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Before the Deluge: A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s
Before the Deluge begins with Wilhelm II's abdication in 1918 and ends with Hitler's rise to power in 1933 and interweaves Berlin's political, cultural, and social history during that time. Most of what is here has been told before but Friedrich is a skillful narrator whose account of the familiar events is unusually vivid.
418 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1972
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About the author
Otto Friedrich
48 books32 followersOtto Friedrich was born in Boston and graduated from Harvard, where his father was a political science professor. He took a while to find his literary stride. His career took him from the copy desk at Stars and Stripes to a top writing job at Time, with stops in between with the United Press in London and Paris and with The Daily News and Newsweek in New York.
But it was the seven years he spent with The Saturday Evening Post, including four as its last managing editor, that established Mr. Friedrich as a writer to be reckoned with.
When the venerable magazine folded in 1969, Mr. Friedrich, who had seen the end coming and kept meticulous notes, delineated its demise in a book, 'Decline and Fall," which was published by Harper & Row the next year. Widely hailed as both an engaging and definitive account of corporate myopia, the book, which won a George Polk Memorial Award, is still used as a textbook by both journalism and business schools, his daughter said.
From then on, Mr. Friedrich, who had tried his hand as a novelist in the 1950's and 60's and written a series of children's books with his wife, Priscilla Broughton, wrote nonfiction, turning out an average of one book every two years.
They include "Clover: A Love Story," a 1979 biography of Mrs. Henry Adams; "City of Nets: Hollywood in the 1940's" (1986); "Glenn Gould: A Life and Variations," (1989); "Olympia: Paris in the Age of Manet," (1992), and "Blood and Iron," a study of the Von Moltke family of Germany that is being published this fall.
He wrote his books, as well as reams of freelance articles and book reviews, while holding down a full-time job with Time that required him to write in a distinct style far different from the one he used at home.
Mr. Friedrich, who joined Time as a senior editor in 1971 and retired in 1990 after a decade as a senior writer, wrote 40 major cover stories, the magazine said yesterday, as well as hundreds of shorter pieces, all of them produced on an old-fashioned Royal typewriter that he was given special dispensation to continue using long after the magazine converted to computers.
Mrs. Lucas, portraying her father as a New England moralist whose life and literary interests reflected his disenchantment with much of 20th-century culture, noted that his aptitude for anachronism did not end with typewriters. "We have five rotary telephones in this house," she said.
In addition to pursuing his eclectic interests into print, Mr. Friedrich also had a knack for turning his own life into art. When he tried to grow roses, the record of his failure became a book, "The Rose Garden" (1972). When relatives were stricken with schizophrenia, his frustration drove him to produce an exhaustive study of insanity, "Going Crazy" (1976).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews
May 20, 2021
This book is on Berlin between 1918 and 1933 when the Nazis took over the government. It is about the era of the fated Weimar Republic – a republic that most Germans disdained. They saw it, among other things, as a forced handover from the despised Allied powers (France, England, and the United States).
This book at almost 400 pages covers a city wrapped in tumult and ambiguities. It is overly long with many digressions. For example, the author not only introduces us to Einstein, but feels obligated to expound over a few pages on his theory of relativity (I felt I was in a physics class); the same for Arnold Schoenberg and Alban Berg. He also likes to set forth on film theory as well. He does go into the social impact of these new ideas, but the technicalities were of little interest to me.
The author also had a tendency to revert suddenly to interviews in the present – in this case the 1960s when the book was being written. Sometimes I found this diverting and unnecessary.
I did find his explanations of the various social movements in Berlin – from communism to Nazism to Dadaism fascinating. There was much violence and street fighting between members of these disparate groups. You come away with an impression of a city that was increasingly absorbed by nihilism and the hopelessly of the Weimar government. Extremism and anarchism mixed with hate became increasingly popular.
The author discusses the rise of the Nazi Party and he is correct that by the mid-1920s Nazism and Adolf Hitler were looking like a footnote in German history. What I don’t agree with is the author classifying Hitler as insane. Hitler was able to function very well politically and was a master manipulator of people. He understood the undertones of German society. There is no doubt that his ideas were demented and horrific – but insane he wasn’t.
So, the social aspects covered are compelling, but when the author rambled into the technicalities of film, art, and science I groaned. There was a lack of an organized flow.
This book at almost 400 pages covers a city wrapped in tumult and ambiguities. It is overly long with many digressions. For example, the author not only introduces us to Einstein, but feels obligated to expound over a few pages on his theory of relativity (I felt I was in a physics class); the same for Arnold Schoenberg and Alban Berg. He also likes to set forth on film theory as well. He does go into the social impact of these new ideas, but the technicalities were of little interest to me.
The author also had a tendency to revert suddenly to interviews in the present – in this case the 1960s when the book was being written. Sometimes I found this diverting and unnecessary.
I did find his explanations of the various social movements in Berlin – from communism to Nazism to Dadaism fascinating. There was much violence and street fighting between members of these disparate groups. You come away with an impression of a city that was increasingly absorbed by nihilism and the hopelessly of the Weimar government. Extremism and anarchism mixed with hate became increasingly popular.
The author discusses the rise of the Nazi Party and he is correct that by the mid-1920s Nazism and Adolf Hitler were looking like a footnote in German history. What I don’t agree with is the author classifying Hitler as insane. Hitler was able to function very well politically and was a master manipulator of people. He understood the undertones of German society. There is no doubt that his ideas were demented and horrific – but insane he wasn’t.
So, the social aspects covered are compelling, but when the author rambled into the technicalities of film, art, and science I groaned. There was a lack of an organized flow.
November 25, 2013
A superb "survey" of Berlin in the 20s by a writer who
appreciates the fantasticalities of the era. It encompasses
everyone fr Fritz Lang to Marlene to Grosz and Hitler's niece
Geli Raubal, the murdered Walther Rathenau and aesthete Harry Kessler. The torchlight parades begin, the candles gutter.
How/ why did the Nazis come to power? Erich Fromm blamed it on "the authoritarian personality," which he considered typical of Ger's lower-middle class (this is true of many countries, including US). Wilhelm Reich disagreed. "There is not a single person who does not bear the elements of fascist feeling and thinking," he wrote. Author Friedrich also asked a top German thinker who was silent a long time. Then he said very slowly, very carefully : "I don't know."
appreciates the fantasticalities of the era. It encompasses
everyone fr Fritz Lang to Marlene to Grosz and Hitler's niece
Geli Raubal, the murdered Walther Rathenau and aesthete Harry Kessler. The torchlight parades begin, the candles gutter.
How/ why did the Nazis come to power? Erich Fromm blamed it on "the authoritarian personality," which he considered typical of Ger's lower-middle class (this is true of many countries, including US). Wilhelm Reich disagreed. "There is not a single person who does not bear the elements of fascist feeling and thinking," he wrote. Author Friedrich also asked a top German thinker who was silent a long time. Then he said very slowly, very carefully : "I don't know."
October 17, 2021
Otto Friedrich’s Before the Deluge offers a riotous collage of life in Weimar Berlin, from the collapse of the Kaiser through the rise of Adolf Hitler. During those remarkable years, Berlin hosted a massive amount of excitement and creative ferment: failed Communist revolutions and military putsches; riots, assassinations and serial killings; the poverty, hunger and rampant inflation that afflicted the poor while German industrialists flourished; the Republic’s earnest attempts to solidify democracy in the midst of chaos; the rise of Expressionist art, innovative cinema and experimental theater; the liberation of women and radicalization of men; scientific progress and political reaction. Friedrich makes clear that intersections between politics and creativity weren’t easy to avoid. One could, for instance, take refuge from March 1920′s Kapp Putsch by attending the premiere of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, a horror movie climaxing with the revelation that a madman rules the asylum. A conclusion that, for many Germans, must have seemed as inescapable in life as onscreen.
Written in 1972, Deluge reconstructs events more or less chronologically, albeit divided into thematic chapters. Friedrich’s interviews with survivors of the era are interwoven with diaries and memoirs from Christopher Isherwood, Harry Kessler and others, providing a fascinating immediacy. He provides absorbing accounts of the Spartakus Rebellion and Kapp Putsch, and a minute-by-minute reconstruction of the June 1922 murder of Foreign Minister Walther Rathenau, which graphically symbolized the Republic’s vulnerability. Friedrich’s equally able, and energetic, capturing the era’s cultural achievements: entire chapters detail the production of Josef von Sternberg’s The Blue Angel and Fritz Lang’s M, actors Marlene Dietrich, Lotte Lenya and Peter Lorre, the “Epic Theater” of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill, the literary world of Thomas Mann and Vladimir Nabokov, the architectural innovations of Mies van der Rohe, the scientific disputes of Albert Einstein and Werner Heisenberg. Even so, hindsight ensures that a shadow looms over everything; Weimar’s doom, inevitably, becomes the central narrative.
