in the history of French civilization for any of that. In sum, the text exudes a fatalistic view of the human condition, of how men and women must necessarily be at odds, which some of us no longer share today. And yet, in conclusion, and despite his depiction of the ostensible “joys” of marriage, the author acknowledges that men cannot get along without women.