There’s nothing like a war to bring down morals

This is a well-regarded novel concerning the occupation of Holland in WWII. I had never heard about the ariter or the book itself but a fellow Cannonballer did a review that grabbed my interest.

Henri Osewoudt (O) is kind a hapless schlub, seemingly drifting into most things in his life. When he was 10 years old, his mother, who had previously been institutionalized, apprently went off her nut again and killed her husband in the tobacco shop they owned. O is taken in my his uncle and aunt and immediately falls into an intimate relationship with his cousin Ria. When his mother is released from the hospital, he decides to reopen the family shop so he can take care of her and takes Ria as his wife.

Then the Nazi’s come to town. Nothing much has actually changed for O until one day a Dutch soldier comes into his shop to drop off some film to developed. He could be O’s twin, only he is dark where O is fair, has a voice far manlier than O’s high squeek, and can actually grow a beard. This soldier calls himself Dorbeck. As Dorbeck draws O deeper and deeper into the intrigue of the resistance, the novel then takes off like your typical wartime thriller, while keeping the feeling of the absurd. By the last third or so of the novel, O is being accused of treason and that desperate feeling of dread is with me still. I didn’t particularly like O, but his story was oddly compelling and the questions raised about wartime occupy me still.