Friedrich sympathizes with the efforts of Weimar’s leaders to create a free society, but notes how their incompetence and uncertainty made them an easy mark for extremists. The hapless socialist Friedrich Ebert, inheriting a country riven by military defeat and internal chaos, sanctions the paramilitary Freikorps to crush the Spartakists. The resulting repression, climaxing in the murders of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht, permanently antagonizes the Left while handing the Right a sword to destroy the Republic. Even stronger figures than Ebert fall somewhere between absurd and tragic. Like Rathenau, the liberal, Jewish industrialist whose ascent bolsters the Right’s psychotic antisemitism. Or Gustav Stresemann, the brilliant economist who stabilizes inflation, negotiates a reduction in Germany’s war debts and treaties with its neighbors, but becomes overwhelmed by politics. Nor can they dispel the class grievances that energize the Left, or the Right’s “stab-in-the-back” myth blaming World War I on Jews.
Eventually, Social Democrats and liberals lose the Presidency to Paul von Hindenburg, the WWI hero who shares the military’s distaste for democracy. Under Hindenburg’s auspices, power becomes more centralized in the Presidency, with the post of Chancellor a revolving door of mediocrities (Bruning, Von Papen, Schleicher) and the Reichstag increasingly fragmented. Political violence wanes for a time, but at the cost of emergency decrees that undermine civil liberties. Thus, the Republic is already teetering when the Great Depression obliterates its chance for survival. Hitler and the Nazis (who struggled to establish themselves in Berlin) are bit players here, with only Joseph Goebbels (the Party’s Berlin Gauleiter) receiving much attention as he tries to square Hitler’s proletarian rhetoric with his courtship of industrial and military elites. Even so, the forces animating Nazism consumed German society long before Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor. It’s hard to see, in Friedrich’s account, how Weimar (its constitution “a document in search of a people”) could have survived with so many of its leaders hostile towards democracy.
Friedrich’s book is an unabashed popular history, and his treatment of specialist subjects (particularly the chapters on science and music) might strike serious scholars as superficial. In particular, he uncritically adopts Siegfried Kracauer’s notions that Weimar cinema offered a psychological x-ray of its times, which many writers now consider superficial. In its weakest passages Deluge reflects the time in which it was written, as when Friedrich compares German radicals of the ‘20s with the contemporary student Left, indulges in casual homophobia (we are, of course, reminded of Ernst Rohm's predilections) or dismisses pioneering sex researcher Magnus Hirschfeld as a “pseudo-scientific pornographer.” These demerits are likely unavoidable in a fifty year old book. On the whole, Deluge remains a robust, eminently readable portrait of a fascinating epoch; an exploration of how chaos and creativity coincide; and a warning about how easily democracy can be swept away by extremism, instability and a lack of will.
Written in 1972, Deluge reconstructs events more or less chronologically, albeit divided into thematic chapters. Friedrich’s interviews with survivors of the era are interwoven with diaries and memoirs from Christopher Isherwood, Harry Kessler and others, providing a fascinating immediacy. He provides absorbing accounts of the Spartakus Rebellion and Kapp Putsch, and a minute-by-minute reconstruction of the June 1922 murder of Foreign Minister Walther Rathenau, which graphically symbolized the Republic’s vulnerability. Friedrich’s equally able, and energetic, capturing the era’s cultural achievements: entire chapters detail the production of Josef von Sternberg’s The Blue Angel and Fritz Lang’s M, actors Marlene Dietrich, Lotte Lenya and Peter Lorre, the “Epic Theater” of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill, the literary world of Thomas Mann and Vladimir Nabokov, the architectural innovations of Mies van der Rohe, the scientific disputes of Albert Einstein and Werner Heisenberg. Even so, hindsight ensures that a shadow looms over everything; Weimar’s doom, inevitably, becomes the central narrative.
Friedrich sympathizes with the efforts of Weimar’s leaders to create a free society, but notes how their incompetence and uncertainty made them an easy mark for extremists. The hapless socialist Friedrich Ebert, inheriting a country riven by military defeat and internal chaos, sanctions the paramilitary Freikorps to crush the Spartakists. The resulting repression, climaxing in the murders of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht, permanently antagonizes the Left while handing the Right a sword to destroy the Republic. Even stronger figures than Ebert fall somewhere between absurd and tragic. Like Rathenau, the liberal, Jewish industrialist whose ascent bolsters the Right’s psychotic antisemitism. Or Gustav Stresemann, the brilliant economist who stabilizes inflation, negotiates a reduction in Germany’s war debts and treaties with its neighbors, but becomes overwhelmed by politics. Nor can they dispel the class grievances that energize the Left, or the Right’s “stab-in-the-back” myth blaming World War I on Jews.
Eventually, Social Democrats and liberals lose the Presidency to Paul von Hindenburg, the WWI hero who shares the military’s distaste for democracy. Under Hindenburg’s auspices, power becomes more centralized in the Presidency, with the post of Chancellor a revolving door of mediocrities (Bruning, Von Papen, Schleicher) and the Reichstag increasingly fragmented. Political violence wanes for a time, but at the cost of emergency decrees that undermine civil liberties. Thus, the Republic is already teetering when the Great Depression obliterates its chance for survival. Hitler and the Nazis (who struggled to establish themselves in Berlin) are bit players here, with only Joseph Goebbels (the Party’s Berlin Gauleiter) receiving much attention as he tries to square Hitler’s proletarian rhetoric with his courtship of industrial and military elites. Even so, the forces animating Nazism consumed German society long before Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor. It’s hard to see, in Friedrich’s account, how Weimar (its constitution “a document in search of a people”) could have survived with so many of its leaders hostile towards democracy.
Friedrich’s book is an unabashed popular history, and his treatment of specialist subjects (particularly the chapters on science and music) might strike serious scholars as superficial. In particular, he uncritically adopts Siegfried Kracauer’s notions that Weimar cinema offered a psychological x-ray of its times, which many writers now consider superficial. In its weakest passages Deluge reflects the time in which it was written, as when Friedrich compares German radicals of the ‘20s with the contemporary student Left, indulges in casual homophobia (we are, of course, reminded of Ernst Rohm's predilections) or dismisses pioneering sex researcher Magnus Hirschfeld as a “pseudo-scientific pornographer.” These demerits are likely unavoidable in a fifty year old book. On the whole, Deluge remains a robust, eminently readable portrait of a fascinating epoch; an exploration of how chaos and creativity coincide; and a warning about how easily democracy can be swept away by extremism, instability and a lack of will.
August 1, 2011
Throughout history there have been periods of calm between storms, to use the cliché, though these might be better described as illusions or mirages. I’m thinking of Weimar Germany, specifically of the period from the end of the post-war inflation in 1923, a time which saw the revaluation of all values, and the Great Depression of 1929, a time which saw the devaluation of all lives.
This was the golden age, to use yet another cliché, a period when the country flourished, sustained by short-term credit allowed for under the Dawes Plan, a scheme to stabilise the German economy and thus secure a continuing stream of reparation payments to the victorious allies. The whole thing was built on an absurdity that simply could not last, a belief in no tomorrows.
But that today, while it lasted, produced a mini-renaissance almost without parallel in history. It was the time of Walter Gropius and the Bauhaus, the time of George Groz, Albert Einstein, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Weil, Arnold Schoenberg, Lotte Lenya, Peter Lorre, Marlene Dietrich and so many others, architects, musicians, scientists, writers, actors, singers, players of all sorts who strutted and fretted their hour upon a brilliant stage. What players; what a theatre.
In Before the Deluge: A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s Otto Friedrich comes as a spectator, charmed, captivated and bewildered all at the same time. I have mixed feelings about this book, an interesting though somewhat uneven treatment of an important subject. Although it is offered as a portrait of Berlin, and a good bit of the action is set there, it’s really more of a general political and cultural history of Weimar Germany, one not confined to the 1920s.
It’s quite an old book now, originally published as long ago as 1972 at a time when many of the people who witnessed life in Germany before the rise of Hitler were still alive and able to give accounts of their experiences. There are artists, intellectuals and scientists. But where are the ordinary people, where are the ordinary Germans, the Berliners themselves? If you are looking for a fluent social history this is not it.
