To mark Remembrance Day, I’ve just finished re-reading and being put through the wringer by All quiet on the Western Front.
It’s hard to do justice to it in words- Remarque’s brevity, brutal honesty and black humour make the novel hard to read but even harder to put aside. I’m quite simply overwhelmed all over again by how monstrous the first world war was.
Remarque’s own words say it best I think:
“This book is intended neither as an accusation nor as a confession, but simply as an attempt to give an account of a generation that was destroyed by the war- even those of it who survived the shelling.”