![]() It was January, nineteen forty-five. Almost all of Europe had been liberated and was once more rejoicing, eating, drinking, making love, and beginning to forget the War. Any warmth or coziness we feel from the scene is subverted by our growing knowledge of the true state of these homes. The book starts out softly, almost with a comforting air of nostalgia, by describing a row of four houses, all with homey names. Twelve-year-old Anton Steenwijk has grown up on this street, getting to know the neighbors, some of whom are more friendly than others. It obviously hard living, but in this prologue we feel there is friendship. However, the year is 1945. ![]() Sadly, when I returned from the book store, I found out that Mulisch had died that day and will never be a Nobel laureate. I still haven’t read any Vargas Llosa (have a few in hand, though), but I can certainly see why Mulisch would be a strong candidate based on this book alone, and it is not even considered his masterpiece. ![]() I hadn’t read either and, a few days later, hoping to get a jump on next year’s Nobel winner, I went and bought Harry Mulisch’s The Assault. Orthofor at The Complete Review’s Literary Saloon said that, while he can see a strong case for Vargas Llosa, he thought Amos Oz or Harry Mulisch were the more deserving. When Mario Vargas Llosa won the Nobel Prize earlier this year, M.A. ![]() Translated from the Dutch by Claire Nicolas White (1985) Pantheon (1986) 285 pp The Assault by Harry Mulisch ( De Aanslag, 1982) ![]()
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