What is it exactly? Let me put it this way. The chapter dealing with the new scientific theories of the day – God Does Not Play at Dice – shows how all certainty seemed to vanish, all notions of predictability and Newtonian law. Instead the universe was depicted by Werner Heisenberg and others as something quite random, a bit like a Dada montage, after the artistic movement more given to anarchy than order. Well, this is a Dada book, with bits and pieces falling here and there!
I hope I’m not being too harsh; there is certainly a lot here to intrigue and charm, but it lacks focus - the overall treatment is far too random. Friedrich does not seem clear over what he is trying to achieve. There is a bit of everything: a bit of political history, a bit of social history, a bit of intellectual history, of the arts, of music, of architecture, of the theatre, of the cinema. All are visited but with no real thoroughness.
The anecdotes of people like Lotte Lenya are certainly interesting but in the end I felt a sense of frustration. The lengthy account of the political intrigues and machinations which saw Hitler emerge as Chancellor in January 1933 is really quite pedestrian, material far better handled elsewhere.
The problem is the author is not true to his subject. There is no real intimacy and too much incidental chatter. After over three hundred pages I was no closer to understanding what life was like at this time in the German capital than I was at the outset. Although far less sweeping in scope, Roger Moorhouses’s Berlin at War: Life and Death in Hitler’s Capital, 1939-45 is a much more assured, mole’s eye view of life in the city.
I did enjoy Before the Deluge to a degree but it did not satisfy my hunger, a hunger to know what life was really like in one of the most intriguing cities in one of the most intriguing times in history. I want to know what it was like to be there on the opening night of Die Dreigroschenoper – The Three Penny Opera – specifically at the point when the Kanonen-Song was heard for the first time, turning the mood of the audience, the creation of one of the theatre’s greatest spectacles. That would have been something. Alas, I shall just have to wait.
This was the golden age, to use yet another cliché, a period when the country flourished, sustained by short-term credit allowed for under the Dawes Plan, a scheme to stabilise the German economy and thus secure a continuing stream of reparation payments to the victorious allies. The whole thing was built on an absurdity that simply could not last, a belief in no tomorrows.
But that today, while it lasted, produced a mini-renaissance almost without parallel in history. It was the time of Walter Gropius and the Bauhaus, the time of George Groz, Albert Einstein, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Weil, Arnold Schoenberg, Lotte Lenya, Peter Lorre, Marlene Dietrich and so many others, architects, musicians, scientists, writers, actors, singers, players of all sorts who strutted and fretted their hour upon a brilliant stage. What players; what a theatre.
In Before the Deluge: A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s Otto Friedrich comes as a spectator, charmed, captivated and bewildered all at the same time. I have mixed feelings about this book, an interesting though somewhat uneven treatment of an important subject. Although it is offered as a portrait of Berlin, and a good bit of the action is set there, it’s really more of a general political and cultural history of Weimar Germany, one not confined to the 1920s.
It’s quite an old book now, originally published as long ago as 1972 at a time when many of the people who witnessed life in Germany before the rise of Hitler were still alive and able to give accounts of their experiences. There are artists, intellectuals and scientists. But where are the ordinary people, where are the ordinary Germans, the Berliners themselves? If you are looking for a fluent social history this is not it.
What is it exactly? Let me put it this way. The chapter dealing with the new scientific theories of the day – God Does Not Play at Dice – shows how all certainty seemed to vanish, all notions of predictability and Newtonian law. Instead the universe was depicted by Werner Heisenberg and others as something quite random, a bit like a Dada montage, after the artistic movement more given to anarchy than order. Well, this is a Dada book, with bits and pieces falling here and there!
I hope I’m not being too harsh; there is certainly a lot here to intrigue and charm, but it lacks focus - the overall treatment is far too random. Friedrich does not seem clear over what he is trying to achieve. There is a bit of everything: a bit of political history, a bit of social history, a bit of intellectual history, of the arts, of music, of architecture, of the theatre, of the cinema. All are visited but with no real thoroughness.
The anecdotes of people like Lotte Lenya are certainly interesting but in the end I felt a sense of frustration. The lengthy account of the political intrigues and machinations which saw Hitler emerge as Chancellor in January 1933 is really quite pedestrian, material far better handled elsewhere.
The problem is the author is not true to his subject. There is no real intimacy and too much incidental chatter. After over three hundred pages I was no closer to understanding what life was like at this time in the German capital than I was at the outset. Although far less sweeping in scope, Roger Moorhouses’s Berlin at War: Life and Death in Hitler’s Capital, 1939-45 is a much more assured, mole’s eye view of life in the city.
I did enjoy Before the Deluge to a degree but it did not satisfy my hunger, a hunger to know what life was really like in one of the most intriguing cities in one of the most intriguing times in history. I want to know what it was like to be there on the opening night of Die Dreigroschenoper – The Three Penny Opera – specifically at the point when the Kanonen-Song was heard for the first time, turning the mood of the audience, the creation of one of the theatre’s greatest spectacles. That would have been something. Alas, I shall just have to wait.
March 24, 2019
This was a terrific read, highly evocative of politics and culture in 20s Berlin. The perspective from the post-war divided city is dated and I'm sure scholarship has advanced in some areas, but that doesn't detract from its high level of interest.
Read
December 16, 2022There are certain times and places that are so heavily mythologized, especially by those in the bohemian classes: '70s NYC, Belle Epoque Paris, and pertinent to Friedrich, Weimar Berlin. And of course it's made all the poignant by, well, what came after.
This is hardly anything new, but if you're anything like me, there is little more glorious than basking in such a world while you can. To hear the stories of that time, back then. And praying that in the hear and now, that it's not the click-clack of the Freikorps' boots you hear in the distance.
This is hardly anything new, but if you're anything like me, there is little more glorious than basking in such a world while you can. To hear the stories of that time, back then. And praying that in the hear and now, that it's not the click-clack of the Freikorps' boots you hear in the distance.
August 12, 2012
Before the Deluge is a social history of Berlin during the Weimar Republic from 1919 to 1933, covering traditional politics, economics, social conditions, cultural politics, the arts, and the lives of ordinary Berliners and the movers and shakers. It’s rich, dense, insightful, and full of interesting commentary and anecdotes based on the author’s experiences, documentary research, and interviews with key actors still alive in the late 1960s. Rapidly expanding in population size, Berlin during the 1920s was a city of turbulent and vibrant change – governments coming and going; unions and the army vying for power; communists, socialists and fascists fighting running battles, assassinating rivals, and waging propaganda wars; the currency crashing to worthlessness followed by an economic boom and then another crash; cabaret, theatre, movies and music flourishing; social order becoming liberalised with widespread naturism and promiscuity at the same time that anti-semitism grows steadily; crime, prostitution and drug taking becoming rife; and the intellectual elite in psychoanalysis, physics, architecture and other disciplines flocking to the city.
What Friedrich’s book makes very clear is that there was nothing predestined about the rise of Nazism and the collapse of the Weimar Republic. It was the culmination of a complex set of contingent, relational process, not some teleological inevitability, and in Berlin the National Socialists never received more than 25 percent of the vote despite Goebbels best efforts (nor more than 44 percent nationally). Criminals have always found a route to political power. Usually it is through some kind of coup. Hitler tried this in the earlier 1920s and failed. Where he succeeded was through the democratic process. Ultimately ordinary, innocent people voted criminal minds into office thus ensuring the end of democracy and the descent into megalomaniacal nationalism. What that has tended to do is blind us to the fact that Germany was a cauldron of competing ideologies through the whole period of the Third Reich – we fall into the trap of seeing Germans at that time as a monolithic nation of fanatical fascists. And that’s what is so refreshing about Philip Kerr’s novels - Gunther is an anti-Nazi cop trying to get by in a corrupt regime. If you want to get a sense of Germany in the 1920s and the path to fascist power, then Friedrich’s book is a great place to start.
What Friedrich’s book makes very clear is that there was nothing predestined about the rise of Nazism and the collapse of the Weimar Republic. It was the culmination of a complex set of contingent, relational process, not some teleological inevitability, and in Berlin the National Socialists never received more than 25 percent of the vote despite Goebbels best efforts (nor more than 44 percent nationally). Criminals have always found a route to political power. Usually it is through some kind of coup. Hitler tried this in the earlier 1920s and failed. Where he succeeded was through the democratic process. Ultimately ordinary, innocent people voted criminal minds into office thus ensuring the end of democracy and the descent into megalomaniacal nationalism. What that has tended to do is blind us to the fact that Germany was a cauldron of competing ideologies through the whole period of the Third Reich – we fall into the trap of seeing Germans at that time as a monolithic nation of fanatical fascists. And that’s what is so refreshing about Philip Kerr’s novels - Gunther is an anti-Nazi cop trying to get by in a corrupt regime. If you want to get a sense of Germany in the 1920s and the path to fascist power, then Friedrich’s book is a great place to start.
