#A Woman in Berlin

[movie--posters]

#a woman in berlin #nina hoss #movie poster #movie posters #film #films #wwii #roman gribkov #irm hermann #august diehl #poster

[shesey]

Excerpts from A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous

Heart, hurt, love, desire: how foreign, how distant these words sound now. Evidently a sophisticated, discriminating love-life requires three square meals a day. My sole concern as I write these lines is my stomach. All thinking and feeling, all wishes and hopes begin with food. Apart from the bravery and resilience she demonstrated, her account reveals the close relationship between an enquiring mind and intellectual honesty. ... yet many still suffer from that powerful human desire for hope in the face of all logic. But seen up close, history is vexing - nothing but burdens and fears. Her reason for writing all this is quite simple. ‘It does me good, takes me mind off things’. Rape in war is a collective experience, she also observes, as opposed to in peacetime when it is individual. Each woman helps the other, by speaking about it, airing her woes. But, as she soon found out the male half of the German population wanted the subject to be buried. ‘These days I keep noticing how my feelings towards men are changing,’ she writes as Hitler’s regime collapses. ‘We feel sorry for them; they seem so miserable and powerless. The weaker sex. Deep down we women are experiencing a kind of collective disappointment. The Nazi world - ruled by men, glorifying the strong man - is beginning to crumble, and with it the myth of ‘Man.’ That has transformed us, emboldened us. Among the many defeats at the end of this war is the defeat of the male sex.’ Women were forbidden to mention the subject of rape as if it somehow dishonoured their men who were supposed to have defended them. People ask why, tormenting themselves with pointless questions. But I just want to focus on today, the task at hand. Since I own nothing, I can lay claim to everything. Once again we see what a dubious blessing technology really is. Machines with no intrinsic value, worthless if you can’t plug them in somewhere. Bread, however, is absolute. Coal is absolute. And gold is gold whether you’re in Rome, Peru, or Breslau. But radios, gas stoves, central heating, hot plates, all these gifts of the modern age - they’re nothing but dead weight if the power goes out. As long as there’s no clock in sight my life is timeless. What flowers, what lovely flowers. The tears were running down her face. I felt terrible as well. Beauty hurts now. We’re so full of death. I’ve had so many narrow escapes; I feel I lead a charmed life. That’s probably the way most people feel. How else could they be in such high spirits, surrounded by so much death? What’s clear is that every threat to your life boosts your vitality. My own flame is stronger, I’m burning more fiercely than before the air raids. Each new day of life is a day of triumph. You’ve survived once again. You’re defiant. On one hand you stand taller, but at the same time your feet are planted more firmly on the ground. I want to give myself over to this communal sense of humanity; I want to be part of it, to experience it. There’s a split between my aloofness, the desire to keep my private life to myself, and the urge to be like everyone else, to belong to the nation, to abide and suffer history together. Technology has devalued the impact of our own speech and writing. We women find it senseless to begin with; that’s just the way we are - reasonable, practical, opportunistic. We prefer our men alive. Why are we so appalled at the thought of children being murdered? In three or four years the same children strike us as perfectly fit for shooting and maiming. Where do you draw the line? When their voices break? Because that’s what really gets me the most, thinking about these little boys: their voices, so high, so bright. Up to now being a soldier meant being a man. And being a man means being able to father a child. Wasting these boys before they reach maturity obviously runs against some fundamental law of nature, against our instinct, against every drive to preserve the species. Like certain fish or insects that eat their own offspring. People aren’t supposed to do that. The fact that this is exactly what we are doing is a sure sign of madness. Here, too, I have to relearn everything I’ve been taught about women in war. Once our role was to play the ministering angel. Scraping up lint for bandages. A cool hand on a man’s hot brow. At a healthy distance from the shooting. Now there’s no difference between a regular hospital and a field hospital. The front is everywhere. But there comes a time when you’re so mortally tired you stop being afraid. The fact that our German word for praying - beten - is so close to our word for begging - betteln -- obviously means something. After all, there was a time when beggars were as much a fixture at the church door as the handle. We’re happy whenever we can flee into the present to escape worrying about the future. And for these women the task at hand is sausage, and the thought of sausage alters their perspective on things that may be much more important by are nevertheless much further away. In the heat of battle, in the thick of the action, you don’t think - you don’t even feel afraid, because you’re so distracted and absorbed. What does it mean - rape? When I said the word for the first time aloud, Friday evening in the basement, it sent shivers down my spine. Now I can think it and write it with an untrembling hand, say it out loud to get used to hearing it said. It sounds like the absolute worst, the end of everything - but it’s not. I’ve never been so removed from myself, so alienated. All my feelings seem dead, except for the drive to live. They shall not destroy me. But I have the feeling that, deep inside, all these simple, undiscriminating men feel insecure in front of me, despite their blustering. They’re children of the people. The conversation did me good, and not so much because of the subject, which I’m not as well versed in as Andrei, but simply because one of them treated me as an equal, without once touching me, not even with his eyes. He didn’t see me as a mere piece of female flesh, like all the others up to now. I couldn’t help thinking about how good I’d had it, until now - the fact that love had always been a pleasure and never a pain. I had never been forced, nor had I ever had to force myself. Everything had been good the way it was. But what’s making me so miserable right now is not so much the excess itself, extreme though it is; it’s the fact that my body has been mistreated, taken against its will and pain is how it responds to the abuse. I’m reminded of a girlfriend from school, now married, who confessed to me at the beginning of the war that in a certain way she felt physically better without her husband. It can’t be otherwise, nor should it be; as long as I’m nothing more than a spoil of war I intend to stay dead and numb, without feeling. But these days I think children are right to be afraid of sexual things - there really are a lot of sharp knives. But I know that even the most seemingly gentle Russian can turn into a savage beast if you rub him the wrong way or offend his self-esteem. But why are these youngsters so eager in their pursuit of anything female?... They probably want to prove themselves in front of their older comrades, like 16 year old Vanya, the stairwell rapist, to show that they’re real men, too. So I am placing myself at his service of my own accord. Am I doing it because I like him, or out of a need for love? God forbid! For the moment I’ve had it up to here with men and their male desire. I can’t imagine ever longing for any of that again. The less he wants from me as a man, the more I like him as a person. What is that supposed to mean anyway - a bad person?

