A Dive into Humanity: A Review of 33 Place Brugmann by Alice Austen
When I stumbled upon 33 Place Brugmann by Alice Austen, I was immediately captivated by the idea of exploring the lives of everyday people in a time of crisis—World War II. There’s something profoundly human about stories that drill down to personal experiences amidst global upheaval, and I couldn’t resist diving into this tale set in an apartment building in Brussels on the eve of the Nazi invasion. Having received a review copy from the publisher via Netgalley, I was eager to see how Austen skillfully navigated this complex backdrop.
From the very first chapter, it’s clear that 33 Place Brugmann is a tale of community, of fractured relationships, and of the chaos that war brings. Each chapter shines a light on a different resident of the titular building, creating an ensemble cast that feels like a lively yet troubled family. While the overarching theme questions how people adapt to dramatic changes in their lives, it also dives into the messiness of human nature. Characters are portrayed with all their flaws and regrets—each one feeling achingly human, filled with hopes and dreams left half-formed.
Austen’s writing style strikes me as refreshingly European in tone. There’s a certain rawness that feels far removed from the polished narratives typical of American WWII novels. This narrative choice enhances the authenticity of the characters’ tumultuous lives, leaving readers grappling with the reality that their stories, much like those of countless individuals during the war, don’t lend themselves to neat resolutions. There’s a haunting quality to the prose that lingers long after reading, perhaps encapsulated in the mundane struggle for rations or the bitter undercurrents of betrayal during such uncertain times.
However, my reading experience was unfortunately marred by the formatting issues of the uncorrected proof. I found myself struggling with awkward text wrapping, erratic breaks, and even titles popping up unexpectedly within the narrative. I can only hope that these major concerns are rectified in the final version, as the content certainly deserves a more polished presentation.
A particularly memorable element of the book is its subtle incorporation of the supernatural. Characters experience night visions—are they manifestations of stress, illness, or something otherworldly? This eerie layer adds depth to the narrative without overshadowing the gripping realities of war and its psychological toll. It’s reflective of the constant uncertainties faced by those who lived through such turbulent times.
In conclusion, I would recommend 33 Place Brugmann to anyone seeking a WWII narrative that feels authentic and raw, focusing on the intricacies of human relationships rather than grand heroic gestures. Though the uncorrected proof comes with its challenges, the story itself is one that resonates—gritty, complex, and ultimately human. It’s a read that invites us to consider how we might respond when our worlds are suddenly upended and what it means to hold on to our community in the face of such relentless change. If you’re intrigued by the seamless blend of the banal and the bizarre during tumultuous times, keep an eye out for the official release next March—you won’t want to miss this one!