June 6, 2016
I suspect that -- were I to re-read this again today -- I might up this by a star. The problem with the book is not what's in it, but what's left out. You want Friedrich to give you more, because what he gives you is so good.
Otto Friedrich took a unique approach to popular histories that influenced later writers who often haven't managed to succeed with the same deftness. I still think his masterpiece is City of Nets: A Portrait of Hollywood in the 1940s which I awarded five stars. But this book about the wild Weimar period in Germany between World War I and the early days of Hitler is solid and satisfying. Friedrich's approach is to find various snippets of anecdote and string them together into a kaleidoscopic and idiosyncratic blend that provides an unavoidably sketchy but flavorful portrait that further allows him to reflect on the meaning of the historical currents and darker undercurrents. In this, his cast of characters includes Christopher Isherwood, Albert Einstein, Adolf Hitler, Marlene Dietrich, Kurt Weill, Fritz Lang, and more.
There is probably no more eminently readable way to toe-dip into the culture of the inter-war period in Germany than this book.
(KevinR@Ky, 2016)
Otto Friedrich took a unique approach to popular histories that influenced later writers who often haven't managed to succeed with the same deftness. I still think his masterpiece is City of Nets: A Portrait of Hollywood in the 1940s which I awarded five stars. But this book about the wild Weimar period in Germany between World War I and the early days of Hitler is solid and satisfying. Friedrich's approach is to find various snippets of anecdote and string them together into a kaleidoscopic and idiosyncratic blend that provides an unavoidably sketchy but flavorful portrait that further allows him to reflect on the meaning of the historical currents and darker undercurrents. In this, his cast of characters includes Christopher Isherwood, Albert Einstein, Adolf Hitler, Marlene Dietrich, Kurt Weill, Fritz Lang, and more.
There is probably no more eminently readable way to toe-dip into the culture of the inter-war period in Germany than this book.
(KevinR@Ky, 2016)
December 30, 2020
History that reads like an exciting novel, covering the Weimar Republic, 1918 to 1933. Within the structural confines of one chapter per year, Friedrich successfully interweaves all of the main players in art, politics, literature, music, theater - essentially all aspects of the culture - as his tale unfolds and comes to a devastating climax.
While it may not appeal to everyone, it's on my top ten favorite books list.
While it may not appeal to everyone, it's on my top ten favorite books list.
March 13, 2020
"Before the Deluge" is dramatized in the German series, "Babylon Berlin," that's running in English on Netflix (season 3 was just released), and a novel by the same name.....
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Here's the famous nightclub scene from the first season. It captures the mood of the time perfectly.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30PPd...
Fantastic background blog on the first two seasons of Babylon Berlin....
http://art-for-a-change.com/blog/2018...
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Here's the famous nightclub scene from the first season. It captures the mood of the time perfectly.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30PPd...
Fantastic background blog on the first two seasons of Babylon Berlin....
http://art-for-a-change.com/blog/2018...
March 8, 2018
The Goodreads algorithm that predicts books that you might like is getting to know me exceptionally well. I used to ignore the recommendations that Goodreads made for me, because they seemed totally off. But increasingly, I find that I check out the book summary, and it is entirely up my alley. Dang. Kudos to you, Goodreads programmers.
I love to read up on German history, ever since my LDS mission there in 2009. But I'm very particular about the kind of books I read. It seems all Americans want to know about Germany is World War II-- but there is SOO much more there than Hitler and Nazis and Blitzkrieg!! I do enjoy learning about World War II history as well, but I want to capture an image of Germany as a whole. This book certainly does discuss aspects of World War II and Hitler, but I was intrigued by the author's approach; the book is about Berlin in the interlude period between World War I and World War II in the era of the fragile democracy between Imperial Germany and the Third Reich. So the events leading up to Nazi Germany. And you would be surprised-- the events in the book show that Nazism was by no means a foregone conclusion. In addition, the author covers more than politics and military matters-- the "important stuff" that most history books focus on, with maybe a tad of economics. Brecht tries to capture a complete picture of Berlin-- the arts, including film, drama, architecture, art, and music, and literature; science (you have to mention Einstein, right?); crime; scandals of the era; and entertainment. It's probably the closest you could be to experiencing 1920s Berlin that you can get. It's massive in scope, and very well executed.
The book is organized chronologically, with each chapter being dedicated to a year between 1918 and 1933. But superimposed on this apparently linear structure is a series of interviews with former residents of post-war Berlin, quite similar to the last book on Germany on read Stasiland. Some are still living in Germany, while others are in America and Britain. Interesting to note that when the book was written, the Berlin Wall was still up, and a couple interviewees mention experiences behind the wall as well. As such, the reader should be warned to keep track of "when" they are. The mix of interviews and history bring the portrait of Berlin to life that the author is seeking to achieve.
The first revelation for me was the leftovers from Imperial Germany. For some reason, I have always felt that after WWI, Germany became an insta-democracy. Well, it did. It happened nearly overnight. But Germans themselves still felt a national pride, and they felt that it was missing once the Kaiser abdicated. The new democracy was looked on as weak and despicable. The conservative movement was essentially a desire to go back tot the old imperial days. Remnants of the old Imperial order got carried over into the new democratic government, perhaps best exemplified in the form of President Hindenburg, the former general and war hero under Kaiser Wilhelm during WWI. These citizens weren't Nazis by any means. In fact, they found Hitler despicable. But as the current government apparently failed and failed again at solving foreign and domestic issues, including runaway inflation and resolution of war reparations, the Nazis increasingly seemed to be the only ones who could get things done.
Building off the previous note, I also learned how fragile the Weimar republic actually was, as the government of that era was known (I learned it's called the Weimar republic because that's where the constitutional convention was held due to unrest in Berlin). And for several reasons. First, the fall of the empire brought a call for Revolution with a capital R. Before the Nazis were even on the scene, Communists were trying to claim Germany for Bolshevism. Immediately after the Kaiser fell, a Communist named Liebknecht nearly walked into the Reichstag and declared a People's Republic as a satellite of the USSR. Secondly, the mixture of both conservative imperialists and radical leftists left very few middle-of-the-road types to keep a democracy running. I liked this summary of the situation from the author: The troubles that were to come stemmed not from the Constitution, which, like all Constitutions, was simply a piece of paper, but from the society that the Constitution was supposed to represent. It was a society fiercely divided against itself, divided not only between extremes of radical and conservative ideology but between classes, regions, and religions... Richard Watts has observed, 'The constitution... drafted at Weimar... began and would end as a document in search of a people.'"
I really liked Friedrich's analysis of the Weimar Constitution. Built into the apparently democratic Constitution were some fatal flaws that ultimately led to the republic's demise. I suppose you can't blame everything on the Constitution, but it sure sped up the process:
It had been drafted by Hugo Preuss, a professor of law at the University of Berlin, a liberal, and a Jew. Since Germany had had little experience with a constitutional government-- neither had most other nations, for that matter-- Preuss had pieced together what he considered the best features of all functioning systems. Like America, the new "Weimar Republic" would have a strong president, elected by the people; like Britain, it would have a Chancellor responsible to the legislature; like France, it would protect minority interests through proportional representation; like Imperial Germany, it would retain, though on a limited scale, the autonomy of the provincial state governments. In retrospect, we know that the Weimar Constitution had dangerous weaknesses. Provincial autonomy permitted the Nazis to flourish in Bavaria under the protection of compliant state authorities; proportional representation caused such a proliferation of small parties (at the end there were forty groups in the Reichstag) that representative government came to a standstill; and the famous Article 48 which empowered the President to rule by decree, eventually led to the installation of Adolf Hitler in the Chancellery.
