La disparition de Joseph Mengele by Olivier Guez (review)

The bibliography accompanying this award-winning novel (Prix Renaudot 2017) contains unusual finds and unexpected surprises for the main reason that it is not easy to classify some of the references that follow the main body of the novel. The preparatory research work of the novelist is apparent in these pages containing references in three languages. Although Guez has previously published nonfiction about the aftermath of the Second World War on the Jewish population of Germany (L'impossible retour: une histoire des juifs en Allemagne depuis 1945), still another reason this lengthy bibliography (four pages in addition to a one-page introductory text) surprises is that it would seem that only the work of a novelist could encompass so many disciplines, with examples drawn from different realms of humanist endeavor such as history, memoirs, travel accounts, as well as poetry and novels. The universality of some (Dante) compares to the impossibility of classifying others (Kafka) as somehow being related to this account of the disappearance and death of Josef Mengele in South America after the Second World War. It is perhaps a point that needs making anew after the reading of the novelistic (read fictionalized) account, in the words of the author a "forme romanesque" (233) of the true life of a modern historical figure. Who has never heard of Josef Mengele, the Nazi doctor at Auschwitz? Just reading the title is enough to cause a chill to run up the spine. But this is a most sober account where words are weighed carefully and adjectives chosen to counterbalance the tendency to idealize and then idolize the central characters of novels that resonate, and eventually to make heroes of them. From details such as the "muddy river water," the opening sentence seems to want to establish a contract with the reader not to overdo it: "Le North King fend l'eau boueuse du fleuve" (13). In a first paragraph Guez paints a scene of European passengers in despair on board a ship entering the harbor of Buenos Aires, until he arrives at Mengele, who is then described as chewing things over. Readers thus enter Mengele's consciousness by the detour of an informal expression, "ruminer" (13), which is a sudden change in tone that should cause amusement. From there, the character of Mengele proceeds from one pitiful adventure to another. Even the title of the first part, Le pacha, seems at least mildly ironic since Mengele is seen almost always coming up short. Of course, in a way superior to Philip Kerr, who has written a novel on a similar subject dutifully included among the references, Guez manages also to create and maintain suspense in a tale that mixes both narrative form and historical facts surrounding the aftermath of one of the most utterly horrible human experiences of the twentieth century.