My schooling makes me desirable in his eyes. That’s a far cry from our German men, for whom being well read does little to enhance a woman’s appeal, at least in my experience. In fact, my instinct has always been to play down my intelligence for them, to make a pretence of ignorance - or at least to keep quiet until I know them better. A German man always wants to be smarter, always wants to be in a position to each his little woman. I’m not afraid. I’ll just sail blindly ahead, trusting my little ship to the currents of the times; up to now it’s always managed to carry me to green shores. It felt very strange, once again being around men you don’t have the slightest reason to fear, men you don’t have to constantly gauge or be on guard against or keep an eye on. I’m convinced that this particular woman will never forget her husband’s fit of courage, or perhaps you could say it was love. And you can hear the respect in the way the men tell the story, too. Girls, you better go and change the world. It needs it! We liked that. Because we didn’t think much of the world in 1930 either. In fact, we emphatically rejected it. Everything was so muddles, so full of barriers and obstacles. And this mass rape is something we are overcoming collectively as well. All the women help the other, by speaking about it, airing their pain and allowing others to air theirs and spit out what they’ve suffered. Which, of course, doesn’t mean that creatures more delicate than this cheeky Berlin girl won’t fall apart or suffer for the rest of their lives. If at least we had a little decent soap! I have this constant craving to give my skin a thorough scrub - I’m convinced it would make me feel a little cleaner in my soul as well. But no matter what the case, I think it’s up to each of us, even under these circumstances, to make our lives as meaningful as we can. No matter where we end up, we take ourselves. At times I think I could survive anything on earth, as long as it came from without and not from some devious trick of my own heart. Once I spent several days on a Soviet train, rocking across the countryside, and heard a Russian tell me. Our German comrades won’t storm a train station unless they’ve bought valid platform tickets first. Less sarcastically put, most Germans are horrified by unbridled lawlessness. Maybe that’s a mistake. If pictures like that were available, the men could fill their fantasies with all those idealized figures, and wouldn’t wind up throwing themselves on every woman in sight, no matter how old or ugly. I’ll have to give this some more thought. The major was embarrassed and looked away. In that second I liked him very much. We’ve surrendered. Nevertheless I do feel a new desire for life. Poor words, you do not suffice. The other one, delicate Brigitte, is nineteen and defends herself psychologically with an angry cynicism. These girls have been forever deprived of love’s first fruits. Whoever begins with the last phase, and in such a wicked way, can no longer quiver with excitement at the very first touch. What’s clear is that I was there, that I breathed what was in the air, and it affected all of us even if we didn’t want it to. Now that’s something that only men could cook up for other men. If they just thought about it for two minutes they’d realize that liquor greatly intensifies the sexual urge. I don’t know what in the world I should do. No one really needs me. All I can do is touch my small circle and be a good friend. What’s left is just to wait for the end. Still, the dark and amazing adventure of life beckons. I’ll stick around, out of curiosity, and because I enjoy breathing and stretching my healthy limbs. Once again I have to reflect on the consequence of being alone in the midst of adversity. In some way it’s easier, not having to endure the torment of someone else’s suffering. What must a mother feel seeing her girl devastated? Probably the same as anyone who truly loves another but either cannot help them or doesn’t dare to. The men who’ve been married for many years seem to hold up best. They don’t look back. Sooner or later their wive will call them to account though.  I’m still ecstatic at being able to sleep by myself between clean sheets. A bath at home, a nice dress, a quiet evening did some good. I have to think about things. Our spiritual need is great. Authority as a means of applying pressure. And here I was, using a little piece of paper to pretend I had authority. The trick produced prompt results, too. I’m convinced that otherwise I would have never got the radio back. Still, it left me feeling grubby. However it appears that most of life’s mechanisms rely on little tricks like that - marriages, companies, nation-states, armies. All I want to do is steer my little ship through the shoals as best I can. And maybe my heart will speak to me once more. One thing’s for sure: my life has certainly been full -- all too full! But the simply fact that I’m surrounded by other hungry people keeps me going. Even writing this down takes effort, but at least it’s some consolation in my loneliness, a kind of conversation, a chance to pour my heart out. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not suffering more because of the rift with Gerd, who used to mean everything to me. I only know I want to survive - against all sense and reason, just like an animal.

