Albeit I have read Evelyn Sanders’ childhood memoirs of growing up in the Third Reich and also in the immediate post WWII period (until 1948 to be exact, when Evelyn’s mother decided to migrate with her daughter from the city of Berlin to Düsseldorf) at least four times (and counting, as I will more than likely reread in the near future), I do also have to admit that I have until very recently always felt rather personally uncomfortable as a German for having so much enjoyed the author’s humorous writing style and with my feelings of guilt being especially present because Pellkartoffeln und Popcorn, while of course and naturally dealing mostly with the everyday life experiences of young Evelyn and her family during WWII and beyond, the book also never once really brings the Holocaust into play or that the Nazis were utterly and totally a vile and disgusting dictatorship that basically terroised not only Europe but the entire world.
However, upon my most recent rereadings of Pellkartoffeln und Popcorn, I have certainly come to a majorly different conclusion with regard to what author Evelyn Sanders has not included in her memoirs of her German WWII girlhood. For since Evelyn Sanders indeed was a child during the Third Reich (she was born in 1934, one year after Adolf Hitler and the National Socialists gained power), she obviously has written her remembrances of that time from the point of view of a child (who was barely eleven years of age at the end of WWII). And therefore, the anecdotes and memories about which Evelyn Sanders writes in Pellkartoffeln und Popcorn are of course the ones that she actually and actively remembers from her own girlhood and it would most likely not have been the case for her, for the author to have known and been aware of much if any details regarding the Holocaust etc. (as that type of information was considered at best dangerous and certainly kept away from children as any knowledge thereof was actually regarded as potential treason by the Nazis).
Thus, while part of me still continues to be a bit bothered by the fact that Pellkartoffeln und Popcorn does for the most part quite totally ignore the horrors of Naziism, I do have to admit that the book actually also feels considerably more authentic because of this, as a detailed account of Holocaust horrors and the like in a memoir penned in and from the point of view of a young German girl who was just fourteen years of age in 1948 (the date when Evelyn Sanders ends her memoirs), well, this would in my opinion make Pellkartoffeln und Popcorn appear as somewhat artificial in scope and not so much like Evelyn Sanders’ autobiographical memoirs anymore.