I loved learning as the story of Berlin unfolded. In addition to Hitler, the only names most people know are the big Nazis (Goebbels, Goering, Himmler). You do learn a little of their backstories. But for me, this gives you a false impression that the Germans just like of gave up and accepted Hitler's regime. It was a lot more gradual. Hitler had to play by the rules (kind of) at first. I was surprised that Hitler was still electable after, you know, overthrowing a state government (Bavaria). That would kind of be held against you in a national election, right? You learn of Dadaism, the artistic movement that rejected meaning (Tazar, Breton, Pacabia). You learn about musicians pushing the boundaries (Shoenberg, Busoni). You learn Communist writers of the day discontented with the current system, but also dedicated to a kind of submission (Brecht, Piscator). You learn about the leaders of the Communist movement calling the massive strikes that Berliners were so good at (Liebknecht, Luxembourg). You learn of some of the unpopular politicians who took the blame for the government's failures (Rathenau, Erzberger). You learn of the former imperial generals and commanders who played a big role in the next regime (Groener, Hindenberg, Ludendorff). You learn of the machinations in the military (Seeckt, Schleicher, Luettwitz). You learn of the more competent and the very incompetent Chancellors (Ebert, Scheidemann, Streseman, Bruening, von Papen). You learn about internal power conflicts within the Nazi party (Roem, Strasser). OK, clearly I was more interested in the politics and power struggles. Some of the discussion of arts and literature is fascinating, but other times I felt like a novice and couldn't appreciate it fully. The most engaging parts in these sections were where I already had an in (like learning of the production of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, which I had the opportunity of seeing). But some of these folks seem long forgotten. I tried finding some of the mentioned authors on Goodreads, and hardly any titles appear. Still, I liked the big picture approach and seeing how ideas developed over time.
Excellent book. The favorite book I have read on Germany thus far!
I love to read up on German history, ever since my LDS mission there in 2009. But I'm very particular about the kind of books I read. It seems all Americans want to know about Germany is World War II-- but there is SOO much more there than Hitler and Nazis and Blitzkrieg!! I do enjoy learning about World War II history as well, but I want to capture an image of Germany as a whole. This book certainly does discuss aspects of World War II and Hitler, but I was intrigued by the author's approach; the book is about Berlin in the interlude period between World War I and World War II in the era of the fragile democracy between Imperial Germany and the Third Reich. So the events leading up to Nazi Germany. And you would be surprised-- the events in the book show that Nazism was by no means a foregone conclusion. In addition, the author covers more than politics and military matters-- the "important stuff" that most history books focus on, with maybe a tad of economics. Brecht tries to capture a complete picture of Berlin-- the arts, including film, drama, architecture, art, and music, and literature; science (you have to mention Einstein, right?); crime; scandals of the era; and entertainment. It's probably the closest you could be to experiencing 1920s Berlin that you can get. It's massive in scope, and very well executed.
The book is organized chronologically, with each chapter being dedicated to a year between 1918 and 1933. But superimposed on this apparently linear structure is a series of interviews with former residents of post-war Berlin, quite similar to the last book on Germany on read Stasiland. Some are still living in Germany, while others are in America and Britain. Interesting to note that when the book was written, the Berlin Wall was still up, and a couple interviewees mention experiences behind the wall as well. As such, the reader should be warned to keep track of "when" they are. The mix of interviews and history bring the portrait of Berlin to life that the author is seeking to achieve.
The first revelation for me was the leftovers from Imperial Germany. For some reason, I have always felt that after WWI, Germany became an insta-democracy. Well, it did. It happened nearly overnight. But Germans themselves still felt a national pride, and they felt that it was missing once the Kaiser abdicated. The new democracy was looked on as weak and despicable. The conservative movement was essentially a desire to go back tot the old imperial days. Remnants of the old Imperial order got carried over into the new democratic government, perhaps best exemplified in the form of President Hindenburg, the former general and war hero under Kaiser Wilhelm during WWI. These citizens weren't Nazis by any means. In fact, they found Hitler despicable. But as the current government apparently failed and failed again at solving foreign and domestic issues, including runaway inflation and resolution of war reparations, the Nazis increasingly seemed to be the only ones who could get things done.
Building off the previous note, I also learned how fragile the Weimar republic actually was, as the government of that era was known (I learned it's called the Weimar republic because that's where the constitutional convention was held due to unrest in Berlin). And for several reasons. First, the fall of the empire brought a call for Revolution with a capital R. Before the Nazis were even on the scene, Communists were trying to claim Germany for Bolshevism. Immediately after the Kaiser fell, a Communist named Liebknecht nearly walked into the Reichstag and declared a People's Republic as a satellite of the USSR. Secondly, the mixture of both conservative imperialists and radical leftists left very few middle-of-the-road types to keep a democracy running. I liked this summary of the situation from the author: The troubles that were to come stemmed not from the Constitution, which, like all Constitutions, was simply a piece of paper, but from the society that the Constitution was supposed to represent. It was a society fiercely divided against itself, divided not only between extremes of radical and conservative ideology but between classes, regions, and religions... Richard Watts has observed, 'The constitution... drafted at Weimar... began and would end as a document in search of a people.'"
I really liked Friedrich's analysis of the Weimar Constitution. Built into the apparently democratic Constitution were some fatal flaws that ultimately led to the republic's demise. I suppose you can't blame everything on the Constitution, but it sure sped up the process:
It had been drafted by Hugo Preuss, a professor of law at the University of Berlin, a liberal, and a Jew. Since Germany had had little experience with a constitutional government-- neither had most other nations, for that matter-- Preuss had pieced together what he considered the best features of all functioning systems. Like America, the new "Weimar Republic" would have a strong president, elected by the people; like Britain, it would have a Chancellor responsible to the legislature; like France, it would protect minority interests through proportional representation; like Imperial Germany, it would retain, though on a limited scale, the autonomy of the provincial state governments. In retrospect, we know that the Weimar Constitution had dangerous weaknesses. Provincial autonomy permitted the Nazis to flourish in Bavaria under the protection of compliant state authorities; proportional representation caused such a proliferation of small parties (at the end there were forty groups in the Reichstag) that representative government came to a standstill; and the famous Article 48 which empowered the President to rule by decree, eventually led to the installation of Adolf Hitler in the Chancellery.
I loved learning as the story of Berlin unfolded. In addition to Hitler, the only names most people know are the big Nazis (Goebbels, Goering, Himmler). You do learn a little of their backstories. But for me, this gives you a false impression that the Germans just like of gave up and accepted Hitler's regime. It was a lot more gradual. Hitler had to play by the rules (kind of) at first. I was surprised that Hitler was still electable after, you know, overthrowing a state government (Bavaria). That would kind of be held against you in a national election, right? You learn of Dadaism, the artistic movement that rejected meaning (Tazar, Breton, Pacabia). You learn about musicians pushing the boundaries (Shoenberg, Busoni). You learn Communist writers of the day discontented with the current system, but also dedicated to a kind of submission (Brecht, Piscator). You learn about the leaders of the Communist movement calling the massive strikes that Berliners were so good at (Liebknecht, Luxembourg). You learn of some of the unpopular politicians who took the blame for the government's failures (Rathenau, Erzberger). You learn of the former imperial generals and commanders who played a big role in the next regime (Groener, Hindenberg, Ludendorff). You learn of the machinations in the military (Seeckt, Schleicher, Luettwitz). You learn of the more competent and the very incompetent Chancellors (Ebert, Scheidemann, Streseman, Bruening, von Papen). You learn about internal power conflicts within the Nazi party (Roem, Strasser). OK, clearly I was more interested in the politics and power struggles. Some of the discussion of arts and literature is fascinating, but other times I felt like a novice and couldn't appreciate it fully. The most engaging parts in these sections were where I already had an in (like learning of the production of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, which I had the opportunity of seeing). But some of these folks seem long forgotten. I tried finding some of the mentioned authors on Goodreads, and hardly any titles appear. Still, I liked the big picture approach and seeing how ideas developed over time.
Excellent book. The favorite book I have read on Germany thus far!
May 16, 2020
Exceptional.
I am always fascinated by placing historical occurrences in order, even if they have no obvious link; especially in the inter-war periods that I have a particular fascination with. I know that 'Metropolis' was released in 1927, the same year Lovecraft wrote 'The Colour out of Space'...but did Lovecraft ever see Metropolis, and if so what did he think of it? As it was he kept meaning too but always seemed to miss it when it was playing locally...anyway, I digress.
What Otto Friedrich achieves here is taking the full spectrum of what was happening in a single City and makes those parallels with ease, an ease brought about by a mindboggling level of research and understanding. I also like the fact that this was written in the early 70's (released 1972), 50 years closer to events than I am now, and a whole lot of history, later. Friedrich researches where he needs to and interviews where he can and he is objective enough to know when to raise doubt on someone's remembrances that maybe don't quite tally '...for every ten Berliners still alive today, three claim to have been at the opening [of the Threepenny Opera]'...including W.H.Auden.
Where the real skill is in where he weaves the story of the rise of Hitler through each cultural event, but not to the detriment of other connections that may be less obvious. How the chapter on 'The Blue Angel' moves seamlessly to the Zeppelins, through Vladimir Nabokov, Einstein, Brecht/Weill/Lenya, Germany's Finances, The Wall Street Crash, the UFA and back to The Blue Angel is quite a wonderful trip to take.
