I've now finished reading Musik Hinter Stacheldraht (Music Behind Barbed Wire), a diary of life in British internment camps during 1940 by the Austrian composer Hans Gál. As I pointed out in an earlier posting, the book is extremely vivid and readable, and I found that my interest was sustained unbroken to the end. The diary was not intended for publication, and some of the notes have an almost unbearably poignant and personal character. While in the camp on the Isle of Man,Gál suffered a particularly malignant attack of eczema, which left him temporarily blind and disabled, and scarred his face. Yet somehow in spite of this he was able to work on the composition of music for the camp revue, preparations for which are described in terms that sometimes recall the "show" episodes in Dostoyevsky's The House Of The Dead. The book is illustrated with graphics by Paul Humpoletz, who also shared the experience of internment - perhaps one of the most memorable of these is the "barbed wire harp", symbolizing music in wartime in an image of captivity and liberation that also reflects the absurd quality of the whole misguided internment policy. The book ends after the release of the internees, on the steamer back to Liverpool:
The island has long ago vanished over the horizon. "What a Life"! Draw a thick line underneath it, now it's all over.
The ship rolls steadily, up and down. On it stands Karg-Bebenburg with his slim, young wife, his arm around her. He is happy.
What will Hänschen say when she sees my face?
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