The Berlin Zookeeper
Anna Stuart has not penned a straightforward narrative of love and discovery during wartime; rather, she has crafted a complex, layered and multi-decade tale anchored in the world-famous Berlin Zoo. Heavily damaged during the latter years of World War II, the stressed keepers attempted to keep the animals safe during the slow, deliberate destruction of their city via constant, intense aerial bombing. This is often a distressing task as more and more animals, as well as family, friends, and colleagues, succumb to war and disease.
In contemporary times, a stained, crumpled scrap of yellow paper with seven scrawled names in her late mother’s hand vaults Bethan into an intense and sometimes confrontational past shrouded in mystery. The question of “What’s so secret about it?” initiates her quest to decipher the names and, more personally important, their relationship to her mother.
Describing situations via extensive and intense dialogue, Stuart vividly illustrates the horror of the times, perhaps ghoulishly illustrated by the comment following the death of a close friend: “Why did He snatch Sasha… because… Hitler would have made a crap angel!” Further, the understandable but unfortunate practice of “gifting” newborns of deceased mothers explicates both the depths and heights of civilians mired in war.
What role might the confused elderly lady who visits the same bench every day at the Zoo play in Bethan’s journey? Is she the connection between past and present? The chronicle is complex as the characters engage their love of animals with their own vulnerability. Realistically, there is a denouement, but some key personality strands are left untied, so readers have their own opportunity to ponder and reflect.