It is easy to miss the ever present violence on the streets of Berlin during this time; the historical events such as the burning of the Reichstag may be well known, but the period starts with snipers, gun battles in the streets and assassinations...and pretty much finishes with the same; with riots, beatings and fistfights an ever present. It brings to mind Harry Lime's great speech how so much incredible art can come from such a violent time. Dadaism, the Bauhaus, Gropius, Grosz, Dix; Brecht (and all that come with him) are dealt with in depth, but Piscator is not forgotten; Fritz Lang is both loved and hated by apparently everyone and Peter Lorre may just be the most important actor of the time.
I have added so may books to my 'to read' list, music to listen to and have been reminded of names that had slipped from my memory, inviting me to revisit Berlin once again...and when I get lost in all the upheaval, this will be the book I return to, to remind me of the most extraordinary place and time.
I am always fascinated by placing historical occurrences in order, even if they have no obvious link; especially in the inter-war periods that I have a particular fascination with. I know that 'Metropolis' was released in 1927, the same year Lovecraft wrote 'The Colour out of Space'...but did Lovecraft ever see Metropolis, and if so what did he think of it? As it was he kept meaning too but always seemed to miss it when it was playing locally...anyway, I digress.
What Otto Friedrich achieves here is taking the full spectrum of what was happening in a single City and makes those parallels with ease, an ease brought about by a mindboggling level of research and understanding. I also like the fact that this was written in the early 70's (released 1972), 50 years closer to events than I am now, and a whole lot of history, later. Friedrich researches where he needs to and interviews where he can and he is objective enough to know when to raise doubt on someone's remembrances that maybe don't quite tally '...for every ten Berliners still alive today, three claim to have been at the opening [of the Threepenny Opera]'...including W.H.Auden.
Where the real skill is in where he weaves the story of the rise of Hitler through each cultural event, but not to the detriment of other connections that may be less obvious. How the chapter on 'The Blue Angel' moves seamlessly to the Zeppelins, through Vladimir Nabokov, Einstein, Brecht/Weill/Lenya, Germany's Finances, The Wall Street Crash, the UFA and back to The Blue Angel is quite a wonderful trip to take.
It is easy to miss the ever present violence on the streets of Berlin during this time; the historical events such as the burning of the Reichstag may be well known, but the period starts with snipers, gun battles in the streets and assassinations...and pretty much finishes with the same; with riots, beatings and fistfights an ever present. It brings to mind Harry Lime's great speech how so much incredible art can come from such a violent time. Dadaism, the Bauhaus, Gropius, Grosz, Dix; Brecht (and all that come with him) are dealt with in depth, but Piscator is not forgotten; Fritz Lang is both loved and hated by apparently everyone and Peter Lorre may just be the most important actor of the time.
I have added so may books to my 'to read' list, music to listen to and have been reminded of names that had slipped from my memory, inviting me to revisit Berlin once again...and when I get lost in all the upheaval, this will be the book I return to, to remind me of the most extraordinary place and time.
January 13, 2021
I suppose I expected more from a book subtitled "A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s". Written in the 1970s, and based in part on interviews with survivors of that era, the author squandered the opportunity to learn and report more about actual daily life in the city during those turbulent years, not just about its more famous inhabitants.
On the positive side, it does not overwhelm with the political wrangling; just enough to provide a comprehensive understanding. The remainder of the book is an interesting survey of the Weimar era's leading cultural and scientific figures--Brecht, Einstein, Nabokov, Gropius, and others--though by far the most in-depth character study is that of Joseph Goebbels. Nevertheless, the "portrait" of 1920s Berlin, of daily life and even the look and feel of the city, is left to a few tantalizing quotes from Christopher Isherwood and a very few German writers, underscoring for me that the best way to understand that time and place is to revisit the novelists and playwrights who captured Berlin's essence better than this textbook.
On the positive side, it does not overwhelm with the political wrangling; just enough to provide a comprehensive understanding. The remainder of the book is an interesting survey of the Weimar era's leading cultural and scientific figures--Brecht, Einstein, Nabokov, Gropius, and others--though by far the most in-depth character study is that of Joseph Goebbels. Nevertheless, the "portrait" of 1920s Berlin, of daily life and even the look and feel of the city, is left to a few tantalizing quotes from Christopher Isherwood and a very few German writers, underscoring for me that the best way to understand that time and place is to revisit the novelists and playwrights who captured Berlin's essence better than this textbook.
September 7, 2025
A chilling history of the Weimar Republic that feels as prescient today as ever. Friedrich offers not just a well-researched account of the politics of the era, but also vivid portraits of the artists, scientists, and intellectuals who lived through—and in many ways were shaped by—this turbulent time. Germany, and especially Berlin, between the world wars was a boiling pot of contradictions, and this book masterfully weaves those threads together.
Reading it in 2025, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the echoes of our own moment. The rise of authoritarian movements, the weaponization of propaganda, the disillusionment of ordinary citizens—it all feels uncomfortably familiar. Friedrich reminds us that democracy is fragile, and that culture and politics are always intertwined. One hopes that today, enough of us are awake, well-read, and willing to resist history repeating itself.
Reading it in 2025, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the echoes of our own moment. The rise of authoritarian movements, the weaponization of propaganda, the disillusionment of ordinary citizens—it all feels uncomfortably familiar. Friedrich reminds us that democracy is fragile, and that culture and politics are always intertwined. One hopes that today, enough of us are awake, well-read, and willing to resist history repeating itself.
July 4, 2024
Another 3.5 star book
December 2, 2025
Incredible. One of the best history books I’ve ever read.
November 25, 2009
In the decade or so following the turmoil betwixt World Wars, the city of Berlin considered itself to be a land of Denker und Dichter ("thinkers and poets"). Of course, these years of rampant inflation and mandatory war reparations (in the vicinity of 3 billion marks per year until the ultimate monetary cost of World War I was completely repaid singularly by Germany), the imminent possibility of collapse lurked behind shadowy corners at all times.
But after 1924 or so, once the German mark had somewhat stabilized, things began to take on a less lugubrious tone. The arts began to flourish, and the market began to show prosperity. The people were beginning to show signs of relief, and as long as the trains were running - it was said at the time - then life in Berlin was always going to be tolerable.
Otto Friedrich studies Berlin year-by-year, from the beleaguered end of World War I (1918) through the rise of the Nazi Party (1933), thus covering the basis of the 1920s without omitting the prelude to the decade, nor the aftermath. And it is not just a military history he presents in Before the Deluge - in fact, the details presented herein are enough to paint the political landscape of the day with all the necessary elements (the abdication of Kaiser Wilhelm II, the violence of the infamous Spartakist Week, the various assassinations, etc.), but do not overshadow the cultural developments which took place during and after each pinnacle event. Friedrich interviews some of the familiar faces of the day - some 50 years later, in many cases - as well as presents the reader with a map of both the Berlin of the 1920s, and of the year Before the Deluge was published (in 1972, when there was still a Berlin Wall to consider).
Perhaps as best as any documentarian is able, Friedrich brings the ruined streets of old Berlin back to their former state, filled with the rambunctious theatre "rioters" and dope-pushers. The faces are brought back to their shining vibrancy - Albert Einstein, Fritz Lang, Bertolt Brecht, and the lovely Lotte Lenya, for instance... While one cannot negate the negativism which engulfed the torn, shattered city of Thinkers and Poets, the innate beauty and power of Berlin is strongly reflected upon the effect made upon the entire world.
Before the Deluge is not another war chronicle, though it does not look away from the root causes of what led Germany into World War II, either. While Friedrich is careful not to speculate - or to place blame - on why the Nazis came to power so easily, the reality portrayed can lead one who was not there to see some of the driving forces behind its rise to absolute power, and to perhaps understand a little better some of the docility in accepting the Party's mandates of the 1930s.
In 1932, as Germany's own democratic system began to facilitate the entry of one of the world's most cataclysmic regimes into power... for some period of time, the trains in Berlin ceased running.
But after 1924 or so, once the German mark had somewhat stabilized, things began to take on a less lugubrious tone. The arts began to flourish, and the market began to show prosperity. The people were beginning to show signs of relief, and as long as the trains were running - it was said at the time - then life in Berlin was always going to be tolerable.