#a woman in berlin #feminist books #feminist quotes

[heartoppression]

I think I'm far from any life-threatening extreme, but I don't know how far. I only know that I want to survive— against all sense and reason, just like an animal.

Anonymous, A Woman in Berlin

#082022 #A Woman in Berlin #lit

[brt-corner]

#a woman in berlin #film stills

[femalecharactersinmedia]

A Woman in Berlin Anonymous

Between April 20th and June 22nd of 1945, the anonymous author of A Woman in Berlin wrote about life within the falling city as it was sacked by the Russian Army. Fending off the boredom and deprivation of hiding, the author records her experiences, observations and meditations in this stark and vivid diary. Accounts of the bombing, the rapes, the rationing of food and the overwhelming terror of death are rendered in the dispassionate, though determinedly optimistic prose of a woman fighting for survival amidst the horror and inhumanity of war.

Published 1954

Read it with Amazon Read it with Barnes & Noble Read it with Apple Books

#book #adult literature #a woman in berlin #anonymous #biography #unnamed #1954 #white heroine #heterosexual heroine #31 to 40 #homophobia #death #gore #rape #violence #sexism #antisemitism

[femmepathy]

Voo Doo, a German trans woman cabaret owner and performer with her beloved boa. (Date unclear: likely 1912-1928.) [source]

#voo doo #Magnus Hirschfeld #trans woman #weimar berlin #cabaret #trans history #snake #boa #pride #mine

