A Time to Love and a Time to Die is a marvelous book which, despite being very dark and hard to read at times, turned out to be my sweet escape from the real world. It issues World War II, but it can really refer to any everyday routine which seems to suck the life out of us. Because despite there being a very clear story and storyline, this book is above everything else a search for peace, for love, for hope. What I was left with in the end was not the image of the cold muddy Russian fields – I was left with that beautiful small house which resembled paradise in the middle of hell. I was left with a beautiful love story which started so suddenly and lasted so short, but which never really ended. I was left with so many questions when I turned the last page. I was sad, I was surprised, I was angry, and I was crushed having finally understood the damn title. Why couldn’t it have been A Time to Love and a Time to Fight? Why did he have to die? And why did that happen just when he finally stood up for himself, for what he believed was right and for those ungrateful wolves undercover who he thought to be innocent?
This book is the very example of how cruel life sometimes can be, but also of how genius an average man can be. I marvel at the change in the main character from the beginning until the end of the book. And the most horrible thing after all was the fact that only he and his wife were changed, and everything else remained the same. It didn’t matter what he believed in; it didn’t matter what he knew or didn’t know; it didn’t matter if there was someone he loved or not – there was war and he was a soldier, and that was all that mattered. The devastating truth is that Graeber was no one in the face of war, and he was no one in the face of history. And perhaps, there was more than one Graeber in the battlefield.
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