Otto Friedrich studies Berlin year-by-year, from the beleaguered end of World War I (1918) through the rise of the Nazi Party (1933), thus covering the basis of the 1920s without omitting the prelude to the decade, nor the aftermath. And it is not just a military history he presents in Before the Deluge - in fact, the details presented herein are enough to paint the political landscape of the day with all the necessary elements (the abdication of Kaiser Wilhelm II, the violence of the infamous Spartakist Week, the various assassinations, etc.), but do not overshadow the cultural developments which took place during and after each pinnacle event. Friedrich interviews some of the familiar faces of the day - some 50 years later, in many cases - as well as presents the reader with a map of both the Berlin of the 1920s, and of the year Before the Deluge was published (in 1972, when there was still a Berlin Wall to consider).
Perhaps as best as any documentarian is able, Friedrich brings the ruined streets of old Berlin back to their former state, filled with the rambunctious theatre "rioters" and dope-pushers. The faces are brought back to their shining vibrancy - Albert Einstein, Fritz Lang, Bertolt Brecht, and the lovely Lotte Lenya, for instance... While one cannot negate the negativism which engulfed the torn, shattered city of Thinkers and Poets, the innate beauty and power of Berlin is strongly reflected upon the effect made upon the entire world.
Before the Deluge is not another war chronicle, though it does not look away from the root causes of what led Germany into World War II, either. While Friedrich is careful not to speculate - or to place blame - on why the Nazis came to power so easily, the reality portrayed can lead one who was not there to see some of the driving forces behind its rise to absolute power, and to perhaps understand a little better some of the docility in accepting the Party's mandates of the 1930s.
In 1932, as Germany's own democratic system began to facilitate the entry of one of the world's most cataclysmic regimes into power... for some period of time, the trains in Berlin ceased running.
March 22, 2013
I first read Otto Friedrich's fascinating glimpse into post World War I Berlin in 1975. I have since returned to its pages many, many times. For, as its title promises, it is a portrait of Berlin that peeks into the music, science, film, theater, and literature of the era as well as the political clashes between Nazis and Communists. In many ways, it supplies a certain cultural heft to the more glitzy and glamorous vision of Berlin that appeared at about the same time as this book but on Broadway and in film, Cabaret. Fittingly, Friedrich's passage on Christopher Isherwood and Cabaret, then, is one of his best. As these lines from page 347 of my old Avon paperback edition give testimony:
. . . Isherwood succeeded, precisely by focusing his camera on the lost and rejected, in producing a matchless portrait of the city. But in transferring Ishwerwood's work to Broadway, the various creators of Cabaret decided that all the idiosyncratic characters of The Berlin Stories must become a series of types, and thus caricatures. Sally Bowles had to become a sprightly ingenue: Herr Issyvoo himself had to become a pink-cheeked American tenor named Clifford Bradshaw, and the tormented, self-destructive spirit of Berlin had to become a rousing chorus in which everyone sings, "Life is a cabaret".
Friedrich drew his portrait of the city and its people directly from the participants themselves. As such, because his work appeared 40 to 50 years after Berlin's cultural supernova, it today reads as if it were the visible remnants of some luminescent scroll of a bygone era whose own heat and vigor has long since failed.
. . . Isherwood succeeded, precisely by focusing his camera on the lost and rejected, in producing a matchless portrait of the city. But in transferring Ishwerwood's work to Broadway, the various creators of Cabaret decided that all the idiosyncratic characters of The Berlin Stories must become a series of types, and thus caricatures. Sally Bowles had to become a sprightly ingenue: Herr Issyvoo himself had to become a pink-cheeked American tenor named Clifford Bradshaw, and the tormented, self-destructive spirit of Berlin had to become a rousing chorus in which everyone sings, "Life is a cabaret".
Friedrich drew his portrait of the city and its people directly from the participants themselves. As such, because his work appeared 40 to 50 years after Berlin's cultural supernova, it today reads as if it were the visible remnants of some luminescent scroll of a bygone era whose own heat and vigor has long since failed.
Read
March 1, 2018Bowie Book Club has been a great excuse to read books I maybe wouldn't otherwise have read. I don't think I would have stumbled upon Otto Friedrich's "Before the Deluge," but I'm glad I did. The book filled in some gaps in my education about the period between the end of WWI and the start of WWII. The book balances the political landscape and developments and characters in the arts and sciences in Berlin at the time, which makes for a great schizophrenic portrait of the city and time.
http://www.bowiebookclub.com/episodes...
http://www.bowiebookclub.com/episodes...
January 2, 2008
Like the "City of Nets," Otto Friedrich has put together a series of stories and voices regarding Berlin during the Twenties. All the great Berliners are in this book - including the evil one's. For sure it's the sister or brother to the "City of Nets" volume. So what one gets (like City of Nets) are the politics, the arts, and the crazy and fascinating characters that made up Berlin, at its most dizzing heights.
April 20, 2018
This book blew me away. I think it's hard to provide a disinterested view of Weimar years replete with the difficulties that Berliners encountered, and yet didn't fail to find the beautiful and the strange which is what we live for-a testament to the human spirit.
Of course, all before it went to shit
Of course, all before it went to shit
July 19, 2007
A detailed and readable historical/cultural account of Berlin between WWI and WWII. A great read, especially for Berlin enthusiasts or those traveling there, or even if just desultorily in occasional chapters.
October 7, 2015
Fantastic book, I found it after reading his Great non-fiction book on Los Angeles ex-pats during the war, "City of Nets." Which I recommend to every New Yorker who insists LA has no history or culture.
November 3, 2010
A year-by-year examination of Berlin in the 1920s (actually starts in 1918 after the war); filled with political and cultural figures who influenced the times.
June 16, 2013
One of the best histories I've ever read. A detailed and engaging depiction of the explosion of intellectualism, music, art -- and hate -- that took place in Berlin between the world wars.
August 25, 2013
Had it on the shelf for a number of years before reading it. Darker than the other Friedrich books I've read. But it did induce me to read Isherwood's Berlin Stories shortly afterwards.
Read
February 27, 2016ב׳הערה בדבר המקורות׳ ביבליוגרפיה מעניינת לפרקים: 2,4,6,8,10,12,13,15
May 10, 2022
This is a broad book, spanning over many different areas, like culture, politics and crime. But, in a way, it is a book about Berlin and Germany trying to find it’s identity after the catastrophe of the First World War.
In Imperial Germany there was no coups in because it was very stable system, but the Weimar republic was instead repeatedly shaken by fanatical groups trying to take power. In addition, during the decade several assassinations of leading political persons was done.
Those parties who often seem so powerful in demonstrations and street fighting are most of the time not so powerful at the ballot box. But in the Weimar republic we notice several dangerous weaknesses.
Provincial autonomy makes extremists the possibility of existing locally (like the Nazis in Bavaria), proportional representation caused a proliferation of small parties (at the end over 40 groups in the Reichstag), and Article 48, which empowered the President to rule by decree was extremely dangerous if extremists got its hands on it.
But the constitution is just the framework, a society is more than that. The German society of the Twenties was fiercely divided against itself, not only between extremes of radical and conservative ideology, but between classes, regions and religions. It faced intellectual demoralization after the defeat in World War One and its effects, the reparations, the gigantic casaulties, the loss of territories and the shame. There was no unifying figure, like the Emperor for Japan after WW2 since the German Emperor had been forced to abdicate.
The old order had lost its prestige, and the Twenties was overflowing with young people who thought they were in the sign of God. The youth talked enthusiastically about liberation, a rebellion against the system, against their parents. They were intensely idealistic (remember even the Nazis thought of themselves so). The younger generations, always the first to denounce a blundering establishment, now considered both the Nazis and the Communists parties of youth and revolt.
Nazism and Communism was a neurotic defense against loss of identity on a national scale. For a nation searching for its soul, the Weimar republic could not stand against both these political religions.
The readiness for violence from these two factions, and the unwillingness of the Weimar republic to defend itself with violence doomed the republic.
It ended with Hitlers grab for power. The German revolution had begun. Endless lines of people, many with torches, marched singing through the streets of Berlin. It was a wild national jubilation, a new era had started. Above all, youth, youth was getting its due and the Nation had its soul again. But it was a very, very black one.
In Imperial Germany there was no coups in because it was very stable system, but the Weimar republic was instead repeatedly shaken by fanatical groups trying to take power. In addition, during the decade several assassinations of leading political persons was done.
Those parties who often seem so powerful in demonstrations and street fighting are most of the time not so powerful at the ballot box. But in the Weimar republic we notice several dangerous weaknesses.
Provincial autonomy makes extremists the possibility of existing locally (like the Nazis in Bavaria), proportional representation caused a proliferation of small parties (at the end over 40 groups in the Reichstag), and Article 48, which empowered the President to rule by decree was extremely dangerous if extremists got its hands on it.
