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I've finished what is easily one of my best books of the year, The Broken House: Growing Up Under Hitler by Horst Krüger. The title could lead you to believe that it's a bog standard memoir, chronological and straightforward, with the subtext "Guilty? Not us!" But it's much more complicated and indirect; the author said it wrote itself. Would that more books wrote themselves in such compelling, beautiful and scorching prose.
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