When I arrived in Paris in 1993, I had no inkling of the impact it would have on my life. As I wandered around the city in the first few months, I was surprised and moved by the large number of plaques and monuments in remembrance of those who were killed during World War II, with lists of names that went on and on, and sometimes even fresh flowers laid nearby. Outside a school in Le Marais (the Jewish quarter of Paris) there is a simple plaque, telling of the 260 pupils who were arrested during World War II. Not one of them survived.
It shocked me deeply and made me want to learn more about this dark time in our history. I began to ask anyone I met over the age of sixty what it was like to have lived through the occupation, and I began to read up on the subject.
One of the people I met was Dora Blaufoux, a wonderful, sprightly lady in her late eighties. Dora was only thirteen when she was deported to Auschwitz. When I wrote the chapters on Auschwitz, I used some of her memories, as well as personal accounts I took from books. I must admit, I felt like something of an impostor when I wrote these chapters. I don’t know, and I can barely imagine the horror of Auschwitz. But that isn’t what this story is about.
Writing this book has been an exciting, eventful journey, and along the way I have met many interesting, sometimes crazy, often wonderful people. Writing is essentially a solitary occupation, but I have found invaluable support in various writing groups here in Paris. One such group has been especially important to me—Scriptorium, founded by Hazel Manuel. Her positive criticism, gentle guidance, and enthusiasm kept me going when I doubted myself. Different writers have passed through and still attend this group, and my gratitude goes to you all, in particular Rachel, Carol, Nancy, Kass, Cris, Shelley, Connie, Anne, Melissa, and Deborah.
A special thanks goes to my friends Marilyn Smith, Ian Hobbs, and Hazel for being with me in La Loire, Les Alpes, and India, for sitting in the heat and the cold, listening to my chapters. Thanks for the laughs too! And then I would like to thank my friend Lucy for letting me do the rewrites in her beach shack, and Christian for checking my French.
When researching this book, I was lucky enough to have some guidance from Stefan Martens, Vice-Director of the German Historical Institute in Paris. His knowledge and dedication to the subject of World War II provided me with a wealth of information, and I would like to thank him for the time he spent helping me work through some of the finer details.
Finally, my deep gratitude goes to Abbie Greaves at Curtis Brown for making all this possible when she picked out my manuscript from the many she must have received. And then to my wonderful agent, Sheila Crowley, for believing in it and understanding what I was trying to do, and for helping me get there. I would also like to thank the lovely team at Headline for making it all such a wonderful experience: Nathaniel Alcaraz-Stapleton, Rebecca Folland, and Hannah Geranio in the translation and foreign rights department; copyeditor Jane Selley, for her attention to detail; and my editor Sherise Hobbs, who helped me add those vital, final touches. My thanks also go to Karen Kosztolnyik, editor-in-chief at Grand Central Publishing in the USA, for working so hard on getting it all just right.
My parents brought me up to believe anything was possible; all I had to do was put my mind to it, and for this I am eternally grateful.
If you are interested in this time in history, I have included a list of some of the books I read while doing my research:
Berr, Hélène, Journal 1942–1944 (2008, Tallandier)
Haffner, Sebastian, Defying Hitler—A Memoir (2002, Weidenfeld and Nicolson)
Humbert, Agnès, Résistance—Memoirs of Occupied France (2008, Bloomsbury)
Moorehead, Caroline, A Train in Winter (2011, Chatto and Windus)
Ousby, Ian, Occupation—The Ordeal of France (1999, Pimlico)
Sebba, Anne, Les Parisiennes (2017, Weidenfeld and Nicolson)
Vinen, Richard, The Unfree French—Life under the Occupation (2007, Penguin)
Wiesel, Elie, Night (1958, Les Éditions de Minuit)