But the constitution is just the framework, a society is more than that. The German society of the Twenties was fiercely divided against itself, not only between extremes of radical and conservative ideology, but between classes, regions and religions. It faced intellectual demoralization after the defeat in World War One and its effects, the reparations, the gigantic casaulties, the loss of territories and the shame. There was no unifying figure, like the Emperor for Japan after WW2 since the German Emperor had been forced to abdicate.
The old order had lost its prestige, and the Twenties was overflowing with young people who thought they were in the sign of God. The youth talked enthusiastically about liberation, a rebellion against the system, against their parents. They were intensely idealistic (remember even the Nazis thought of themselves so). The younger generations, always the first to denounce a blundering establishment, now considered both the Nazis and the Communists parties of youth and revolt.
Nazism and Communism was a neurotic defense against loss of identity on a national scale. For a nation searching for its soul, the Weimar republic could not stand against both these political religions.
The readiness for violence from these two factions, and the unwillingness of the Weimar republic to defend itself with violence doomed the republic.
It ended with Hitlers grab for power. The German revolution had begun. Endless lines of people, many with torches, marched singing through the streets of Berlin. It was a wild national jubilation, a new era had started. Above all, youth, youth was getting its due and the Nation had its soul again. But it was a very, very black one.
June 12, 2021
Note: my edition of this book was not listed under the different editions option, it's a pretty beat-up paperback edition from 1972 or so and I don't know if the edition that I picked is any different from the one I read, so...
Berlin in the era of the Weimar Republic (1918 to 1933) was a vibrant, exciting city that was also deep in the throes of tumult after the end of the First World War and the rise of Hitler. Otto Friedrich captures the contradictions that made Berlin so unique in this engaging social and political history of the capital city and its discontents during the 1920's.
Beginning with the Kaiser's abdication in 1918, "Before the Deluge" uses chronology to address various aspects of Berlin's social life through the 1920's and up to the rise of Hitler in 1933. It's fair to say that I love to read books about Germany's fraught history during the twentieth century, and this is one of the best I've ever read about the Weimar era, when Germany tried half-heartedly to embrace democracy before giving in to the appeals of the Nazi Party in the wake of the Great Depression and the chaotic governmental process of so many different chancellors over so short a time. Gone was the certainty of Wilhelm II's reign, but in the moment that Germany had a chance to change her course, many laid the groundwork for the most horrific of modern dictatorships to emerge.
Berlin in the 1920's was at a unique place in world history; never a favorite of Hitler and the Nazis, the city was the breeding ground for new heights in art, music, theater, and literature, as well as the nascent form of cinema. It was truly an artistic paradise for many, but the city was also home to some of the worst violence of the interwar era, clashes between Communists and right-wing groups leading to a hefty butcher's bill on both sides. The revolution that the Communists promised in the wake of the Kaiser's fall would not be theirs, however; it would be the efforts of the more conservative elements in German society to try and hold off any changes. They would eventually embrace a madman from the Austrian border who would unleash carnage on a massive scale. But before then, Berlin shined like a beacon across the country, the continent, and the world.
This was a fun book to read, enlightening and humorous while also tackling serious issues and addressing the Nazi elephant in the room of how exactly Hitler went from a footnote to an era of German and world history. It's peppered with interviews from those who were there, and captures not just the heavy earth-shaking events but also the smaller moments that defined a city and a century. I can't recommend this book enough.
Berlin in the era of the Weimar Republic (1918 to 1933) was a vibrant, exciting city that was also deep in the throes of tumult after the end of the First World War and the rise of Hitler. Otto Friedrich captures the contradictions that made Berlin so unique in this engaging social and political history of the capital city and its discontents during the 1920's.
Beginning with the Kaiser's abdication in 1918, "Before the Deluge" uses chronology to address various aspects of Berlin's social life through the 1920's and up to the rise of Hitler in 1933. It's fair to say that I love to read books about Germany's fraught history during the twentieth century, and this is one of the best I've ever read about the Weimar era, when Germany tried half-heartedly to embrace democracy before giving in to the appeals of the Nazi Party in the wake of the Great Depression and the chaotic governmental process of so many different chancellors over so short a time. Gone was the certainty of Wilhelm II's reign, but in the moment that Germany had a chance to change her course, many laid the groundwork for the most horrific of modern dictatorships to emerge.
Berlin in the 1920's was at a unique place in world history; never a favorite of Hitler and the Nazis, the city was the breeding ground for new heights in art, music, theater, and literature, as well as the nascent form of cinema. It was truly an artistic paradise for many, but the city was also home to some of the worst violence of the interwar era, clashes between Communists and right-wing groups leading to a hefty butcher's bill on both sides. The revolution that the Communists promised in the wake of the Kaiser's fall would not be theirs, however; it would be the efforts of the more conservative elements in German society to try and hold off any changes. They would eventually embrace a madman from the Austrian border who would unleash carnage on a massive scale. But before then, Berlin shined like a beacon across the country, the continent, and the world.
This was a fun book to read, enlightening and humorous while also tackling serious issues and addressing the Nazi elephant in the room of how exactly Hitler went from a footnote to an era of German and world history. It's peppered with interviews from those who were there, and captures not just the heavy earth-shaking events but also the smaller moments that defined a city and a century. I can't recommend this book enough.
July 22, 2025
Man, that was a long book. I've read longer, but this just seemed about as long. I usually read the author's notes after the main text, but after the first page, skipped the rest. I was just so DONE with the book.
Not that it's a bad book. If you have any curiosity about WWII, or how the Great Depression hit countries other than America, or history in general -- then this book will answer some, but not all, of your questions. It bounces from topic to topic, from politics to novels to art and so on, so that this book has it's own weather system. You know, like the old joke -- if you don't like the weather, just wait 15 minutes.
This book introduced me to the movies of Fritz Lang, who I've tried to avoid because as a small child I made the grave mistake of trying to watch Metropolis and getting so bored my eyes actually began tearing up. In between the first page describing M and the second, I watched the movie on YouTube. It was AWESOME.
So, if you don't want any bunch of movies, books and plays spoiled, you might have to put this book down and spend a lot of time on YouTube and the Internet Archive.
This, of course, makes this book a bit hard to follow when you get back to it. You might have to make a list of some of the key people mentioned in politics, the military and who the fuck was running the Bauhaus in order to keep things strait. Or, expect to spend a LOT of time Googling all of the folks you forgot on the way to and from The Threepenny Opera.
This was one of the books on David Bowie's Top 100 list, made more interesting since Bowie spent a key part of his career in Berlin (which, in typical 1970s fashion, tried to find a great place to kick a cocaine addiction, by inadvertently moving to the heroin capital of Europe.) This wasn't the only reason why I chose this book over dozens more on his list I've yet to, or never will, read.
I had a brief trip to Berlin to see a Peter Gabriel concert. (Long story.) I only got a tantalizing glimpse when I was felled with a massive migraine. When I had to go, the owner of the place I was staying was shocked. "Only THREE DAYS in BERLIN?"
So, I go back in books, documentaries or concerts or David Bowie's Berlin trilogy.
Not that it's a bad book. If you have any curiosity about WWII, or how the Great Depression hit countries other than America, or history in general -- then this book will answer some, but not all, of your questions. It bounces from topic to topic, from politics to novels to art and so on, so that this book has it's own weather system. You know, like the old joke -- if you don't like the weather, just wait 15 minutes.
This book introduced me to the movies of Fritz Lang, who I've tried to avoid because as a small child I made the grave mistake of trying to watch Metropolis and getting so bored my eyes actually began tearing up. In between the first page describing M and the second, I watched the movie on YouTube. It was AWESOME.
So, if you don't want any bunch of movies, books and plays spoiled, you might have to put this book down and spend a lot of time on YouTube and the Internet Archive.
This, of course, makes this book a bit hard to follow when you get back to it. You might have to make a list of some of the key people mentioned in politics, the military and who the fuck was running the Bauhaus in order to keep things strait. Or, expect to spend a LOT of time Googling all of the folks you forgot on the way to and from The Threepenny Opera.
This was one of the books on David Bowie's Top 100 list, made more interesting since Bowie spent a key part of his career in Berlin (which, in typical 1970s fashion, tried to find a great place to kick a cocaine addiction, by inadvertently moving to the heroin capital of Europe.) This wasn't the only reason why I chose this book over dozens more on his list I've yet to, or never will, read.
I had a brief trip to Berlin to see a Peter Gabriel concert. (Long story.) I only got a tantalizing glimpse when I was felled with a massive migraine. When I had to go, the owner of the place I was staying was shocked. "Only THREE DAYS in BERLIN?"
So, I go back in books, documentaries or concerts or David Bowie's Berlin trilogy.
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