[yellowmanula]

some sort of Techno, from 90s classics to modern one

#techno #underground techno #berlin techno #techno music #technomusic #minimal techno #electronic music #electronic #female DJ #kitkat #berlin #yellow manula #female dj #girl DJ #woman DJ #DJane #DJette #deejay #dj #djs #dj mix #dj set #mixes #techno mix #polish dj #SoundCloud

[africanrefugeeswelcome]

A German woman dedicated to the black cause

#germany #berlin #german woman #german girl #blond girl #refugees welcome #blacklivesmatter #africanrefugees #africanrefugeeswelcome #african immigrants welcome #end sars #protest

[yourdailyqueer]

The Girlfriend Experience / Berlin Le Bon / Berlin Stiller

Gender: Transgender woman

Sexuality: Queer

DOB: Born 1991

Ethnicity: White - German

Occupation: Drag artist, activist, reality star

#The Girlfriend Experience #Berlin Le Bon #Berlin Stiller #lgbt #lgbt rights #queerness #trans femme #lgbtq #transfemme #transgender #trans woman #queer #1991 #white #german #drag artist #activist #reality star

[catlliecal]

I think what’s interesting to me about Yor is that Yor Briar/Forger isn’t just a front to hide Thorn Princess, that Thorn Princess alone isn’t her “true self,” nor is Yor Briar/Forger alone her “true self.” They both make up her. She’s compassionate. She may be a bit aloof, but she’s also very intelligent and knows the best place to attack someone to kill them as quickly as possible. I think that makes her a very wonderful character.

#spy x family #sxf #yor briar #yor forger #thorn princess #sxf yor #spy x family yor #cal rambles #her doubts over not having traditionally feminine/motherly skills makes sense given the (likely) time period #we seem to be in a fictional Berlin during a high tension point of the Cold War #I’d imagine many traditional skills are taught and valued because they are the norm for a woman #especially the higher up the social ladder you are #yor spent most of her childhood learning to kill to support her brother #she didn’t have time to also learn those things because they didn’t help her assassin work #she may take things at face value and can be a bit gullible at timed but I relate that back to her upbringing #when you’re mostly killing you don’t need too many of those kinds of social skills #and if you want to read it this way she could be undiagnosed autistic #wait that might actually be really cool #anywho #i just think she's neat

[weimar-arts]

Gabriele Münter, Dame im Sessel, schreibend (Stenographie. Schweizerin in Pyjama), 1929

#Gabriele Münter #neue sachlichkeit #Weimar Republic #new objectivity #magic realism #Babylon Berlin #1920s art #1920s germany #1920s painting #1920s fashion #Neue Frau #flapper #1929 #woman artist #modern art #realism #red shoes

[slavicafire]

oh finally. the only time I am interested in romance is if it takes at least 4 seasons for them to get down to it

#babylon berlin posting #beloved. my feeble little creature of a man and the most resilient charming woman ever. what a pair. what a pair #now a countdown to a tragedy that will unavoidably befall them <3

[heartoppression]

When it comes to heating, other people's furniture burns better than your own.

Anonymous, A Woman in Berlin

#082022 #A Woman in Berlin #lit

[federer7]

Woman Jumping Puddle, Berlin, 1925

Photo: Friedrich Seidenstücker

#berlin #1925 #puddle #woman #Friedrich Seidenstücker #friedrich seidenstucker

[huariqueje]

Breakfast   -   Meta Isæus-Berlin, 2008.

Swedish ,  b. 1963 -  

Oil on linen canvas , 115 x 132 cm.

#Meta Isæus-Berlin #swedish artist #breakfast #woman reading #reading art

[nami1990]

Hey meine Süßen. Wie war den euer Start ins Wochenende? Wir waren in einer Bar von einem Freund in Berlin. War sehr schön entspannend und gemütlich. Ich wünsche euch einen wunderschönen Samstag. 🌹🐺🌹

#ai generated #ai girl #ai image #ai art #ai artwork #ai art gallery #ai art generation #ai babe #cute #woman #berlin #lokal #feiern #entspannung #entspannen