In as much as I originally hail from Cleveland, I was aware of the adventure of John Demjanjuk as a war-crimes defendant early on, and felt a certain level of hostility at the time. Don't get me wrong, if Demjanjuk could reasonably be proven to be Ivan "Grozny" I would have had no sympathy for him, but the quality of evidence, and the theatrical nature of the Israeli trial, made me dubious that anything worthwhile could come out of this endeavor. However, times change, as well as how one processes history, and that is the story that Douglas has to tell, of how we can now have an understanding of Demjanjuk, not as the victim he chose to portray himself as, but as a SS mercenary who would appear to have found this service tolerable enough not to choose other viable options (labor service or desertion), once it became obvious that his duty station (Sobibor) was a death camp. If I mark down this book for anything it's that the author's writing style can seem a little prolix at time, and there are some really dumb typos in this book, such rendering Brookpark (OH) as "Bookpart" and Fiume in Croatia as "Flume." ( )

4.0 for my own personal enjoyment, but 5.0 for the writing itself. I can't imagine trying to write about this topic and make it interesting, easy to understand, and clear. What an achievement.

This book was not what I expected it to be. I thought it would be a fairly straightforward true crime kind of book, only with the uncomfortable twist of that true crime being part of the largest act of genocide the world has ever known. That’s not what it is.

This is a book, actually, about legal history. Which I know sounds dreadfully dull, but in Douglas’s hands, it isn’t. He has crafted an in-depth look at the history of German (and US and Israeli) legal attempts to deal with the crimes of the Shoah through the lens of one particular trial (well, three or four trials? At this point I’m not sure I even know how many there were, but they were all ultimately about the actions of one person). I’m glad I didn’t know that it was a legal history, because I wouldn’t have given it a chance, and I’m so glad I did. The topic of how a country deals with justice in a case of state-sponsored crimes against humanity turns out to be a fascinating one.

Douglas is very critical about the failures of the German legal system in prosecuting Nazis, but he also makes painstaking attempts to understand how the jurists made the decisions that they did, and when they make the right decisions—as in the Demjanjuk case—he gives them credit. I found this a deeply humane book, not at all dry, and though Douglas has clearly done impeccable research, it never feels like he’s lost sight of the people at the heart of everything. He manages to balance explaining all the legal background and jargon you need to understand without insulting your intelligence. And I actually deeply appreciate that Djamanjuk the man gets so little attention. It felt right for this unrepentant cog in the machine not to get more attention.

I think this is probably one of the hardest kinds of books to write and one that gets the least amount of praise. Even if you think legal history isn’t your thing, give it a try. I think you’ll find yourself really interested. ( )